Page 48 of Inevitable Destruction

The wet flesh of his tongue flicks back and forth over my lips until I part them, and he thrusts it into my mouth. His flavor explodes on my tongue, spicy and tasting of stale cigarettes. It’s not a bad taste, but… it’s not right, either.

I hesitate, slowing the movement of my mouth as my wayward thoughts come screaming into the forefront of my mind.

This feels wrong, and I don’t know why. He’s a guy. My only real friend, actually, but I don’t think that’s it. I sucked a fucking dick for drugs; I don’t think I should feel bothered by a man’s tongue in my mouth.

My mind comes screeching to a halt. My lips lock up, along with my hands. Jay must sense my hesitation because he pulls away from me like my lips erupted into flames. He lowers his head until his eyes meet mine, heavy-lidded and glazed over.

His parted lips shine from our shared saliva, and his chest heaves with his deep breathing. I watch as his eyes flit back and forth across my face, trying to gain reasoning for me stopping, but whatever he sees must not be good because he drops his hand from the back of my head and takes a step back.

Jay holds up his hands in front of him before letting them fall back to his sides. “Fuck, dude. That was… that was wrong of me.” He scratches the back of his head then grips his nape before finally looking at me again. His cheeks glow a bright red, and he clears his throat.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” The only thing I can do is stare out at nothing in particular as he manhandles me into the car and leans across my chest to lock my seatbelt into place, forgoing giving me his sweatshirt altogether.

Something deeply corrupt sinks deep inside of my gut, twisting me up from the inside out to the point I have to wrap my arms around my midsection in an attempt to ease the pain infiltrating my body at my cataclysmic realization.

I may have been forced to suck Rhett Boyd’s dick for my pills, but I never in a million fucking years would have thought I would feel this way about it.

I sift through the thoughts flitting through my mind at the speed of a hurricane at catastrophic speeds, but the one thought that keeps coming to the surface through the chaos of my mind is one thing.

It’s so goddamn sadistic—those things he said to me made me feel worthless. And pathetic. Like I’m nothing but a fucking whore.

But the sickest part of all of it… I liked Rhett forcing me. He made me feel wanted.

He chose me to make him come. I don’t know why. I still don’t even know who he really is other than he’s a cop who seems oddly obsessed with me, but…

Rhett chose me to be this for him when no one else has ever chosen me. In return for doing whatever it is he wants from me, I apparently get whatever drugs he decides to throw my way.

I fucking hate that, but that’s another thing I have no control over. Rhett has already more than proved he can control my drug intake if Jay is any proof with his sudden refusal to sell me shit. He won’t even do lines with me at parties anymore, and that was always a go-to for us.

Rhett must have gotten to him, too—another person for him to control.

The biggest question I can’t quit thinking about… Am I going to willingly let him do this to me, or am I going to fight?

At this point, fighting seems redundant. He appears to know what he’s doing, and if it gets me what I need, then who am I to argue? If all he wants is to force me to make him come, then I can handle that.

It could be worse.

It could always be worse.

Jay’s throat clearing breaks the heavy tension in the small space of the jeep. I keep my eyes locked on the window at the landscape outside.

“We’re here, man.” His words have my eyes focusing, and I zero in on the front door of my apartment building. The heat blasting from the vents only does so much to keep me warm, but it’s better than the bitter air outside, which is why I find myself hesitating to open the door.

I just want to be numb again. These thoughts hurt too much.

“Look, Dom. I’m sorry. I— I don’t know what that was.” Jay stutters over his words, and I finally force my gaze over to him. I take in his fidgeting figure. The nervousness radiating off his body is so palpable.

“No worries,” I rasp out. It’s weak and pathetic, but it’s all I have in me, so it’ll have to be enough. Jay sighs and nods.

“Thanks. Um… Do you want me to help you inside?” I start shaking my head even before he’s finished talking.

“Nah, man.” I grab the black handle, but before I can push the door open, Jay’s arm darts out, and his hand lands on top of my thigh. My eyes fall to my leg where he’s touching me.

“Dom… Fuck, dude. I hate to ask you this after everything and the shit with that one pissed off looking dude, but I have to. Do you—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. He squeezes my leg almost absentmindedly before continuing.

“Do you have a drug problem? Do you need help?” he finally spits out.

A low, raspy cackle escapes my parched throat. I grab his hand on my thigh and crush his fingers together as I remove it from my leg. After I drop his hand, I push open the door and step out into the early morning drizzle, the manic, gravelly laugh still falling from my lips without any signs of stopping soon.

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