Page 16 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

The door to my apartment bursts open. At least I think it does. I could be dreaming. Until a big ass body fills the doorway and I’ve done it now. I’m in for a real treat.

Jensen takes one look at me and screws up his face.Damn, he’s pissed.Rightfully so. My phone has been going off like crazy but my arms and legs are so Jello-like at this point, I don’t know if they work.

“Riggs, what the fuck are you doing? Drinking? You never drink.” The closer he gets, the wider his body grows and slowly, a second version of him appears. Snark bubbles up inside of me and I let out a sound that sounds something like a laugh and ends with a snort.

“It’s how I choose to spiral today,” I slur like the dick I am. Jensen doesn’t deserve for me to act like this. He’s concerned about me. As always. When I wish he would let me drown myself in peace.

Anger morphs his face and a fraction of my playful, sarcastic facade slips. When will I stop being a disappointment? Will I ever? “To spiraltoday?News flash, brother, you’ve been spiraling for a long time. This is absurd.”

“Then leave already, I didn’t ask you to come here,” I bite back and he flinches. Fuckingflinchesas if I’ve slapped him.

“You’re right, you didn’t. I thought Charley is supposed to be here?” Somehow, I feel like he already knows what happened with Charley. She tells Foxy everything and, in turn, Jensen is privy to both sides of each one of my disappointments.

“She was. I fucked her and sent her home.”

“You didwhat?” He spins on me and this time, the disgust is crystal clear. His gray eyes are extra stormy, almost emo, like those kids that wear all the makeup and have funky hair. They look awesome, man.

“She wouldn’t leave and I tried to get her out of my system, man, I did. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking come.” Blame it on drunk me that I told my best friend about my dysfunction, as if he needs to know.TMI much?“She didn’t leave like I told her to and when I got out of the shower, she was standing in the living room, practically panting over me. So I gave her what she wanted.”

“You’re fucking crazy. And an asshole. That’s not what she wants.” I watch as Jensen pulses his fists—a telltale sign that he’s pissed. If I weren’t so drunk, it’d piss me off. Right now, however, it doesn’t bother me. “She wants you, Riggs. You!”

“That’s all I can give. Dick with no strings.” I shrug noncommittally.

“Jesus Christ, you’re impossible.”

“Yep.” I pop the P with my wet lips and take another swig. J rips the alcohol from my hands and before I can whine about it, Jensen’s hand twists in my shirt. He yanks me to my feet and the world spins around me. I let out a yell, my mind flashing back as I wait for the punch to come. Embarrassment colors my cheeks and I curl in on myself, ashamed of my reaction.

“Fuck!” Jensen roars and drops me immediately. “Fuck, bro, I’m so sorry. I—I shouldn’t have done that.” After giving myself a few seconds and a couple of calming breaths to give the adrenaline in my system a chance to stop firing, my eyes open. My best friend’s jaw is jumping and his lips pasted into a thin, angry slash across his face. His eyes are hard as he glares at me, but a tiny shred of sympathy lives there.

I wonder how far I can push him. When is his breaking point before he leaves? I want him to leave.

Is this my breaking point? My lowest moment where I’ve hit rock bottom and can only go up from here? Because I’ve tried to kill myself before. I would’ve thought that was my low, that I could only go up from then, but here I am again. This moment is worse than that one, by far. At that point, I was a young kid with nothing to lose. Now I have this beautiful girl on my mind all the time, one that I can’t live with and can’t live without. Then there’s Jensen standing before me. What will it do to him if I’m gone?

Fuck, this shit’s too deep. When am I going to learn? When am I going to give in and let them help me?

“Get your ass in the bathroom now or I’m going to carry you in there. Take a cold shower and wake yourself up.” His order is a deep, harsh demand that leaves nothing to the imagination. He isn’t asking me to go to the bathroom, he’s telling me and would carry me in there himself, but he doesn’t want to freak me out. I don’t move, because I’m stunned. Jensen’s love has always been tough, but there’s been a point that I can push him to. We are past that point.

Am I an addict, in a way? An addict of self loathing, the damsel that needs to be rescued by the people around him in order to remember that I am loved?

That’s an interesting concept I’d like to pick apart, but that last gulp I took is hitting me hard and I can’t wrap my brain around it right now.

“Shower, now,” J growls through gritted teeth, the sound low and menacing. I can tell he wants to manhandle me again, but he is restraining himself. I almost wish he would. The idea of alcohol making me feel again was a good one, but now that I’m drunk off my ass, it isn’t working. A few punches to the face would probably do the trick. Hell, he could finish off my ribs. That would certainly make me feel something.

Nothing would make me feel like Charley does, though.

“Yeah, okay.” He follows me into the bathroom and starts the water, setting the temperature to mild. I strip down to my boxers, ignoring the bruises screaming for my attention in the mirror. Thankfully, Jonas decided a couple hits to my jaw were all I needed and took the rest out on my body. My jaw is swollen, but the bruising on my face is minimal.

Jensen winces when he sees it and, if possible, his lips get even thinner. He clicks his fingers and motions me toward the shower. The water is chilly, but not too bad. Nothing I can’t handle and nothing I don’t need. I let it cascade over me for a few seconds before I dip my head under the spray and run my hands through my messy hair. The water brings a certain clarity, helps me breathe easier. It doesn’t right the swaying of the world yet, but I have hope we’ll get there.

“Hey sweetheart, are you okay? Is Foxy there with you?” J speaks and there is no way he is calling me sweetheart. My stomach clenches hard when I realize who he is talking to. I place my hand on the wall to steady myself, thankful that I won’t be able to catch her response.

“Yeah, she still is. We’ve all been dozing in and out.”Speakerphone. Damn him. I can’t handle hearing her right now.My heart lurches, raking against my chest. Or maybe that’s heartburn from the booze eating away the lining of my empty stomach. Her voice sounds so broken, so damaged.

I caused that.Imade her bleed like that. Touched her when I shouldn’t have. What the fuck was running through my mind that I had the right to do that?

“Take that shit off speaker. I can’t listen to that,” I tell him, trying to keep my breathing calm and even. To keep the nausea at bay. I rub my chest as if it will ease the ache there.

“Too bad, you’re fucking going to.”

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