Hemy (Walk of Shame #2)


by Victoria Ashley

Prologue

Hemy

I feel a hand on my shoulder pushing and shaking me, causing me to groan and scratch my head. I’m so fucked up that I can barely even move. To be honest, this could just be my mind screwing with me again, so I choose to ignore it.

“Dude. Hemy. Get the hell up. Wake up, bro.”

I make an attempt to open my eyes, but all they do is end up rolling into the back of my head and closing. I’m in the middle of my drug-induced coma, fucked out of my mind. My eyes are so heavy that I don’t even bother trying to open them again. All I want to do is sleep, to not have to think. My mind is a fog, no clues as to where it’s been or what it’s done in the past twenty-four hours; my synthetic nirvana.

“It’s time for you to get out, man. Take Rachel and go. I got shit to do.” The voice echoes through my ears, not sticking to my mind for shit except for one word.

All it takes is Rachel’s name for my mind to register what the hell is going on and for me to sober up enough to move. I knew I shouldn’t have come here last night. All I wanted was a quick release from my hell for ten minutes. I didn’t expect to get as trashed as I did, but then again I never do until it’s too late.

Sitting straight up I open my eyes and shake my head, as if that’s going to take me out of the state I’m in. The room starts spinning around me, so I lean forward with my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut. I need to come down, but my mind is still off in the land of the thoroughly fucked up.

“Dude . . . I told you to take it easy last night, but you were unstoppable as usual.”

My brain finally starts to process and I open my eyes again to see my good friend, Mitch, standing above me with my shirt in his hands. He looks both pissed off and sorry for me at the same damn time.

He throws my shirt at my face and it ends up landing on my lap, which I just now realize is covered with Rachel’s face buried in the middle. Rachel groans and digs her face into my hard on, but doesn’t wake up.

Damn.

In one quick movement I push Rachel out of my lap and jump to my feet. “Ah, fuck.” I rub my hands over my face and step away from the bed. “What is this shit?”

Rachel opens her eyes and smiles seductively while reaching for my pant leg. I shake her hand off and push it away. “What’s wrong, baby? You seemed to be into me last night. Did I do something wrong?” She pokes her bottom lip out in a pout.

Pointing my finger in her face I take a deep breath and exhale, trying to keep my anger in check. “The fuck I was. You know damn well I don’t want shit to do with you.” I grab for my shirt and start backing away. “I’ll deal with your ass later. I told you this shit had to stop. I have to go.”

I rush through the house with Mitch trailing closely at my heels. As soon as I push my way outside, I stop and take a few deep breaths in an attempt to gather myself from the shit storm I just walked out of. My head is spinning even faster now, and I have no idea how I’m going to get my ass home in this condition. I can barely even stand up straight.

“I have some bad news, bro.” Mitch’s voice is soft and full of regret coming from beside me.

I don’t like the sound of this. I lean against the brick wall of the house and rub my hands over my face as fast as I can. “Just say it, man.”

Mitch leans against the wall beside me. He hesitates for a short moment, meaning he doesn’t want to say what it is he has to tell me. “Onyx came over looking for you this morning. I tried telling her that you weren’t here, but man, she isn’t stupid.”

I turn around and pound my fist into the brick wall as hard as I can, repetitively, angry with my damn self. The crackling of bone against the wall tells me how much pressure I’m exerting behind each swing. The drugs swarming through my bloodstream numbs my mind from the pain I would be experiencing otherwise. “What did she see,” I ask through gritted teeth. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Fuck, I could have explained everything.”

“I tried waking your ass up. You were too fucked up. She walked in the bedroom and saw you shirtless with Rachel laying across your lap. She just stood there motionless for a while before turning around and walking out. She seemed pretty calm, man. I don’t know. I tried explaining, but she just kept walking, mumbling something about eternal heartache.”

I let out a huff and glide my fingers through my sweaty hair. “How the hell did Rachel get in there with me? When I went to that room last night I was alone. I didn’t do shit with her. I never once touched her.” My jaw steels as I picture Rachel’s scheming hands on me. This isn’t the first time she has pulled this shit.

“I don’t know, dude. I just went in there this morning to make sure your ass was still breathing and there she was, half naked, and sleeping on your lap. I didn’t know what the hell happened, so I just left you two alone.” He throws his arms up to show me he doesn’t really want to get involved. “I’m sorry, man. I think your time with Onyx is up. Everyone has a breaking point, a moment when they throw in the towel and walk away. You’ve screwed things up way too many times. You need to get your shit together before you end up dead and alone.”

I stand here and let his words sink in as he pushes away from the wall and walks away, ending the conversation. I’m at a loss for words. I know I’m nothing but a big fuck up. I’ve always been worthless. Even my parents thought so.

Giving my body a few more minutes to wake up and get with the program, I just stand here with my eyes closed, gripping the wall in front of me. I can feel the blood starting to ooze out of the torn skin, running down my fingers, but only because of the wetness and not the pain. I’m still numb from the pain, I always am. It’s what I spend all of my time chasing, and the reason I’m in this situation. How the hell am I going to explain this shit to Onyx? She’ll probably be gone by the time I get there.

Dammit, I fucked up . . .

Thirty minutes later I pull up in front of my apartment and hop off my motorcycle. It took me that long to be able to somewhat function normally. Even from the street I can see a couple of her suitcases on the porch, telling me what a damn screw up I am.

I stand here watching Onyx as she throws another bag out onto the porch, not even bothering to look my direction. It’s really happening. She’s really leaving and I am too fucked up to even fight for her. I am barely holding the bile down that is rising in my throat. Even I think I’m a loser at the moment. How am I supposed to convince her otherwise?

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