C2 Chapter 02

Sasha

Once I was calm enough, I looked around the apartment. It was bigger than I expected; at least five times the size of our living room back in Glasgow. When I finally noticed the view, my breath caught in my throat. I was looking straight at the wild sea that stretched over the horizon. On my way here I was expecting the apartment to be more traditional with a lot of clutter and old-school furniture, but this was far from it. The walls were painted in magnolia. Hardwood floors. A kitchen with shiny black countertops and filled with modern appliances.

My anger was slowly replaced by never-ending joy. I was going to have the best time in my life here, away from my shitty room in London.

My mouth was hanging open as I walked around, hardly believing that Mum owned this place. She didn’t want to keep it, but I had to bring her here at least once and show her what she was missing. I walked onto the terrace and slid the door open. When I thought it couldn’t get any better, it truly did. The terrace was almost of the size of the living room, stretching over the entire floor with the most stunning views of the sea and grounds. Shaking with excitement, I walked up the balustrade and looked around. It was summer and the sun was blazing hot. Joey had sunbeds and I was already imagining myself lying here sipping a cocktail. I was just about to walk away to check the bedroom when I heard someone’s screams. The noises were coming from the other side of the apartment.

“Yeah, babe! You like it hard, don’t you?”

I knew that voice. My Scottish neighbour from earlier on. The arrogant prick was banging that girl. Of course, my apartment was next to his and I could hear him quite clearly. For a split second I had an urge to run next door and pound on his door to tell him to keep it down, but somehow I restrained myself. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Tomorrow morning I was planning to file a formal complaint about his behaviour with the management.

I strolled back inside and checked out the two bedrooms. The master bedroom had a walk-in closet and it looked like I was able to get to the terrace from any room. This was awesome.

In the living room there were several framed photographs. I didn’t recognise anyone in them, but I assumed that the older guy in most of the pictures was Joey Mitchell. He died of a heart attack three months ago. All his personal effects were still here in the apartment. My first job would be to pack everything, sell it, or give it away to charity. The furniture was modern and in excellent condition, so I could make a deal with whoever was going to buy this place.

It looked like uncle Joey had liked travelling. He was sixty-six when he died. He reminded me a bit of my grandfather: short and stocky with that big nose. Tears welled in my eyes as the memories from nine months ago clouded my mind.

I shook my head; it was time to forget about the past and start over. My first shift at the hospital was starting in a couple of hours. The agency was happy with giving me two or three shifts a week. I liked having my own money, and for now I didn’t have any bills. The solicitor told me that Joey had been very good with his finances. He’d paid all the utilities and everything off for the next year, so I was lucky.

I went back to the hallway and picked up the boxes with my belongings. Most of my suitcases were in Glasgow. I took what I could from my room in London and shoved it into boxes. That hot Scot from the opposite apartment had my favourite thong. God, I hated him.

I chose the bigger bedroom for my room. I was planning to empty the cupboards tomorrow. I had a twelve-hour shift ahead of me tonight, so I needed to relax before the clock struck seven.

Dexter

Penny knew that I wasn’t myself when I was fucking her. She came a few times, screamed that my cock felt amazing, but I was already slipping back into the oblivious mood after we were done. My head had been racing since my encounter with Barbie outside, and that wasn’t good.

“Make sure you close the door behind you,” I said afterward as we were lying on the bed panting. I took the condom off and threw it into the trash. Leaning on her elbows, she looked at me like I was talking in fucking Chinese.

“What? Do you want me to go? I thought I was staying for the night.”

“I hate repeating myself. You aren’t staying. I’ve got shit to do,” I barked, staring at the ceiling. I heard someone next door, opening and closing the drawers. Fuck, it’d been months since Joey passed away. It was unnerving to hear someone on the other side of the wall once again. I couldn’t quite believe that he wasn’t around anymore. His death only added more confusion to my life.

I felt Penny’s hands on my chest. She was moving them down to my dick, slowly teasing me, when I wanted her to leave. I was growing hard again thinking about this Barbie next door. It was time to call Ronny to find out who she was and what the hell she was doing in Joey’s apartment.

I caught Penny’s hand when she was just about to grab my balls. Her dark hair was loose and streaming down to her bare tits. I hated myself right now, the pressure mounting in my shoulders. Fuck, I didn’t need to feel like shit right now.

“I’m going to count to five and I want you out of here,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her, but she giggled as she caressed my ball sack, obviously not taking me seriously.

“Dex, don’t be so mean. I want to suck you off,” she muttered.

“One.”

“Oh, come on, we’re having fun. I always stay for the night. It’s our routine.”

“Two.”

She was annoyed now and I felt the rage pushing through me faster than ever. I struggled to push away this heavy shitty mood that was embracing me.

“Three.”

“Dex, I’m still horny.”

“Four,” I counted.

“Lick me, Dex.”

“Five!” I roared and jumped out of bed, not thinking straight at all. I put my boxers back on, grabbed Penny and started dragging her across my apartment, not caring for the world if I was hurting her or not. She was still naked, but at that point I didn’t fucking care. I was slowly losing my shit. She was screaming, calling me all sorts of names. I threw her outside into the empty corridor and shut the door behind me. I started picking up some of her clothes, my pulse racing away. I needed to get high fast; otherwise someone was going to either die or get hurt. I opened the door and threw the clothes at her.

“Dex, you’re horrible. I don’t even have a ride,” Penny screamed and started putting her dress back on. Yeah, I wouldn’t think that she wanted to parade naked around the complex. The next door opened up and Barbie peered out, looking at me and then at Penny. I had to pretend that I didn’t care that she stood there watching the scene unfold.

“Penny, I made you come five times today. Stop whining. I’ll see you in a week.”

“Fuck you.”

“I already did.” I chuckled and pinned my eyes on Barbie, who was still standing there, looking concerned, probably for Penny’s sake. I narrowed my eyes and then slammed the door behind me, grabbing my head and tangling my hair. She wasn’t Joey; she was some fucking ordinary girl that I didn’t need to know about.

For about a minute I couldn’t gather my thoughts. My head felt like it was just about to blow up. I knew what was coming and I had to simmer down, before I did something I would regret later. Calling Jack wasn’t an option. He had shit of his own that he had to deal with.

Then I heard Penny shouting.

“And I won’t be coming back ever again, you self-centred asshole!”

She was going to be back; she loved my dick.

I reached the kitchen counter and started shaking out the pills I needed to take. Some of them were good. My supplier knew how to get certain things that helped with whatever was going on inside me. Today I was angry, livid, and my pulse was racing like a car on the motorway. Yesterday I felt great. I finished up tons of projects and went shopping. Despite that, I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. My mood swung whichever way the wind blew.

I swallowed a few pills and went back to the sofa. I picked up the rest of the weed that I had and started making a rollie. The dark waters were suffocating, covering me, and I couldn’t breathe. My anger was mounting and I had to calm the fuck down.

I lay back and lit my joint, thinking about my poor Pap. I hadn’t visited his grave in a while. My stomach revolted, so I took a few deep puffs. Pills, weed and sex… all this stuff helped, but it was never enough. Mum was worried about me, all these late phone calls. She didn’t know that she was the one that killed Dad. He had no choice and hung himself. His love for her killed him, but he was a weak man.

I wasn’t like him. Or at least I slept around, fucked whoever I could, and never got involved emotionally. Love was for losers.

The pressure in my head eased off as the meds started to kick in. I was numb again for a while, not feeling trapped anymore. It was going to be a long evening. Joey used to come over to keep me company when I didn’t have a woman in here. He was a good man, always listening to my meaningless problems. He had no idea that he helped. Doctors couldn’t help me; no one could. Every day I needed a different distraction in order to keep going.

After my father killed himself, I graduated and got a business degree, got angry, smashed a few jaws, drank way too much, and finally after a few nights in jail I decided to sort myself out. I invested some money in properties. I started with small projects—flats, apartments—and then I moved to houses. Soon I had profits in my pocket. It took me eight years to get where I was now. I bought Grange complex for peanuts, spent shitloads of money and turned this wreck into luxury apartments. I had more debts than I could think of, but I had enough years ahead of me to pay them off.

Every year I tried to invest in something new. After Dad’s death I felt isolated, lost. He was the person that I was aspiring to be like—until he decided to hang himself.

Women were attracted to successful guys like me. All of a sudden I had plenty of money. I thought that a lot of dosh could make me happy, but life didn’t work like that. I still felt down all the time, so I fucked as many women as I could to deal with whatever the hell I was going through. I didn’t want to be a slave of fucking love, so I replaced women that didn’t understand what I was looking for as soon as I had a chance.

Finally after an hour, I felt numb enough not to feel like shit anymore. I put the joint in the ashtray and walked to the kitchen to get myself a whiskey. There was only half a bottle left, but that was enough to put me back to sleep, to get rid of the mounting grief that kept bothering me for days.