Page 30 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

“ Y ou were right, this booze sucks donkey dicks.” Adam laughed before he took another swig of the rakija straight from the bottle.

The credits were still rolling on the second movie they watched, but he had broken into the Macedonian liquor well before that one started.

It made his face buzz with a pleasant warmth, but each mouthful of it was pretty awful.

It reminded him of those low percentage fruity vodkas that were popular amongst college co-eds, which seemed to leave worse hangovers than bottom-shelf paint thinner-esque whiskey.

But it was strong and even as the lidocaine lost its effect on his back, it numbed just enough of the pain that he was okay with it.

Vincent had offered to do another injection, but he didn’t want to spoil the mood.

It was a weird, slightly tense, ease that had settled between them with the occasional stolen glance or touch on the arm throughout the first movie.

But the second movie had surprised him with how often it caught him off guard.

Whoever Jae was that had suggested the film to Vincent, he would have to thank them for the suggestion if he ever met him.

It had been a while since a movie actually scared him.

He tried to hide how freaked out he was at one point, but that facade quickly fell away when he found himself clambering closer to Vincent, as though the ghostly hands on the screen would reach in front of his face next.

“Oh yeah, it’s awful, but the brothers love it.

” Vincent’s cheeks had taken on a lovely reddish color right before he finished off the bottle of wine he had brought up.

The thought of a drunk vampire should have been cause for concern, but Vincent’s posture relaxed and he threw an arm over Adam’s shoulders after the first jump scare and kept it there. “What did you think of this one?”

Leaning his head back against the wall, Adam focused on the ceiling to make sure it wasn’t spinning yet.

He didn’t want to get too drunk. “I think, by far, Spooky Korean Hospital is the scariest movie I have ever seen,” he said, rubbing his eyes as his exhaustion and the alcohol threatened to make him fall asleep.

Vincent laughed, stroking his shoulder. “That is not the name of the movie.”

“Whatever it’s called.” Turning his face to look at Vincent, Adam was surprised to see Vincent stealing another glance at him, but he didn’t try to turn away again when their eyes met.

Vincent’s eyes drifted down to his lips, his tongue flicking out before he blinked hard and glanced towards the television. “You know, most people wouldn’t want to watch a horror movie after the things you’ve been through recently.”

Adam couldn’t think of a response that didn’t give away how terribly broken his mind was, so he took a swig of the overly sweet liquor instead, relishing the pleasant burn that rushed down his throat.

He could easily blame the redness in his own face on the alcohol.

Vincent didn’t need to know he was fighting a very strong urge to lean over and kiss him.

Even if it was a bad idea. Even if he knew it would hurt his swollen lip.

The thought of that cold tongue exploring his was insane at best, obscene at worst. But he wanted to do it. So, so bad.

“I’m not most people,” he said.

Vincent smiled again, that genuine, not cocky smile that made his lower abdomen tight and nervous. “No, you certainly aren’t.” He reached up and brushed Adam’s bangs away from his forehead. “Even with your face like this, you still look like you could take on the world. What made you like this?”

He furrowed his brow at the phrasing. “I don’t know,” he began.

He could think of a dozen reasons he had certain reactions to certain stimuli.

He understood why he was such a relentless douchebag in school.

He understood the medical reasons his brain constantly sought out instant pleasure over delaying gratification.

He even understood his refusal to acknowledge his lack of wholeness.

But what exactly made him the human embodiment of bad decisions?

That wasn’t something he bothered to reflect on.

“Bullshit.”

Vincent may as well have punched him in his bruised rib. He stared straight ahead, trying to find the best way to phrase what he could say. But what could he say?

Try the truth.

“My family fucking sucks,” he blurted out.

Then the words kept coming, once again finding his mouth before they found his brain.

“My dad was starting a law firm, my mom was miserable as a stay-at-home mom, and my little sister died of SIDS. Mom had a bunch of stays in the hospital because she couldn’t stop drinking and taking Ativan, and my dad just worked longer hours so he didn’t have to deal with her.

I didn’t get good grades or want to do anything great by the time I was in middle school, so I thought that if I got into the same things my dad liked, he would at least show some affection.

And for the year that I played golf with him, he did. ”

“He’d take me to work with him and tell everyone there that I was going to be the boss one day, and then we’d go golf.

I hated golf. It’s a stupid, stupid sport for rich assholes and it’s boring, but at the end of the day, having my dad not be disappointed in me for a few hours a week was better than dealing with my mom.

So I pretended to love golf until the day I stepped in a sink hole and fucked up my leg. ”

His throat tightened, like he had swallowed a ball and it was trapped in his throat.

He took another swig of rakija, grimacing as he continued, “I had two surgeries to fix it when I was fourteen. That’s when I started taking pills.

And those pills were the answer I didn’t know I needed.

They didn’t solve my dad being shitty or my mom being a mess or my sister being dead, but they made me not care about any of that shit.

None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was staying fucked up.

And that was okay for a while. I hid it well, or they just ignored it. And then the accident happened…”

He shook his head, pulling up the pajama pants so he could look down at his prosthetic.

“I went to a party with some friends when I turned sixteen, and we all got stupid at this older guy’s house who let people party there as long as they brought booze for him.

Drinking, random pills, weed, shrooms, the works.

Everything was fine. We all passed out. But I woke up and this creep trying to get my pants off and I freaked out.

I grabbed a friend I was with and wanted to leave, but we were both too fucked up to drive and couldn’t find the keys to his car, so I called my mom for help. ”

His eyes stung with the threat of tears, so he closed them, bowing his head.

Vincent squeezed his shoulder, his touch soft and reassuring.

But he stayed silent. “I should have known she would be messed up, but she sounded fine on the phone, so we let her pick us up. And right before she drifted into oncoming traffic and hit some family head on, like a dumbass, I popped my feet up on the dashboard and fell asleep.”

He could hear the tone of his voice rising so he stopped. His father’s voice echoed in his ears, ‘Real men don’t cry. Strong men don’t lose control. Never show you’re weak.’

Well, he was feeling pretty fucking weak.

He was more than a little tipsy, more tears threatening to break free from his closed eyes, his entire chest spasming as he fought the sob building in his chest at the memory of crawling through broken glass across the asphalt, watching his mother stumble away from the scene and leaving him there as the few cars on the road at five in the morning stopped to help.

His eyes popped open when he realized the enormity of what he had just confessed. “Shit, I’ve never told anyone that my mom was the one driving that night,” he said, swallowing hard. “Vincent, you can’t tell anyone. No one is supposed to know.”

“It’s okay, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Vincent said softly, grabbing his hand. “I’m not exactly the type to run around telling secrets. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Clenching his fist, his chest tight and his face on fire as the tears finally began to roll down his cheeks.

“I did. I let my parents blame the whole thing on my friend. They said it wouldn’t be that bad for him because he was a minor, and my mom already had one DUI.

A-and then there was the other car.” The sob escaped and he tensed.

It was that kind of sob that would keep going if he let it.

“I-I-I was being a selfish, reckless piece of shit and I ruined lives that day, and instead of being thankful that I only lost my foot, I just g-got angrier and—”

“Adam, stop—”

“—every time I saw the kid from the other car, I was terrible to him. Just seeing him at school—I couldn’t take it.

So I’d do more drugs and say horrible things.

I did horrible things. Because it made me feel less shitty.

I tricked myself into blaming all my fucked up shit on other people, and for all I know that dude killed himself because of me—”

“Adam, you’re hyperventilating, you need to—”

He knew just needed to shut the fuck up and drink until he passed out, but the floodgates were open and he couldn’t stop.

“I deserve this shit, all of it. I’m a useless fucking junkie, just taking up space.

I should have just died in that accident, but I guess I couldn’t even do that right.

I don’t even know why you’ve kept me alive this long.

You should just do everyone a fucking favor and kill me already. ”

“Adam, STOP.” Vincent grabbed his face and kissed him.