Page 8

SEVEN

ADDICTION

SPEAKERS BLOWN: HIT THE LIGHTS

KILLIAN

1. Mother

2. Father

3. Holden Graham

4. Gunnar

5. Adam Moretti (Ash's father)

6. David Blacksburg (Kill's father)

7. Jackson Gray (Dom's father)

8. State Senator Pete Gallagher

9. Mayor Kyle Benjamin

10. City Councilman Marcus Rutherford

11. Judge Hayden Wilson

12. Brockton Chief of Police Robert Bailey

13. City Councilman Mr. Josè Brown

I took Cali's list. I knew I shouldn't have, but I needed to see the fucking truth for myself. I had to confirm that my father's name remained on the list—uncrossed. I needed to see it with my own fucking eyes.

With Ash still in a coma, and no updates, these past two weeks have felt fucking interminable. Everyone in the apartment moves like a damn zombie, heavily medicated, barely functional. But it's the only thing that helps. It's wrong, yes, but it's the only fucking way to dull the crushing pain. Right now, shit, I'm swallowing a handful of Xanax with Crown Royal vanilla. I hate the fucking bitter taste, but I endure it, knowing the oblivion it promises.

We're fucking addicted. To drugs, alcohol, sex, even fucking violence. And it doesn't look like things will change anytime soon.

Glancing back at the list, I trace my finger over the crossed-out names, remembering the fierce girl who changed our lives, despite Ash's current plight. It's not her fault, yet she blames herself. Cali, I fear, is spiraling faster than the rest of us, and if something doesn't change, we'll fucking lose her again.

Dom's shout jolts me back to reality. I quickly pocket the list and head out to see what's happening. It's a rare Friday night with everyone home—unusual for us. Cali looks furious, her fist raised, ready to strike Dom. Five tries to intervene, but for once, she's faster, dodging his grasp.

"Whoa, what the fuck is going on?" I ask, looking between them.

"He took my fucking list!" she screams, her face flush with rage.

"I didn't take it, Cali," Dom says, his voice softer. "I swear."

"You were the last one to see fucking it. Where else would it be?" Her arms fall, but the glare she sends him feels like a physical blow.

I know I should confess, but I'm not ready to let go of the list. Holding it feels strangely vitalizing. But I can't let this cause more conflict. I reach into my pocket, gently taking Cali's elbow and pulling her into a hug.

"Dom didn't take your list, baby." I hand it to her, bracing for her wrath.

But her reaction is far worse. She snatches the list, rolls her eyes, and pushes me away with surprising strength. "Sorry for freaking out, Dom," she says, hugging him before storming out without another word.

Five and Dom stare at me, shocked. I can only sigh, sinking into the worn recliner as they join me, sitting on the couch. Five, as usual, lights a blunt, and we pass it around in stunned silence.

A thick haze of smoke hangs in the air, like a fog clinging to a moonless night. The music playing—tracks from our childhood—wraps us in a nostalgic bubble no one dares to burst. Finally, I break the silence, my thoughts pressing in. Taking a long drag of my cigarette, I exhale slowly, trying not to choke on the smoke as I speak.

"You think she'd be mad if I killed my father? Just... did it, and didn't tell her?" I ask, curious about their opinions.

Unlike Dom and Ash, my father is still alive. He's still fucking here, continuing his depraved acts. I've been watching him since Ash's hospitalization, and what I've seen and heard fucking sickens me. I just want him gone. I want my freedom. I want to stop looking over my fucking shoulder.

"Dude, she'd probably fucking kill you if you didn't tell her first." Five laughs, coughing on the smoke.

"Yeah, she's just as angry at your father as you are. She needs closure to move on. Once she's dealt with everyone on that list, she can start healing, rebuilding her life," Dom says, offering insight into Cali's mindset that hadn't occurred to me.

"You're right." I shake my head, biting back what I desperately want to confess.

"What is it?" Dom asks, his gaze sharp, sensing my hesitation.

How do I tell my best friend I've been craving murder? It's almost as fucking addictive as the drugs.

"How fucked up is it that I want to kill someone?" I blurt out, holding my breath.

Surprisingly, Dom and Five laugh, releasing the tension in my shoulders. Five's eyes gleam with a playful high, but Dom's expression is more serious, almost… intrigued, as if he might feel the same. Whether we like it or not, we've plunged deeper into the fucking darkness we always wanted to escape. The closer we get to freedom, the more unstable we become. Our morals have vanished, if we ever had any. Our souls are as black as our guarded hearts.

"You're crazy, Kill," Five says, as if stating the obvious.

"I know I'm crazy. I've never denied it, and I won't start now." I shrug, proud and obvious.

Still laughing, Five grabs his hoodie and keys. "I'm heading to H-Town. I need to get out of this place before I fucking lose it," he says, saluting us before leaving.

I turn to Dom, the twisted look still in his eyes. "Let me guess, you feel the same?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He pauses, weighing his answer. "I do," Dom admits, his voice filled with a newfound confidence. "I've wanted to for days, but I didn't want to say anything if no one else felt it."

"Me too," I chuckle. "I definitely feel it."

Dom leans back, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across his face. The flickering light from the TV screen dances across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He reaches for the half-empty bottle of Crown Royal, swirling the amber liquid before taking a long, deliberate sip.

"So," he begins, his voice low and measured, "we're all a little... unhinged, huh?"

"Just a little." I nod, the smoke from my cigarette curling around my face like a halo.

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable; it's a complex understanding, a comfortable weight of unspoken desires. We've crossed a fucking line, and there's no going back. The thrill of the impending violence, the intoxicating allure of revenge—it's a high unlike any other. It's a dark, twisted addiction, but it's ours.

"I've been thinking," Dom continues, his gaze fixed on the swirling smoke, "maybe we should... coordinate."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Coordinate?"

"Yeah," he says, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "We've all got someone we know who we want killed. Maybe we could work together. Make it… more efficient."

The idea hangs in the air, heavy and intoxicating. The thought of a coordinated assault, a synchronized dance of vengeance, sends a shiver down my spine. It's terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly compelling. It's the fucking logical next step in our descent.

"I like the way you fucking think," I say, a grin spreading across my face. "But we need a plan. A strategy."

Dom nods, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "We'll need to figure out the logistics. Timing, escape routes… the whole nine yards."

We fall silent again, our minds already racing, plotting, strategizing. The nostalgic music from our childhood fades into the background, replaced by the silent hum of anticipation. The fog of smoke thickens, obscuring the lines between right and wrong and blurring the boundaries of sanity. We're lost in the darkness, but together. And in this darkness, we find a strange, twisted kind of brotherhood forged in blood, pain, and the intoxicating promise of revenge. The list, clutched in my pocket, feels heavier now, a tangible symbol of our shared descent into madness. The game has changed. And we're ready to fucking play.

"Before we do all that..." I mumble, palming my dick over my pants, watching Dom's eyes curiously dart right to it. "I could use some head right now. You up for getting your mouth dirty, Dom?" I smirk, licking my lips and continuing to rub until my cock is rock hard.

"Come over here. I ain't getting down on my fucking knees after the shit I just went through with my leg." He shakes his head, licking his lips as I get up and eagerly sit down beside him.

I waste no time unzipping my pants, pulling my cock out to stroke a few good times. Dom's eyes remain on my hand, studying my movements as if he's trying to burn it into his brain how I like it. But he should already know. This wouldn't be the first time he's had my cock in his mouth. All three of us have fucked around, and quite frankly, I'm in the mood for Dom right now. Cali is the furthest thing from my mind.

"Are you just gonna stare at it, Dom? Or are you going to be a good fucking boy for me tonight and put my cock in your mouth?"

"Shut the fuck up with that good boy shit. I ain't no fucking boy," he snaps, lowering his head to my groin.

Reaching up, he wraps his hand around my fucking throat so tightly it's hard to breathe at first. He's into choking Cali; he knows it isn't my forte. But I deal with it, closing my eyes as his warm mouth envelopes my dick, his thick tongue swirling around the bulging vein as his head begins to bob up and down.

Fuck, it feels good. I reach down and fist his hair, pushing his head down, making my cock inch deeper down his throat. He seals his lips around the base and swallows, making my body spasm as his muscles tighten around the tip.

"Jesus, Dom," I hiss, holding his head as he sucks me, his hand still holding my throat, my veins pulsing against his fingertips.

My eyes fling open as he curls his tongue around my shaft as he slowly slides me out of his mouth, sucking only on the tip with his cheeks hollowed out. My legs shake. The vein running down my cock throbs like a heartbeat. Goosebumps cover my skin from the sensation.

I watch as his spit drips from his lips in strings, landing on my balls, which he randomly cradles with his free hand, giving them a gentle massage that edges me even more. I spread my legs and lean my head back, feeling his grip on my throat loosen. Still with my hand in his hair, pushing his head up and down, he sucks faster, deep throating me and sending me over the edge sooner than I fucking wanted.

"Fuck, Dom," I pant, thrusting my hips up, fucking his mouth.

I push his head down and hold it there as I fuck his mouth harder and faster, his tongue gliding around the piercings in my dick. I shiver. A few grunts leave my lips, and before I know it, hot cum fills up his mouth. Locking eyes with me while he sucks me dry, he swallows every drop and flashes me a wink when I finish.

"Feel better?" he asks, licking his lips as he comes up for air.

"Much." I tuck my cock back into my pants and light another cigarette. "Now let's go find ourselves an unlucky motherfucker."