Darkness Before Dawn

every fucking day. Fucker won't tell me shit. I'm gonna have to kick it out of him if he keeps playing games with me. Godfather or not, I don't give a fuck. I already warned him. He keeps saying he's handling it, but I don't see shit being handled. He won't tell me shit. Fucking Bruce didn't see anyone coming for her, which says a lot, since, well, you know Bruce. He's a fucking ex-Marine for Christ sake. What the fuck, man. What the fuck?" I sob.
    "I know, dude. I fucking know. Becky can't fucking think, she's not eating right and that shit's unhealthy for the baby. She keeps talking crazy, saying she doesn't wanna be pregnant if Blake's not here. Doesn't wanna fucking have a kid if Blake's not gonna be around for it. I miss Cowboy to death, yo, but fuck, that's my fucking kid she's talking 'bout. I don't think she'd do anything stupid, but I'm fucking scared to leave her crazy ass for too long. With Mags gone, and now Blake missing, I'm about to fucking take Aubry's ass to live with us for a while."
    I let out a shaky laugh thinking about that. "I doubt he'd go. Aubry loves Becks, I'm sure he wants to be there for her, but he's out of his mind without Cowboy." I hear Greg snicker. "Fuck you. I know I'm out of my damn mind without her, but he's hurting too, they fucking lived together their whole lives. They were attached at the hip. I swear if I didn't know for a fact that Aubry is scared shitless of me, I would have a problem with that."
    Greg laughs loudly, making the bed creak. "Aubry wouldn't try to get with Blake because he knows she'd kick his ass."
    I smile at the thought. "As long as he never touched my girl, we're good."
    "Yeah," Greg yawned, "good night, man. Try to get some rest, tomorrow's gonna be a long day."
    He's right. Tomorrow I go back to hell. Back home. Without her...again.

 

    I turn my tender body in the mattress that has become an extension of my body. Sensitive to my surroundings, I pick up the sounds and smells around me. The voices outside the door and opening and closing of the fridge clue me in to the time of day. The schedule rarely changes, which is one reason I can't differentiate weekdays from weekends. Not that a Monday is different from a Friday to me, though it would make it easier for me to figure out how long I've actually been here. I could ask, but I doubt I'd get an answer. I only care because I like to torture myself wondering whether or not anybody is still looking for me. I know Cole's still looking for me though. He has to be.
    When Dean comes to bring my food, he tells me that I'll be helping out in the kitchen upstairs, which surprises me since I'm rarely allowed up there.
    "Why? What about Benny? Is he here?" I ask as my heart hammers in my chest. I don't want to think about seeing Benny or the possibility of him cornering me. I've only seen him once up there, and thankfully Dean was nearby, but even with the distance between us, he scares the shit out of me.
    "I dunno where Benny's at, but you know he won't get near you. The maid's not here today and they have company tonight, so the kitchen needs to be cleaned," Dean says as he hands me my silverware.
    As soon as I take a bite of the bagel with cream cheese I get grossed out and toss it back on the plate. I get up and let him escort me, passing the men sorting out pills and powder on the table in the middle of the room. I walk up the stairs behind Dean and finally into the house, and a shudder runs through me when my bare feet meet the cold marble floor of the mansion. I look around, taking in the details of my luxurious surroundings, a far cry from the murky basement below. When we walk into the open kitchen, I eye the clock that reads 11:00 as I roll up my sweat pants to just above my ankle and my sleeves to my elbows before filling the bucket Dean hands me with water and Pine Sol. The intense smell of the product makes me gag, but I take a deep breath and block everything out of my mind as I begin to clean, scrubbing and wiping down the surfaces while Dean calls some restaurants and finds out about food delivery.
    By two o'clock, my hands feel sore, but I'm done and the place looks spotless. Dean looks impressed when I tell him that I think I'm finished. He walks over to the fridge, pulling out two beers and handing me one. I give him a wide-eyed stare, not sure if he's really offering it to me or just testing me to see if I'd take it.
    "What? You don't drink Bud?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
    "Umm...not