Stalking The Smut Slut

Shattered and Spiraling

For mature readers only due to the graphic nature of some situations. Read at your own discretion: trigger warnings are meant for you to look over for a reason. Age gap, stalking, graphic depictions of sexual content, con, noncon, and dubcon, death, kidnapping, mental health issues, abuse (physical, emotional, sexual, verbal), addiction, BDSM, rough sex, unusual kinks, escorting, strong language, daddy issues, prison and felons, threesomes, drug use, self-harm, erotic romance, dark erotica, slow burn, hate to love, forbidden romance, possessive, controlling, and dominant men, sociopathic behavior, voyeurism, Stockholm syndrome, trauma bonding, talk of past trauma from both Mc and li, gunplay, knifeplay, opposites attract, etc, there are more triggers in this book but you get the gist.

Chapter 5: Shattered and Spiraling

Three months later

Brixton

She's fucking shattered. She lost her brother and her fiancé at the same time. On the same day. In the same fucking place. The same day Alec proposed to her. The same fucking day he got home from being overseas for a fucking year.
The sound of the crisp fall leaves crunching under my feet is oddly satisfying, keeping me calm as I venture down the street looking for some business. I've been out in the fucking streets more lately, all because Harley is always out now, and I just need to keep an eye on her to make sure she's fucking safe. They're not nice out here in Brockton, even though Southie is much worse, and Harley doesn't know what she's getting herself into.
She's spiraling and completely out of control. We've crossed paths a lot these last few months, and never under the best circumstances either. But we still haven't spoken a single fucking word to each other. But why would we? Shit, she doesn't need to know anything about me, even though I already fucking know everything about her.
And I mean everything.
It's the first actual day of fall, and the brisk, blanketing breeze, definitely makes it ring true. New England in the fall is breathtaking. It's my favorite place in the entire fucking world. The colorful leaves and the swirling winds bring me back to my childhood, and the few good memories I have of us playing in a pile of leaves. I slide my fidgety hands into my pockets to keep from shaking them to death, all while trying to shut the door to the past and run as fast as I fucking can.
I cross the street and bolt down Montello Ave, spotting the reason I'm on this side of town in the first place. An obvious drug deal goes down as I approach him from behind, and I'm half expecting to hear the "whoop whoop" of the police sirens any minute now.
That never happens, though. While waiting for him to finish up with his customer, I take a cigarette out of my pack and light it, tucking the filter between the corner of my chapped lips. The breeze whips through again, sending a bone-chilling shiver through my body, literally making my fucking teeth chatter.
"What's goin' on, Brix? I didn't think you'd show up."
"Nah, you know me better than that, Trig. If I say I'm gonna be somewhere, then I'm gonna fucking be there."
We shake hands and do a half-armed hug as we slowly walk through the crowd of gangsters, sluts, and fiends gathered all along the sidewalks, protecting their block. Trigger brings me back to his place and locks the door as soon as we walk the fuck in. His demeanor shifts, and suddenly the color drains from his face.
"Yo, what's going on, Trig?"
"I fucked up, Brix. I fucked up big fucking time."
After excessive pacing, Trigger manages to get himself to the couch, where he collapses and slouches against the back, slapping his hands over his face. I sit across from him in the broken recliner, staring at him in disbelief and confusion, wondering what the fuck is going on. He has been acting differently lately. He hasn't been around much, even though we live ten minutes apart. He's secluding himself but partaking in risky fucking behavior. It's almost like he's trying to get his parole revoked so he can go back to fuckin prison. Fuck that. I'm not going back there. Never.
"Trigger, what the fuck are you talking about, bro? You've got me all kinds of fucking confused right now."
Before he says anything, he sits upright and pulls out a pipe, followed by a tiny stamped baggie of crystal meth. My mouth waters as I watch him add thick shards of ice to the bulb and flick the lighter underneath it to melt it into smoke.
"If I'm gonna fuckin tell you what I did, then I'm gonna need to be fucking high. Already got a shot of dope ready too."
"Damn, you going all out tonight, Trig. Must be some big shit to get you freaked the fuck out like this."
"You have no fucking idea, Brix. No fucking idea."
After he hits the bowl, he passes it to me.
I put the mouthpiece between my lips and inhale as I melt the ice. The lethal poisons invade my lungs and disperse throughout my body, igniting a euphoric feeling that washes over me. I blink once, and everything looks different. The colors are more vivid, and shit is already coming to life. I'm not a fan of uppers like this, but if it's in front of me, I'm gonna fucking do it. I thank my parents for my addictive personality and toxic traits almost every fucking day of my life. I'd tell them in person, but, well... I'd rather not get into that topic right now. The heroin burns a hole in my pocket as the meth courses through my body and fills me with the unknown. I need to come down and like now. I don't even wait for Trigger to take his out. I pull the loaded syringe out of my pocket and stick it into a bulging vein in my hand right away. Just like fucking magic, a warm, tingling rush washes over my body, making my shoulders slump and my heart rate dip below normal. I'm calm, though, and I feel like my fucking self.
"Yo, just tell me what you did, man. I have a fucking meeting to get to, and you know I can't be late for that shit."
"Brix, let me fucking tell you what happened..."