//Rafe Cameron\\
"You don't make deals with the devil, not unless you want to dance with him and maybe I did"
Lily Grant has spent her whole life slumming it with the pogues, being that she is one.
They're her day ones, her best friends. Life coul...
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—Rafe—
My eyes flicker to the monitor again, watching the lines remain consistent as it monitors Lily's heartbeat. Resting my chin back down against the top of her head and my nose is filled with her sweet cherry and vanilla scent.
Scared doesn't even fucking begin to describe how I felt when I saw her passed out. Her lips blue and her chest not moving. My entire fucking soul left my body when I pressed my fingers under her jaw and felt nothing..Silently screaming for my mother to help me, help her. Pressing them deeper into her flesh, nothing and then the faintest throb hit my fingers.
She wouldn't wake up, even after I gave her the Narcan.. She wouldn't fucking wake up.. Her lips only got bluer and bluer and I swear her eyelids started to turn purple. I couldn't even feel heat under her nose from her breath. My mind went blank, blank of anything but pure fucking horror I started pushing down on her chest, trying not to break her rips but needing her fucking heart to keep beating.
Every sense I had stopped working. I couldn't hear Sarah sobbing, I couldn't hear the sirens blaring, or feel my own heart fucking pounding behind my ribs, or my pulse about to burst through my throat. I just needed to wake her up.
Seeing her like that awoke a fear I've never felt before..a fear I never want to feel again and what scared me even fucking more was that I had seen her like that before.. The first night I went to her house and found her overdosing but even then she had a stronger pulse, I could at least see her chest moving. But I didn't care. I saved her so she wouldn't die and it would be on my hands for leaving her but I didn't care.. I didn't fucking care about her and the thought makes me violently fucking ill I lost my mother that way, I couldn't lose Lily the same way.
I've felt sick the entire night. Fucking kicking myself for not taking that shit from her when I found it but I didn't think she was using it. It hadn't been touched the last time I saw it.
I don't think I'll ever stop fucking kicking myself for selling her what I had. I never would have sold anyone fucking crushed oxy, I might as well have killed then on the spot then give them that shit but I did sell her pills and other shit. With the understanding she'd follow the deal and sell it herself and get the money back to pay it off but I knew better than to believe anyone who told me that fucking story. Again, I didn't give a fuck what she did with it as long as I got my fucking money back.
She would have gotten it from Barry or that fucker or found someone else if I hadn't but it still makes me fucking ill to know I gave her anything. Thinking of it only makes me want to pound my fists into a fucking tree until they're black and blue, fucking busted and bleeding.
