Ashes of Another Life

You’re trouble, boy. Nothing but trouble and you deserve everything you get. A rotten apple spoils everything it comes in contact with and so do you.

Ricky shivered slightly in the cool breeze wafting in around the glass panes of the window in front of him as the voice replayed over and over in his head like it had so many times before. Glancing to his right, he stared emotionlessly at the sleeping form on the bed a few feet away with hard blue eyes and sighed silently. He was no good for Snow and he knew it. All he was doing was dragging his friend and lover down with him into the dark abyss of self-destruction that was his life and nothing had changed since moving into their own place.

His gaze softened some as he studied Snow’s peaceful features in the pale moonlight and something twisted in his stomach. A strong pull of longing washed through him as he noticed the way Snow’s long, dark hair lay across his cheek in soft wisps and he resisted the urge to go over and brush it back from the finely drawn face. Too beautiful to be destroyed … he couldn’t stay here and let it happen to the only person that had ever given a damn about him. That was no way to repay someone for caring about what happened to you no matter how stupid and stubborn you got with them about it.

Pulling his gaze from Snow’s passive features, Ricky turned back to the window and stared out at the darkened street below. It was only a matter of time before Carlo got wind that he’d still been doing side work to feed his habit. Word traveled fast on the streets and there was no loyalty among addicts when it came to keeping a secret or telling all and getting another fix to feed their craving. The time would come when he’d have to pay for going behind his boss’ back again to make some extra cash for his own addiction and he had a feeling that it wasn’t too far off in his future … if Carlo didn’t already know about the private tricks Ricky had picked up on his own time.

He never meant for it to go that far, never meant for his addiction to get that much out of hand, but the euphoria he’d gotten from his first time smoking the waxy rock had hooked him like a fisherman hooking a starving swordfish. It was like finally finding a way to shut up those voices in his head that kept telling him he was worthless and would never amount to anything more than he was now … a strung out prostitute in a city full of human wreckage. It hadn’t taken long for him to graduate from smoking the crack rocks to needing more of the expensive cousin to it.

Snorting the white powder gave him more energy and stamina than pills and the occasional heroin laced reefer ever had done and he needed that to work the long nights of selling himself on the streets. The more he used to try and get back the euphoric high he’d experienced that first time, the more he needed to sustain the one he’d gotten each time after. It was a never-ending circle that was becoming more and more noticeable to everyone around him and he had to do something before it back lashed at Snow.

A low murmur came from the bed, drawing his attention back to the sleeping form curled up in the middle like a lithe cat. Ricky’s heart skipped a little as he watched Snow turn over into a more comfortable position, his arm snaking out across the emptiness as if feeling for something that was supposed to be there beside him. It’s you, a voice in his head stated mockingly. He’s gotten use to holding you after all those nights you came home fucked up and sick from the drugs. You’ve made him worry about you.

He had to go, had to get out of here before Snow woke up looking for him and talked him into staying. There was no way he wanted his lover to be blamed for his veering off the path that Carlo had kept them on but he knew it wouldn’t be only him that was punished for the transgression. Carlo took anything that fucked with his money seriously and Ricky knew he wouldn’t be happy to find out that one of his money makers was cutting into his take to feed an out of control cocaine habit.

Swiping his blond hair back over his shoulders, Ricky let the curtain fall closed and turned from the window, quietly picking his boots up from the floor beside the bed and making his way toward the bedroom door. If he was going to go, it had to be now while Snow was unaware of his leaving. He never could win an argument with his lover when it came to things like this and he didn’t feel like getting into a fight over it right now. It was easier to just leave without a word and hope he would understand. He could finish dressing in the living room where he’d have less chance of waking Snow.

“Ricky?”

The sleepy voice stopped him in his tracks with one hand on the doorknob. Cursing silently, he looked back over his shoulder to find Snow sitting up in the bed. “Go back to sleep, Snow,” he ordered softly, watching the younger teen as he raised one hand and pushed his long hair back from his face. “It ain’t time to get up yet.”

Snow’s features lit with a soft smile, his eyes still glazed from the deep sleep he’d been in. “Where you goin? Ain’t you coming to bed?” He moved his arms behind him and planted his palms flat on the sheet, leaning back so his weight rested on his arms. “It’s late.”

Ricky shook his head, ignoring the thrill of desire that shot through him at the alluring picture his lover made in the faint moonlight. “Not right now.” He moved the hand holding his boots further to the right so Snow wouldn’t see them in the shadows. “I’m thirsty. Just gonna go to the kitchen and get something to drink.” He forced a smile on his lips, hoping Snow would be too groggy to notice that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes,” he lied smoothly, feeling a tug of guilt in his chest at having to lie to his friend. “Go on back to sleep, Snow.”

“I can get up with you, Ricky,” the dark haired boy assured softly, making as if to throw the covers back. “If it’s company you need, I don’t mind sitting up with you for a while.”

“No.” It came out more forcefully than he’d intended as the desperation to get out of there rose stronger and his friend froze with one hand on the corner of the blankets. He averted his gaze from the shocked expression on Snow’s face and quickly shoved the anxiety and anger to the back of his mind, forcing himself to keep his tone neutral as he strove to assure the other boy that there was no need for him to get out of the bed. “I won’t be long, Snow,” he said in a more even tone than before. “There’s no reason for you to get up just cause I got dry mouth.”

A soft sigh came from behind him and the sheets rustled. “Okay, Ricky,” Snow replied softly, the hurt evident in his words. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Impulse hit him then and he leaned down to set his boots on the floor in the shadows. “It’s nothing you’ve done, Snow,” he said in a low voice as he straightened back up and turned to face the bed. “I just feel like being alone right now, okay?”

“Too much stimulation?” Snow raised his eyebrows knowingly, the sleepy glaze almost gone from his eyes. “It’s getting out of control, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” His chest tightened and his feet moved across the floor despite his mind telling them to stay put. Seconds later, he found himself standing beside the bed gazing down at his lover’s worried face. “I’ll be okay, baby.” Leaning over, he braced his hands on the mattress on either side of Snow and gently kissed him, letting his tongue slide over the boy’s full bottom lip. Satisfaction filled him when Snow moaned softly against his probing and he pulled back to stare into his dark eyes. “Go on back to sleep. Everything is gonna be okay now.”

A gentle smile tilted Snow’s lips up a little and he reached up one hand to tug lightly on a lock of Ricky’s blond hair that was hanging over his shoulder. “Go get your drink,” he ordered huskily, his brown eyes made darker by the effect of the kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready for me.”

A strong urge to climb into the bed and finish what he’d started pulled at Ricky but he ignored it. He had to go now or he’d never leave. Snow was just as much an addiction for him as the cocaine he was named for but he couldn’t drag him down with him. It had to stop somewhere and he was drawing the line right here.

Pushing himself upright, he strode over to the door and picked his boots back up while yanking the bedroom door open in one fluid motion. He’d have to wait a little while before he could leave the apartment and give Snow time to drift back off to sleep but that wouldn’t take long since the soft breathing behind him was already slowing down even as he stepped out into the short hallway and pulled the door closed behind him.

It was now or never.

0o0o0o0o

The fog was getting worse. Ricky leaned his head back against the dirty wall behind him and let his half closed eyes wander over the various faces in the room with him. He knew he was close to crossing the line between totally stoned and dangerously wasted but he couldn’t muster up enough emotion in his cracked and coked out brain to care if he was doing too much in too short a time.

He flinched a little as he noticed the dark skinned girl a few feet away shoving a needle into the crook of her arm, his stomach lurching a little as he noticed how tightly she had the filthy bandana cinched around her upper bicep … his bandana. Somehow her using a piece of him to do that with made it seem worse but he was beyond the ability to move, much less do anything about it. He didn’t remember giving the black cloth to her, but then he couldn’t remember much of anything about the past two days and he preferred it that way.

Or is it three days? He looked away as the girl let the needle hang from her arm like a leach and loosened the bandana, the nausea hitting him again. Part of him kept trying to remember her name since he knew that she was familiar to him but another part kept telling him to just shut up with the thinking before he ruined the intense buzz he had going with too much brain action.

Someone nudged him from his left and he turned his head slowly to focus on the joint that was being held almost under his nose. Automatically, he raised one shaking hand and took it without even bothering to see who had offered it to him. People had been coming and going from the dim room and he’d lost track of who was here and who had left as the sunlight filtered through the dirty windows of the abandoned apartment building as darkness came and went. He’d started out under the South End Bridge but had been coaxed into coming here when the cold of night started fucking with his high. It didn’t matter to him who was here as long as Snow never saw him like this.

Snow. He inhaled deeply from the joint, enjoying the acrid burn of what he recognized to be heroin laced into the mellow weed before passing it back to whoever had handed it to him. Fighting to hold the smoke in his lungs as long as possible, he let his mind drift back to his friend. The image of Snow lying on the bed in the moonlight just as vivid in his mind’s eye now as it had been so long ago when he’d left their apartment. He hoped Snow wasn’t catching any shit because of him not showing up for work on his usual corner but he just couldn’t seem to get himself together enough to make an effort at turning tricks right now. It would take too much energy despite the over use of stimulants.

“This the one you want?” A gruff voice cut through the haze in Ricky’s brain as a shadow fell over him. It was familiar to him but he ignored it, filing it away in the back of his mind as just another paranoid thought brought on by the drugs. “He’s blond.”

Nerve endings jerked when someone kicked his booted foot hard and Ricky forced his head back enough to peer up at the shadowy form standing over him with blurry eyes. “What the fuck you want?” he asked in a slurred, offended tone. Irritation at having his peace shattered in such a way flooded him. “Go ‘way and leave me …” He trailed off as another form moved up beside the larger one, his eyes widening despite the effects of the weed that had caused them to narrow against the dim lighting. “C-Carlo.”

Anger was showing clearly in the almost black eyes of the Italian as he looked Ricky over disgustedly. “That’s him.” He motioned with one hand to the muscular man beside him. “Get him up and let’s get outta this wasteland.”

Basic fear flittered through Ricky as he was hauled up onto his feet to sway drunkenly in front of the two men, his mind racing with all kinds of thoughts about why Carlo would be here looking for him. Coherent thoughts were few and far between when his gaze met the enraged brown eyes and he resisted the urge to try to explain himself to Carlo, opting instead to fake innocence. “Whatcha doin’ here, Carlo?”

Pain exploded in his face when the back of the Italian’s hand cracked against his cheek, snapping his head to the side and sending him crashing back into the wall. A dull throbbing settled into the cheek and he stopped himself as his hand raised slowly toward the injured part of his face, choosing instead to shove the hair out of his face that had fallen across his vision. “What was that …”

“Shut the fuck up, Ricky,” Carlos ordered menacingly, his lips curling in loathing as he looked him up and down. “You look like hell and I’ve got a job for you to do.” Turning away from him, he motioned to the muscular guy again. “Grab him and let’s get outta here before we catch something. I can fill him in on the way.”

Ricky flinched as hands gripped his upper arms tightly but quickly smoothed his expression back to one of emotionless unconcern as he was shoved ahead of the big guy across the trash-strewn room. He had a vague idea of what was ahead of him and Carlo’s anger didn’t bode well for what was to come once they were wherever he was being removed to. Stumbling down the narrow stairway toward the street, he decided that it would be easier on him to just keep his mouth shut and go along with whatever it was Carlo had in mind for him … as hard as it would be to not mouth off to the man.

Guess he should pick his whores more carefully …