Trigger Happy

Chapter 6: Trigger Happy

Brixton

The sound of the front door closing awakens me after having spent the first half of the night in a drug-induced stupor. In an effort to wake up and see my surroundings, I sit up and wipe the sleep from my eyes and the slimy drool from my lips. I notice right away that Trigger is no longer in the living room, and panic sets in. The blanket that once covered me tumbles to the ground in a heap as I leap off the couch. This motherfucker defied everything I said. I mutter to myself as I stumble over everything in my path to the door in the pitch-black room. When I get to the door and swing it open, the light from the hallway fucks with my eyes, even though it's dim and the lights are flickering. I march down the hard, steep stairs in bare feet while firmly holding onto the handrail as I try to look for this dick, fully aware that I'm only wearing my tight, revealing boxer briefs, which have a goddamn stiffy straining against the silk fabric. Unknown to me, something inside causes me to veer away from the front exit and stomp in the direction of the apartment building's back door. I push the fucking metal bar down and shove the door open, oblivious to the chilly October air. I step outside and immediately feel a fucking gust of wind that takes my breath away. I immediately wrap my arms around my bare chest in a desperate attempt to gain some warmth while rubbing the sides of my arms with my palms.

Fuck this shit. Where is this motherfucker? As I turn the corner and look around the dumpsters, the answer to my query becomes clear. When I see Trigger with her, anger erupts once more inside of me. Again. When I had already fucking warned him to stay away from her ass. I'm not just saying that shit out of jealousy; nothing good will come of them being together. If I wanted Harley, I'd fucking take her. Of course I want Harley, but at the moment it just fucking can't happen. Trigger, though? Nah. Trigger can't fuck with her. The only thing he’s going to fucking do is hurt her. He'll break her fucking heart in the process, and I can't let that happen. With my hands down by my sides, completely unconcerned by the chilly air, I charge over to them. Seeing my little bird, my cock hardens despite the cold. She lowers her head and laughs at something Trigger says as her silky, chocolate hair falls in her face from one side and cascades perfectly down one shoulder. Her long, thin legs leave you seriously wondering what's underneath her fitted skirt. My breathing labors as I think about her legs wrapped around me while I’m pounding my cock into her tight, pretty pussy. I can't fucking stop my mind from wandering to inappropriate thoughts and lewd scenarios. Her laugh sends my nerves into fucking overdrive, making my entire body tingle with warmth and need. God, I fucking want her. Eight fucking years later, I still want her. The feeling I'll have when I'm inside of her will be better than anything my hand and her pictures can possibly convey. With brazen abandon, Trigger approaches her and drags his fingers down her stomach before stopping at her hip bone. Oh, hell fucking no.

“Yo, Trig, what the fuck are you doing?”

When she hears my deep growl, Harley flinches and moves backward. She flicks the ash from the cherry of her cigarette before placing it between her red, full lips and sucking. Goosebumps prickle all over my body as a chill runs down my spine, causing me to shudder. A seductive, devilish grin appears on her face as she takes in the sight of me in my fucking underwear. Despite my desire to entertain this scenario, I shift my hungry gaze from my little bird to Trigger, giving him a deadly, knowing look that wipes the smirk from his face.

“What’s the problem, Br-”

"Don't say my fucking name, Trig. She doesn’t need to know what the fuck it is. And you know exactly what the fucking problem is, Trig. We just talked about this shit.”

“What if Miss Harley wants to talk to me? Huh?” He responds coyly, raising his brow in defiance.

“Go inside, little bird. It’s way past your fucking bedtime.”

“Fuck you, B. You're not my fucking father." I step into her and reach around, one hand cupping her ass, then yanking her into my chest.

"I'm not your father, but I can be your daddy." I fire back flirtatiously.

"What the fuck, B?" You tell me to fuck off, but you're seeing her?" I let her go and step away, savoring the aroused look on her face.

"Man, I was fucking with her. Just shut the fuck up and come back in, or you're not going to stay here."

“Okay, I'll spend a few days with Harley.” I pause briefly as I try to process what he just said. Knowing what will happen if they stay together, disgust and jealousy course through me, causing my hands to shake frantically.

"She's no-"

"Yeah, B, Trigger can stay with me if he wants to." She bites back venomously, inching closer to him.

"All right, I'll throw your shit in the fucking hall. I'm going back to fucking bed. "Fuck this shit."

Without waiting for either of them to speak, I turn on my bare heels and saunter back toward the door I exited through. I gave it a shot. If she wants to let him into her life and her fucking apartment, that's her choice. I was trying to keep her from getting her heart broken, but, oh, fucking well.

Harley

My gaze is drawn to "B's" tight ass, following his seductive movements as he walks away, stomping toward the back door. Who is he to fucking tell me who I can and can’t talk to? I don't even know what his name is. I know absolutely nothing about him, and he knows absolutely nothing about me. Trigger, his friend, stands beside me, his shoulder pressing firmly against mine. Our fingers brush up against each other, and he tickles his against mine. Still, my eyes are glued to the ink etched into "B's" skin, and they follow it like a map, getting lost in the array of colors and designs that overwhelm my vision. He's absolutely breathtaking, but he's also a complete fucking asshole. I turn to face Trigger as he walks into the building, now wondering what the fuck I agreed to.

“Was it just a show for Br- B, or were you really serious about letting me stay with you for a few days?”

He moves his fingers up my arm before stopping when my hip is within his reach. My gaze wanders over his body, noticing the unique designs he has inked into his skin, and my mouth begins to water. I'm not surprised by the words that slip from my mouth as I graze my hand down his chest, given the amount of alcohol and drugs in my system. He pulls me in by the waist as he leans against a deep red motorcycle.

“You can stay with me for a few days.”

“Thanks, Har. Appreciate that, girl.”

Back in my apartment, Trigger puts his things in my bedroom, curiously taking a look around at the posters and art hanging on my wall that I haven’t taken down because Alec put them up. I can’t bring myself to do it, just like I can’t bring myself to get rid of his clothes and everything else that’s in our apartment. My apartment… I never imagined that losing someone you care about would be so difficult. I've known death and loss before, but never so intimately or so close to my heart. That day, I lost the loves of my life: my brother and my fiancé were cruelly taken from me without a fucking reason. I'm still baffled as to why it had to be them. Anxiety starts to brew inside of me, making panic and fear start to attack my thoughts as my mind drifts into the black hole that has me firmly in its grip. I squat down and pull the box out from under my bed while Trigger is, I presume, in the bathroom, and I snatch a few things out of it. I use a tiny airplane bottle of vodka to wash down my prescribed Valium, and as the pills slide down my throat in the stream of the burning alcohol, I can already feel myself calming down. I take out the loaded syringe I had prepared earlier and quickly locate a vein. My body unwinds, my shoulders sag, and a sigh comes out of my mouth. My thoughts become completely blank, and a haze fills my head, obscuring all the unpleasant thoughts and memories exactly as I wanted. I don't want to remember them or the events of that day. It's too painful, and...

I notice a shadow in the hall light, and Trigger clicks his tongue at me as he stands in the doorway. I turn to him and shrug, not caring if he notices what I'm doing. Much to my surprise, he enters my bedroom and hops on the bed, making himself at home in Alec's place.

“What are y-”

"Get out of there," I said. I stuff the needle and the rest of the shit into the box and shove it under the bed. Confusion whirls in Trigger's chocolate-brown eyes as he stares at me. I stand and grab his wrist, trying to yank him out of Alec's spot, panic rushing through me once more.

"Whoa, Harley, what the fuck? Jesus.”

"Trigger, get up. I don’t want you in my bed, okay?”

When I see Alec's photo on my nightstand, my chest feels as though it is being squeezed in a vice. He must have noticed the expression on my face because he paces the floor at the foot of the bed while frantically running his hands through his unruly hair. My tears are falling down my cheeks, but my sobs are silent. I turn away from him, intending to leave the room, but Trigger wraps his fingers around my wrist and yanks me into his arms. I try to push off his chest, but he tightens his embrace, refusing to let go as he tries to search my eyes for a hint of what’s happening with me. His gaze is soft, and his eyes are kind as they roam my face while his thumbs brush away the tears from my cheeks.

“Harley, baby girl, what’s the matter?” His tone is smooth like butter and soft like cotton, washing a sense of comfort over me as he speaks.

“It’s nothing, Trigger. Don’t worry about it.” I assure him, desperately hoping he buys into the whole facade I’m trying to convey.

"I'm Scotty. Trigger is what the streets call me, but you can call me Scotty, baby girl."

It's Scotty, huh? I can see that.”

"I like how it sounds coming from those pouty lips of yours." His heavy, dark eyes are filled with a cloud of desire as he seductively tugs on his bottom lip while sucking it between his teeth.

"Now tell me why you were crying."

Scotty takes my hand and leads me out of the bedroom and into my living room, sensing something is wrong. He sits on the couch and pulls me into his lap, as if this is nothing out of the ordinary for us. But it isn't. I haven't been in such close quarters with a man in this type of setting since Alec three months ago. I try not to move around too much because of the slight boner he has pressing against my ass, but he tickles the delicate skin on my thighs and makes it difficult to remain still.

"Har, talk to me."

"It really isn't anything. Since my fiance's death a few months ago, nobody has slept on that side of the bed.

"Oh, shit. I'm so fucking sorry. I had no idea."

The way his hands run down my body sends an intense burning over my skin, one that has all the cares in my mind flying out the fucking window. When I turn to face him, he tightens his hold on my waist and uses his other hand, dragging his fingertips across my collarbone. He licks his lips eagerly and casts his eyes around my face before settling on my lips. I'm not sure how it happens, but our lips fuse in an instant and our tongues twirl in a heated battle. A slight moan escapes my throat, traveling directly into Scotty’s as he cups my cheek and deepens the kiss. Before I know it, one thing leads to another. I take the lead and deepen the kiss, straddling his lap and pinning him against the couch. Scotty presses against my flesh with his hands, kneading it like dough. I move my hands up his stomach, tracing the defined muscles that cover his abdomen. They look like they were sculpted in marble because they are tight and precise, almost like they were painted on. Another sultry groan escapes my throat as he bites my bottom lip and then brushes my teeth with the piercing in his tongue.

"Fuck, Harley. You sure this is what you want to do? He pants as our mouths part, but only for long enough for both of us to rip off our shirts and toss them to the ground in a heap.

"As long as you've got a condom, Scotty." Fuck me, please, so I forget. I beg, unafraid of seeking solace, even if it means taking a risk. Everyone grieves in their own unique way, and this is how I am grieving.

“Damn, baby girl. Hearing you fucking beg me is enough to make me bust my load.”

He snickers as he holds onto me and flips me to my back, laying me on a pile of clothes on the couch that I’ve been meaning to fold. He hovers over me, his gaze deep in mine as he sweeps his hand down my body, resting it right between my thighs. He touches me, and I buck my hips as his palm rubs my pussy and his fingers caress my clit. He flings open my legs and lies down between them, maintaining a fixed gaze on me, causing my body to tremble slightly. My toes curl up against the couch cushion as his finger circles my opening, spreading my arousal in a tease that sends my legs trembling. He rolls a condom over his shaft, aligns the tip with my opening, and then slowly presses himself inside the warm, moist space, making my back arch as he does so. As Scotty pushes, squeezing his hard, veiny cock between my walls, images of Alec and I replay in my head, and I find it impossible to stop thinking about them. In an effort to forget about my broken heart, I grab Scotty by the back of his head and pull him down so that our lips once again come together. He repeatedly hits my spot with the tip of his cock while grunting into my mouth, but the more I try to reach my climax, the further away it gets. He slides out of me and slams back in, stretching me even more and leaving a lingering, unpleasant burn in his wake. However, the pain makes me feel alive. It helps me realize I'm not dead, and I find myself looking for more of it as I dig my nails into the skin on his back. Scotty fucks me into oblivion with vibrant, shallow strokes, spilling his come into the condom as his body spasms on top of mine. I really want to come myself, but I just can't seem to get it, so when he pulls out of my pussy and slides the full condom off his cock, it makes me even more agitated. While I'm lying here, gasping for air, my chest heaves, and contractions rip into my lower belly, leaving me with a tight, unfulfilled feeling inside. This is going to be hell with him staying here.

Brixton

I can't sleep for fucksake. Since returning to my apartment, all I've done is toss and fucking turn while obsessing over nagging theories about what's happening at Harley's house. I know Trigger like the back of my fucking hand, and I'm positive he's already fucked my little bird by this point. She isn't mine and never will be, I try to tell myself as I cringe at the thought. After eight years, I'm still fucking happy to just watch her. That's all I'll ever get to do. Or am I? In a fit of rage, I sit up in bed and rip the blanket off of myself. I pulled open the little drawer in my nightstand with too much force, yanking it right off the tracks. I pull out a new wrap and a brand-new bag of marijuana before tossing the drawer to the floor with the intention of rolling a fatty that I'll smoke outside.

I put on a shirt and slip my feet into my sandals before returning outside with the rolled blunt tucked in the corner of my lips. The crisp early morning air enters my lungs, leaving a harsh, tightening sensation inside my chest that hurts terribly when I breathe. Nonetheless, I light the blunt and take a long drag, sucking in the smoke and holding it in for as long as I fucking can. As I exhale, my head feels like it’s floating, and my vision is distorted as I watch the smoke bellow into the air and disperse. The sound of footsteps approaching from behind me causes me to snap out of the weed fog, and I turn around curiously, regretting it when I see who's there. What is she doing out here, and where the fuck is Trig? I ask myself as I try to ignore her as she walks up to me and bravely takes a stance right beside me. Her hair is tangled and unkempt. Her neck is covered in dark bruises that look like hickeys. Her lips appear to have been kissed for a while in a manic manner because they are swollen and red. She exudes an enticing aroma of sex and arousal, which wafts up my nose and awakens my cock all over again with tiny shocks. I knew he fucked her. I came out here hoping for some fucking peace, but now that my little bird is here, my mind is racing and my anxiety is raging through me once more. I turn to leave with the intention of getting as far away from her as I can, but her soft, dejected voice causes me to stop in my tracks.

“Where are you going?”

“Inside. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Are you really pissed at me that I let your friend stay with me?” She sighs, lighting a cigarette as her eyes vigorously follow the blunt in my hand.

“You want a hit, little bird?” I ask, trying to change the topic.

“Sure. thanks, B.”

She accepts the blunt and places it between her lips with a grateful smile. She pushes out her perfect, svelte tits as I watch her breathe in the smoke deeply into her lungs. I know I have to look away, but I fucking can’t. Without her knowing it, she has me completely enthralled by everything she does and has me imprisoned by a spell. She sees me staring at her like a fucking creep and gives me the blunt back with a seductive grin on her shiny lips. If only she knew how long I've been fucking watching her or how much I fucking stare at her. I snatch the blunt from her and place it to my lips, chasing her saliva that's coated around the wrap. I hold back a groan as I take a breath and turn away from her, forcing her to look elsewhere. This shit right now shouldn’t be happening. We're far too close. This isn't how it's supposed to work. I muster the courage to leave her and, after one final glance into her saddened, heavy eyes and a forced half-smile, I depart, leaving her outside in the cold as the darkness engulfs her.

Harley

I have no idea why, but I constantly find myself trying to win "B's" approval, and the fact that he keeps ignoring me and walking away aggravates me. What have I ever done to him? How is it possible for someone to hate someone so much when they don't even know them? He fucking hates me, and I have no idea what I did to deserve it. I know it doesn't help that I let his friend stay with me after he was kicked out, but still. I finish my cigarette as he enters the building, unable to halt the flood of vivid ideas that are coming over me. Unexpectedly, my feet lead me in his direction, and I find myself chasing after him out of a burning desire to learn why he despises me so fucking much. I left Scotty asleep in my apartment. He nodded off into a deep sleep after we fucked and got high, allowing me to leave without waking him. Since Alec, I haven't let another man into my apartment, and the invasion of my personal space is haunting me and making me afraid to go back inside. I invited him in, so why am I feeling like this?

I huff and struggle to breathe through the cramps that the steep stairs have given my calves as I ascend them two at a time to catch up with B. He seems to be waiting for me or someone else to join him as I see him standing at the beginning of the hallway. When I finally come into view, he doesn't appear surprised to see me; in fact, he appears furious.

“What the fuck are you doin’ following me, little bird?”

“Why the fuck do you hate me so fucking much?” With my hands on my hips and my head cocked in defiance, I blurt out indignantly. He displays a startled expression in response to my sudden outburst and a sinisterly attractive smile.

“You want a drink?”

“What?” I bite back with confusion laced in my voice as he turns his back to me and walks down the hall, expecting me to follow him. With my hands hanging at my sides and my nervous hands trembling, I frantically pursue him to his apartment. Whoa, Harley! What are you doing? Having let random men into your apartment and now following another random man into his. Bitch, this isn't you. I disregard the reasonable voices in my head and listen to the insane ones that are yelling at me to chase after him, almost as if they want me to get into trouble. For all I know, he could be the fucking devil. But with a body like that and the features of an angel, it’s hard to imagine him being vile. Fuck, even the devil was once an angel...