Greed Fischer (BXB)

Chapter 22

TW: REFERENCES TO SEXUAL ABUSE AND VIOLENCE

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Corrigan was empty as I skated through, Montero played loudly through my earphones and I lifted a cigarette to my mouth with shaky hands.

My skateboard had been recovered through means that I was not proud of – said means involved stealing a key from a certain person's wallet to a specific cupboard. As I said, not my proudest moment.

The sky was grey above me and the soft wind from the river blew across my face and ruffled my hair as I picked up speed.

I never had a taste for smoking, but there was something so calming about each inhale. It tasted bad, but each time the smoke pushed back up my lungs, I felt cool – like I could forget all about Greed.

My stomach lurched at the thought of him, at the thought of last night. I was sore in places I didn't want to think about, had disappointed my father too many times, and had to kill the man that I was in love with...I mean – not. In the past few hours, I had managed to get caught up in Greed, only for jarring reality to come back knocking on my door.

LIFE AFTER SALEM played in my ears as my skateboard clattered to the ground. Underneath me, dark grey waves smashed over each other and crashed along the cement beams of the bridge with white spray.

I wondered why I was standing here...beside the very ledge where this nightmare started. A deep, shuddering breath escaped my lungs as I leaned against the railing. I wondered how it felt to drown. I imagined him suffocating, his lungs burning, the inescapable death dragging him down, his eyes wide, searching the inky blackness.

I had been skating for almost an hour already, my father would be getting up soon, maybe Greed would realise that I wasn't asleep beside him, but only because I was the only person that he had...not because he loved me.

It took me twenty more minutes before I was skating down my street, LOST IN THE CITADEL playing loudly through my earphones, tired and anticipating the moment I could sink into my mattress. Our street was quiet and the stillness made it easier to hear the roll of my skateboard. Everything seemed preserved in the morning light, the grass neatly trimmed and wet with morning dew, curtains drawn closed and cars parked on each side.

Then I saw my father's car in the driveway and a police car blocking it off.

Fuck!

I stumbled from my skateboard and slipped it into my hand as I raced up the steps to my house. My shoe laces whipped around and I tried my hardest not to trip.

The door to my house was open and whoever was talking stopped as soon as I slammed into the doorway and yanked the screen door open.

"H-He's not here!" I leant against the wall to catch my breath as I rolled my skateboard into the shoe pile.

Satan's dark, cold brown eyes bore into my soul, gleaming with maliciousness as a sinister smirk tugged at the edges of his lips. A cold feeling dripped over my ribs, before I forgot how to breath. Both of their heads turned to look at me and I swallowed down the dread that bubbled in my stomach as my father's hard eyes narrowed on my skateboard...

Greed's father was in his police uniform. My eyes dropped to the gun on his right hip, the taser on the other. He looked so tall, like he was looming above me, staring down at me with that psychotic glint in his eyes again.

"He's not here, Officer." I pressed again as I crossed my suddenly weak arms tight over my chest, "you're wasting your time..."

"Iniko." My father glared down at me. I avoided his stare.