Dirty Little Secret| Eddie Munson x Reader

Hold Me Now

*CW for depictions of a panic attack and mentions of drug use and alcoholism.*

Y/N POV
Friday, September 6, 1985.

"Thanks for the ride, I'll see you tomorrow." I wave to Steve before walking up to my door and entering.

"Hey, honey," My dad greeted me in the living room as I came in, standing up from the recliner. He was off work and was relaxing at home for the night. "How was work?"

"Great," I smiled at him. Work was incredible actually, aside from Eddie coming in. It felt amazing to finally spend time with Steve again, joking around just like we used to. Dad smiles at my answer before shifting his stance awkwardly. Something was up with him. "What's wrong?"

"Listen, honey," Dad started carefully. "Your mother called."

My stomach dropped. I hadn't spoken to my mother since she left for  San Francisco and I didn't anticipate speaking to her ever again. I planned to go the rest of my life without ever thinking of that woman again because of what she did to me, because of what she did to Dad. I crossed my arms and said nothing.

"Y/n," Dad sighed, rubbing his face. "She really wants to talk to you."

"I don't care." I said coldly. It made my blood boil that he was still vouching for that vile woman, even after everything she put him through. She ruined our lives. She left us for fucks sake. Dad got into drinking because of her. We lost everything because of her selfishness. No way in hell was I going to speak to her. Not in a million years.

"Please," My dad begged. Something about the look on his face told me that he knew something I didn't, and that alarmed me. I sighed and stormed into the kitchen. I aggressively flipped through Dad's contact book on the counter before landing on her number and dialing it into the phone on the wall. I squeezed my eyes closed and prayed to anyone who would listen that she wouldn't pick up.

"Hello?" I heard my mother ask over the phone. I gripped the phone tightly, feeling my body go cold at the sound of her voice. "Hellooo?"

"It's me." I managed to get out, my throat feeling tight.

"Oh my goodness, y/n? Is it really you?" My mother gushed over the phone. "Oh, pumpkin, it's been so long. How are you?"

"Did you need something?" I asked flatly, not wanting any part of her kissing up to me. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall next to the receiver. I was beginning to feel faint; her sickly sweet fakeness juxtaposed with the circumstances was giving me whiplash. I felt her take a deep breath on her end.

"Honey," She cooed excitedly. "Mark and I are getting married!"

I slammed the phone down on the receiver with so much force that it fell out of the wall and onto the floor with a loud clang. I stumbled back, gripping a chair at the kitchen table to steady myself. The room began to feel hot.

"Y/n, what did she say?" My dad called from the living room. I snapped out of my trance and ran up the stairs, hearing my dad call my name to me again as I slammed my bedroom door shut. I pressed my back up against the door, sliding down it as I broke down sobbing into my hands. The walls felt like they were closing in on me and I was starting to feel suffocated. I felt a hurricane beginning to form in my chest.

"Y/n, are you okay?" My dad called through my door.

"I need to be alone," I shakily replied, rubbing my eyes roughly, before turning and reaching up to lock my door. My mind was moving too fast and I couldn't catch my breath. I needed to get out of here. Fast. Something under my bed caught my eye as I sat back onto my butt. My biscuit tin. I crawled slowly over to my bed as I tried to steady my breathing. I slid the tin out from under the bed and opened it, the sweet smell of weed hitting my nostrils. I looked down at my weed stash that I had accumulated while living in California, grabbing a baggie that contained a single pre-roll.