Sinful Addiction

Part 25 - Idiot Would Be Putting It Nicely

Brushing off some random guy who tried to use the "I know the owner" line on her, Alexia notices August once again, arguing with Amar as he tries to get back into the VIP section. Waving her hand to signal Amar to let him through, he does.

"Thanks, Amar," Alexia says. She's on August's heels as he starts up the staircase.

August finally finds his jacket right where he left it at the bar. Just as he shrugs it on, Alexia snakes her hand into his pocket from behind. Snatching his keys, making him wince slightly when she bumps his bruised ribcage.

"What the fu—" Spinning around to find Alexia behind him, glaring through her thick lashes. "Oh," he sighs. "What are you doing, Doll?"

"Don't "Doll" me. You weren't planning on driving, were you? You're drunk and probably high. Odds are you shouldn't have driven here in the first place.

"N—no... I..."

"That's what I thought. You aren't thinking clearly because not only could you wreck your irreplaceable car, but you could kill someone, yourself, or both in the process. Grab your shit. I'm driving you home." She drops the key to the multi-million dollar car in her pocket as she starts walking away.

It takes August a moment to process and then catch up to her but he catches the last bit of her conversation with the Valet boy.

"You got a car?" he asks trying to sneak his hand around her waist. In a momentary instance of weakness, she lets it happen but then she swipes it away saying, "Don't mistake this for something it's not. I'm taking you home because you're a mess not 'cause we're gonna fuck and no, I got a bike."

August's stomach churns thinking about how dangerous it is for her to be riding a motorcycle especially when the cold, wet, and icy weather is in full force. On the other hand, the image of her riding one last October makes a heat spread through every twist and turn of his veins.

Pulling into August's garage, Alexia hits the button to raise the elevator. Looking over, August is passed out, his head resting against the door until she pulls it open and it falls jolting him awake. "Doll?" he asks looking up at her like she's his guardian angel. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking after your intoxicated ass." She wraps his arm over her shoulders, "Up we go." She lifts him from his seat. "Come on, work with me here." She says as his six foot nine body envelopes her. August winces when her shoulder drives directly into his ribs but he welcomes the pain as he savors every inch of her touch.

"I barely even touched you, ya big baby." She says, annoyed as they walk down the hallway to his bedroom.

"I don't get how you do it." He mumbles as she kicks the door open. His room just as big of a mess as the rest of his house. Maybe even worse.

"How I do what?" she grunts, dropping him on the bed.

"How you could have loved someone as fucked up as me. Even if it was short-lived." He may have been feeding every addiction he has ever had for the last few months but there is one craving that has gone unfulfilled and no amount of money would help him get his hands on it.

Her.

    "August, the self-pity act is getting really old." Insecurities are perfectly okay, and she is more than willing to actually sit down and speak with him about why she is so mad but he hasn't been sober for months so instead of possibly working things out and having gone to the party together they ended up running into each other tonight and here they are.

The way August is making it about himself is bad enough but the way that she has to watch him drink and snort himself into a shell of himself is killing her at the same time. Plus, the constant voice in the back of her mind reminding her just how easy it would be to walk into that bathroom where she knows he has a line already cut. The sensation of all of her worries, pain, and anger melting away as a sense of peace washes over her—Alexia's eyes drift to the door before she snaps them back to August.