Addiction| 18+

2|Brother?

Hayley

"When is she gonna wake up? We've been watching her for like seven hours," a guy mutters.

"She hit the ground pretty hard. Just give it a little longer," another one says.

"Damn," someone behind them laughs. "She must've really hit her head."

Their laughter echoes in my ears, loud and annoying.

Yeah... I bet none of you have ever had a panic attack before.

Everything feels heavy—my head, my body, even my eyelids. My throat is dry, and there's this weird, crawling feeling under my skin that makes me want to rip it off.

I know that feeling.

I need pills.

My fingers twitch slightly where they rest against the floor, and panic starts creeping up my chest.

Just one. I just need one.

The laughter suddenly stops when I hear a door open.

"Stop messing around and do your jobs!"

My stomach drops instantly.

I know that voice. Warren.

I haven't heard it in years, but I'd recognize it anywhere.

"When is my sister gonna wake up? It's been fucking hours," he says, annoyed.

The room goes dead silent.

"Try to wake her up. I don't have all day."

"I can try," one of the guys says.

My heart starts racing. Footsteps get closer, slow and heavy, until I can literally feel someone standing over me. Then I smell it—vodka and cigarettes.

It makes me sick.

Before I can even think, my body reacts. I shove forward and sit up fast, gasping for air like I've been underwater.

My vision is blurry for a second, but when it clears, I see them.

Six guards, all dressed the same—black suits, tattoos, serious faces. And then there's him.

Warren.

He doesn't look surprised. Or happy. He just looks... cold. He's changed. A lot.

He's taller than I remember, broader too. His shoulders fill out his suit perfectly, and everything about him looks sharp—his jaw, his posture, even the way he stands. His dark hair is slicked back, and his face is harder now, like whatever life he's lived carved all the softness out of him.

And his eyes. They're the same as our dad's.

Dark. Empty. Looking at me like I'm nothing.

I can't breathe.

"Everyone out," he says without taking his eyes off me. "I want to talk to my sister alone."

The guards leave immediately, like they're scared of him or something. The door shuts behind them, and suddenly it's just us.

I feel like I'm going to throw up. My hands start shaking, and I quickly look down at the floor so I don't have to look at him.

I need something. I need something right now.

"Stop crying," he says. "You're not a fucking baby."

I didn't even realize I was crying. Tears drop onto the floor, and I try to wipe them away, but my hands won't stop shaking.