Jack Wilder X Reader - Two of Hearts

Disgusting

~JACK'S P.O.V.~

The house was cleaner than I expected it to be, but still pretty filthy. There was a large, open living room that connected to a hallway, 2 other rooms, and the kitchen. The living room was hardwood floor that was damaged with cracks and covered with debris, with beige walls that were covered in stains and weirdly placed pictures, with a brown rug, some brown furniture that had blackened spots and liquid stains, a buffet, and a table with a lamp. It had a pungent odor of something I couldn't identify, nor did I want to.

"Good Lord," I whispered.

"The sad thing is I've seen this house in worse condition," (Y/N) replied. She walked up to one of the picture frames, and laughed. 

"What?"

She took the picture frame off the wall, revealing a hole in the wall. "My dad was really drunk at the time."

I smiled. She started walking through one of the doors, and I followed. The room she walked into was a bedroom, probably her dad's. There were about 50 beer bottles and countless cigarette butts laying around, on top of dressers, on the nightstand, and overflowing the trash bin. It smelled like a mixture of mold and stale beer.

Disgusting.

"Just a warning, if you see any grocery store plastic bags, don't open them," she advised. "And don't open that closet door."

"Duly noted. What's in the closet?"

"Let's put it this way, imagine some of the devices used in 50 Shades of Grey, and things single people would buy to fondle themselves with."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, not going near there."

She walked through the room, and looked around. She pointed at the far corner. "He set that corner on fire once. Don't know how, but he did."

I looked around, and saw a small box on top of the dresser. "What's that?" I asked, walking over to it. The box was about a foot long, 6 inches wide, and 8 inches tall. It was covered in hundreds of stripes of different woods.

"I don't know, let's find out." She came up to me, and picked up the box. She immediately had an annoyed look on her face. "I know what it is. It's a Japanese puzzle box."

"Can you figure it out?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, as she started pulling and pushing on sections. After a minute or so, she pulled out a small, wooden stick, and the lid popped off. 

"What's in it?" I asked.

She reached inside, and pulled out a small cigar box, a small pistol, some ammo, and a fat wad of cash, some of the corners were stained red. 

I picked up the money. "Is this real?"

She nodded. "He'd win it in poker."

"Is that-"

"Yes, it is blood."

"Disgusting," I muttered, as I set it back down on the dresser. She opened the cigar box, to reveal about 10 illegal cigars. 

She grabbed the stuff, and put it back in the box, relocking it. "C'mon."

I followed her back outside to the kitchen, or what was left of it. Most of the cupboards were demolished, and the counter had fallen to the ground, probably because the cabinets underneath had been set ablaze, and there was charcoal and ashes on the wood floor, along with blackened handles.

"Those cupboards were smashed when my dad got so drunk, he thought they were coming after him. That was about 6 months before I ran away. The cabinets were burned when my mom drunkenly spilled vodka all over the floor, and the vodka was set on fire and it burned the kitchen down. That was when my brother was still around," (Y/N) explained.