Book 2: Nothing Seems to Please Me (Duff McKagan FanFic)

Ch. 11: Here Goes Nothin'

Duff's bed was merely a mattress on the floor off in the corner of his bedroom. When I had stripped down into nothing but a t-shirt, I climbed into bed and tugged the blankets over me. I lay on my side and watched with amusement as Duff struggled to get comfortable on the floor.

"Do you need any extra pillows?" I asked.

"No."

He tossed and turned a few more times before finally settling on the position of lying on his back. I gazed down at him, taking in his features from under the street light glow that spilled in through the window.

His wavy blond hair was fanned out around his head and his eye brows were furrowed as though he were concentrating very hard on the ceiling above him. He had removed his shirt so I could see his chest poking out from under the covers. I gripped my pillow in frustration.

I hated to admit it, but he was really hot. under different circumstances, I might have given into his advances. Why did he have to be such a douche? Why did I have to be in such a huge mess?

"You okay?" He was giving me a strange look and I realized I was still strangling my pillow.

"Oh. Yeah. I'm just fluffing up my pillow," I lied, beginning to knead it.

"Okay...?"

He looked back up at the ceiling and I released my pillow, resting my head back onto it. Maybe he was a jerk, but at least he wasn't trying to hit on me right now. Not to mention, he seemed to be genuinely concerned about my bumps and bruises. I dared to wonder if maybe he really did care about me and not just my ass?

"Hey, Duff?" My voice was tiny in the silence that engulfed us.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me stay over," I whispered.

"No problem."

There was more silence after that and I turned to lie on my back. It was there that I could feel all of my secrets pressing down on my chest, threatening to suffocate me. I had never told anybody about my personal life. Partially because most people around here already knew the part about my dad being a raging alcoholic from seeing him at the bars so often, but mostly because I had never had a friend before. The closest I had to a friend was Tiny, and even he wasn't enough to satisfy the loneliness that had punched a hole straight through my heart.

I glanced down at Duff. Maybe he was right. I had a problem with letting people in, and maybe it was time I took a chance on trust.

I hesitated for a moment. His eyes were shut and he seemed to be dozing off. I prayed he would either listen and be supportive, or he'd be too tired to remember anything I was saying.

Here goes nothin'.

"My dad did this to me," I let the words fall from my tongue as quickly as possible. I saw his eyes flicker open at the sound of my voice. I continued on. There was no turning back now. "My dad hits me sometimes. He's an alcoholic and, when I stayed the night with you guys, he didn't get any beer from me so he was going through withdrawals. He hit me for not being there to help him."

There was no reply from Duff, and I saw that he was simply staring back up at the ceiling, a hard look on his face.

"I'll kick his ass," Duff growled.

"What?"

"I'll kill the mother fucker if he touches you again," Duff snarled, louder this time.

He sat up and turned to me, his eyes burning with rage. "Why didn't you kick his sorry ass? You know you could. I've seen how tough you are."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple, Duff."

"Oh, so you can beat up everybody else but the guy that actually hits you?"

"I knew it," I muttered, turning towards the wall and choking back tears. "I knew I shouldn't have told you shit."

Silent tears began to pool down my face and I tried my hardest to keep my sniffling to a minimum, hoping Duff would think I just had a runny nose or something. It didn't work.

The bed creaked under Duff's weight as he slipped into bed with me and began to hold me. I pushed and shoved, sobbing, but he held me down and pulled me closer to him. Eventually, I just relaxed and allowed myself to cry into his bare chest, kind of feeling bad for getting him all wet with tears, but also not really caring.

"Shhhh..." He breathed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just...I don't want to see you hurt. I know you can defend yourself and I just don't understand why you would let him do this to you."

I just sniffed in response and latched onto him tighter. He ran his fingers through my hair and absentmindedly twirled my dreads between his fingers. Despite how I usually felt about Duff, I felt safe in his arms. I could tell that this embrace wasn't just him trying to wiggle his way into my pants. Tonight, he was being genuine.

"Don't worry, Max," he cooed. "I'll take care of you. If he hits you again, well, God help that son of a bitch."