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

Ch. 22: Want

WARNING: Explicit content ahead.

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident in Duff's room, and we had hardly spoken since. Which sucks, considering we shared a damn room.

Most nights were spent in complete and utter silence, and about five days after the incident, I started actually wearing clothes to bed. Even if he had seen my boobs, I still felt weird having any skin showing around him. It would give me goosebumps whenever he so much as glanced at my bare leg.

Luckily, tonight, the guys were out at the club. According to Axl, there was some big record producer there who had been dying to sign them and start on recording an album. If they did well tonight, they were going to be well on their way to getting famous.

I figured I'd stay home so I wouldn't distract Duff and ruin his mood. I didn't want to-in any way-hinder their chances of making it big. Besides, I had made enough money to pay this month's rent and I needed to drop it off at my dad's apartment and I was glad no one would be around to babysit me or try to stop me.

I shoved my wad of cash into an envelope and threw on my leather jacket. I scribbled out a quick note to let the guys know where I was if, by any chance, I wasn't home until later. I posted it onto the fridge before stumbling out the door.

The moon was hanging over the city streets, making the already lit up roads a little brighter. I strolled the familiar path towards my old apartment, ignoring those who reached out to me begging for change or a good time.

As I neared my destination, a strange sensation deep in my gut told me something was wrong. It made me unconsciously pick up my pace until I was all out sprinting to the front door.

As I reached the door knob, I tugged and it would not open. I fumbled in my jacket pockets for my keys until I found them and forced them into the key hole. When I went to turn the key, it wouldn't budge.

No. This can't be happening.

I pounded the door with my fists, twisting the key and jiggling the knob. Still, it refused to open.

Fuck.

I hurried over to the window and peeked into where our living room used to be. My heart dropped. There was nothing in there. No couch, no turned over coffee table, no beer bottles...just a new carpet to replace our old, stained one.

No. No. No. No!

I rushed down the stairs and began beating on our landlord's door. Our landlord, Harrison, opened the door after about five minutes of me kicking and punching it.

"What the fuck do you want?" He demanded, wrenching open the door and blowing cigar smoke in my face. I hated Harrison. He was a short, fat, balding man who looked like Danny DeVito's less talented brother. Not only that, but he had always tried to hit on me to get me to come into his apartment and drink with him.

"Where is my dad? What happened to all of our stuff?" I demanded. "I have the rent right here, now where is he?"

Harrison shrugged and flashed me a smile full of rotting teeth. "He left. Didn't he tell you?"

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under my feet and my head began to spin even worse than when Duff had kissed me. "W-what?"

"He's gone. 'Poof'. He left about two weeks ago. Said something about Vegas with some hooker," he gave me a wink. "He let me in on a threesome with her before they left, since he had no money to pay for some damages. Fine piece of ass she was...."

I shook my head furiously and ran my fingers through my hair.

He didn't just...He couldn't have...He can't take care of himself....what if he gets hurt? Or dies? What if I never see him again? I gulped as it sank in how horrible this situation was. As shitty as he was to me, he was the only family I had, and he was the only life I'd ever known. He was my father, and he'd abandoned me.