Hell Has A New Name

10

The next time he woke up it was almost noon, he still hadn't heard from Amber. He grabbed his phone, rolling onto his back he decided to message her first. Everything he could think of sounded stupid, he finally just went with a generic greeting.
Hey! You surviving your hangover?

He sat the phone down not expecting a quick reply. He needed to rent the room for another night. This was his last day in Miami. He could go anywhere, he could do anything, the thought of that was more terrifying than freeing.

Sometimes he hated how his brain was on constant over drive. His thoughts were spiraling around, planning for the worst. He needed to leave this place before something bad happened, before he fucked everything up. He decided then, he wouldn't renew his room, he'd just pack his shit, take a shower, and head out.

The fog billowed around the room, making it hard to breathe. He wrapped a towel around him waist and opened the door letting the steam out. He liked these moments when he could just be, who ever he wanted to be when he was alone. It was a side of himself the guys had never gotten to know. He turned his music up playing from his phone, he sang along loudly, not really giving a damn about the neighbors. What were they going to say? The neighbor is singing badly. Could be worse, he could be fucking someone, he always was vocal. Well until Stockton, but he shook that thought away.

He kept wiping fog from the mirror as he cleaned up his mustache. When he finished the drawn out endeavor he walked out of the bathroom, dancing like an idiot. Practicing what he considered his best stripper move he shimmed with his back to the bed pretending he had an audience, he popped the towel open and threw it onto the bed.

"Well that was more than I bargained for!" Amber squealed.
Juice froze for a half a second at the voice, his mind not registering who it was. He grabbed his gun from the dresser spinning around he had it trained on her skin frame sitting on his bed. He was fast, like he used to be, he never even slowed down to think about what he was doing, acting purely on instinct. Far as he was concerned she was with the club, with Tully, worse the feds. The barrel of the gun was pressed against her skull before she could process what was happening.

He heard her sobs, breaking through his panicked internal dialogue. His mind he was rationalizing that everything was okay but he couldn't make his body move. His heart was pounding, he couldn't see the hotel room, he instead heard the sounds of rusty pipes. He smelled cement and blood, the rust of the boiler, he heard the invisible voices of the Chinese surrounding him, Amber was no longer Amber, she was Lin and be damned if he let them hurt him again.

"Please Micheal! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. The front desk let me in, I'm so sorry. Please, put the gun down. Please." She pleaded with her eyes closed.

"Shut up Lin! I'm not going to die down here, this time I'm prepared." He mumbled, incoherently. She couldn't make out everything he had said, but she got enough to understand despite her fear that he was definitely suffering from PTSD. He brother came home from his time over seas in the Air Force that way, he still hated the Fourth of July.

He held his breath, he couldn't speak anymore. He knew if he spoke again he'd call for Tully, for him to save him, to come get him. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to be here. The voices in his head were driving him crazy. Tully patched him back together after his last tune up, he didn't think he'd survive another one. The fact that his mind immediately went to Tully for comfort made his stomach twist in a painful wave of nausea.

He never lowered the gun, his hand shook, he took a deep breath. His rational brain telling him it wasn't Lin, his panicked brain telling him he was in the basement of the prison and he was going to die. Her voice slowly started to bleed through the chaos.

"Micheal! Please! It's Amber! I'm not going to hurt you. I'd never hurt you. I don't know what's going on, I don't know where you are. But I'm here, I want to help you. Please God just put the gun down!" She was screaming hoarsely in panic.

He felt panicked, the more he heard her voice, he knew he had fucked up, just like he knew he would fuck up. Now he'd owe her an explanation, she'd never forgive him. She'd never want to see him again of course. What if she told on him, the cops would be looking for him. She had that picture on her phone, the panicked voice now started rallying against her. Fuck! This was too out of control now, he didn't know what to do.

He wiped his eyes with one hand, realizing he had been crying. She was not begging any more, just shallowly breathing with her eyes closed. She looked almost like she'd accepted what was coming, like she was at peace with it. That ripped his gut into, he'd been ready, at peace. Tully took that away from him, why did Tully always have to win?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Amber." He sobbed with her as he dropped the gun from her head. He disengaged it, replaced the safety and placed it on the dresser.
"You should go. I'm so sorry." He turned, embarrassed, hurt, furious with himself. He realized he was completely naked, making matters so much worse. Who knew what she thought he was going to do.

"It's okay Micheal, it's okay. I shouldn't have let myself in. I'll wait for you in the lobby, if you come down I'll listen to whatever you have to say. If you don't come down, I understand this is goodbye. I hope you get the help you need, whatever you're running from will catch you if you don't. It caught my brother, he put that bullet into his own skull. You deserve better than that. Fifteen minutes, I'll wait fifteen minutes." She closes the door behind her, her insides were shaking uncontrollably. She didn't expect to walk out of the room alive, here she was, still breathing.

She had watched as her brother pulled the trigger, somewhere inside of her she knew it wasn't her fault. Micheals problems weren't hers to fix, but she couldn't help but feel like she needed to help him. She couldn't help her brother, maybe she could at least help him.

Juice sank down onto the bed, mind reeling over what the fuck he'd just done. He was loosing his mind, absolutely loosing his mind. He figured if she wanted an explanation he at least owed her that much, he just almost killed her and she agreed to talk to him. He didn't know if he was brave enough to face her.