The Degenerates - Under Edit

t w e n t y

I screamed loudly throughout Trey's apartment as he poured whiskey over my cut, which was probably just about two inches long. It probably only started at one, but all my moving about kept tearing the skin along further, which explained my continuous merciless pain. It wasn't overly deep, couple centimetres or so.

My back pressed so hard against the surface of the bath that I was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow.

Trey let me catch my breath and I gripped his shoulder tightly as his other hand prepared to douse my leg again.

"Please," I uttered weakly, "no more."

Trey ignored me, and I watched his eyes close, wincing as I clawed his arm, wailing as the final douse was over.

He dabbed around the cut, much, much cleaner now, and after taking a bunch of anti-inflammatory's and compressing it hours ago, the swelling had significantly improved. It was near sunset now, and I had a bunch of missed calls from Sasha, and after several angry messages, one that said she's taking Lila to her dorm. I felt terrible leaving her, but I wouldn't be much help.

"I need to stitch it Neijla," Trey said quietly. "It won't heal on its own."

"Take me," I begged, "take me to the hospital,"

"It's too risky," he answered, "I can do it. But I need to know if you can bear through it."

"Why too risky?" I asked breathlessly.

"With a murder investigation? With two persons of interest?"

"I'm a person of interest?" I asked him.

"Well, I definitely am."

My back hurt, but I refused to reposition because of the unbearable pain, and the fact the I was stripped down to my underwear and I was already self-conscious enough in front of Trey. Terribly so.

He offered a towel for me to be covered, but I declined, knowing it was easiest to have a clear canvas. But that was before he mentioned he would be attempting some surgical procedure on me.

"Trey," I breathed, "stitch it. Please,"

His eyes bored into mine for permission, not believing my words totally. I didn't blame him, I wasn't convinced myself.

"I'm right here, the whole time." He told me.

He reached into his bathroom vanity, finding an elaborate, but basic surgical kit. I wondered why the hell he even owned one, and how many serious injuries he'd need it for; better yet, how many he had treated, and why.

Trey told me to brace, "This will hurt like a bitch,"

-

My eyes stung each time I blinked from my excessive crying earlier. What felt like absolute torture was now over, and I was under a blanket on Trey's lounge, holding a cup of vodka over ice to my chest.

I sipped, closing my eyes to let the burning liquid slide down my throat. But it was helping.

My knife wound was clean, stitched and ready to heal. Trey let me recover whilst he took my clothes and threw them in the wash, scrubbing the blood out.

I was woozy as I watched him tie the final stitch, and douse it again, dabbing carefully around his work. My voice gone, throat like sandpaper.

"How," I asked with a hoarse voice, "do you know how to do that?"

"Practise," was all he said, and I almost threw my glass at him, give him something else to stitch.

"Fucking answer me," I demanded, mostly overly emotional from an exhausting morning, and 4 different types of pain medications floating in my bloodstream.

Trey only smiled in response, and fell down on the lounge next to me, "How are you holding up?"

"I will be much better, if you answered my question."

He laughed, and then his face fell, looking out his window. "Theo and I, used to be in a gang."

I felt my eyes widen. I wasn't expecting him to answer with anything to do with Theo, but I was insanely anxious, yet curious for his past. And I hoped he'd give it to me.

"I was 16 when I met him. He was the older guy, the cool one, who gave the kids cigarettes and let them hang out with him after school in the car park. I never bothered with him, thought he was a tosser. Turns out I was correct," he said with a smile-less laugh.

"I got into a fight one day, down at the bar, and I was arrested for it. Someone bailed me out, and when I finally left, he was there, waiting for me."

"Why were you at a bar?" I asked him, enthralled in his story, "You were 16?"

A corner of his mouth lifted, "Sometimes the old fella's would get me a drink or two. It was the only thing that calmed me down, but it was also the one thing that riled me up the most."

I smiled at his sad answer, but nodded at him to continue.

"Theo said that I didn't owe him, unless, I partnered up with him, he wanted me as his sidekick. He had found a group of young guys, led by a leader, much like Theo but, Theo hated that he couldn't be in charge, like he was back in school."

Trey's eyes were focused on the floor, "I was having fun. At least, I thought I was having fun. I thought that breaking and entering, selling drugs, stealing cars, all that was fun. I started doing drugs with Theo in his garage, and we'd actively search for people to mess with. And the best part was, finding ones that weren't afraid of us."

"Of course," I said, in realization.

"And of course," he continued, giving me a small smile, "we'd come back with a few...injuries. One time, Theo got his eye socket split so bad, I couldn't stop the bleeding, and neither could he. A member of the gang, was a military drop out, so he taught me how to manage shit like that. How to splint a broken bone, bandage a wound properly, stitch something. We used to be the ones to fucking fix everyone when something happened."

"As we got older, Theo was more inclined to seek the thrill in bigger crimes. He's a mastermind, never caught. Things were becoming dangerous. We ended up at this shack, it was pitch black. He acted like it was random, but I knew he was up to something, but he denied it. We broke in, and I went to look for easy disposables, to sell off, but he shoved me into a room and starting beating this fellow and I followed his lead."

I tipped my cup back as vodka trickled down my throat, needing a refill. Goosebumps raised on my skin and I rubbed my arms to keep warm.

"But I stopped because Theo started saying shit, not antagonistic shit like we would on the street, like real direct shit. He knew what he was doing, and who this was. I immediately backed out, leaving Theo on his own. He shouted at me, told me to get back in and finish the job, but I couldn't."

"A day later, I met up in our usual spot, and our ringleader, Dean, never showed."

I sucked in a breath, my eyes wide.

"I told Theo I was done, but I'm never really done, not with Theo."

I swallowed my guilt, from meeting up with Theo yesterday, and now Trey had to pick up the pieces from my mistake, again. I remembered Theo warning me not to tell. Let's see if he keeps his promises too.

"I want to tell you I'll stay away from him, but Trey, you said neither of you know who did this, maybe you need each other."

"No,"

"For now, all hands on deck." I said, "There's someone that you do not know running around shooting people. Theo doesn't either. That's concerning; maybe you can work together?"

"Did you not hear any of what I just told you about him?"

"Exactly Trey," I told him, "Together, you'd made one hell of a threat against, whoever this is. You need each other, and fuck, I need you."

Trey's face softened, and I swore mentally, I wasn't supposed to slip that one out.

"I will do, whatever it takes, to keep you safe," Trey uttered softly.

"Then we need to reassess. And this time, I want in."