Author’s Note: Chapter 2 is here! As a warning, this chapter includes dark themes, strong language, angst and other possibly triggering subjects. Please read at your own risk. - V. 💜
Tag Team: @peakyrogers @marvelmusing @persephonescottage @lilisangel
“What?” I backed away from Eric, still processing what the hell he just said. Drew and even some of these guards looked puzzled, knowing damn-well that I had never met my father to begin with.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what I know.” Eric lifted both hands in surrender, but I’d changed my mind and wouldn’t let him leave until we learned more. So much more.
“What else do you know?” I lowered my voice and folded both arms, watching Drew sit down in another chair found here in the room.
“Last I checked, your father’s in prison now because of other shit, but the public still doesn’t know about his connection to Underwood’s murder.” Eric gestured, explaining more.
“Go on.” Despite this storm of emotions, anger had mostly reached my mind. “Tell me as much as you know.”
“Sorry, man. That’s all I’ve got for now. Going into more detail risks too much privacy for inmates.” Eric shook his head.
“All right. Just know something: If you turn your back on helping me, it’s not gonna end well.” I stepped closer, sending out this threat. “Now get out.”
“Fine. I’ll call you.” Speaking up for his last time tonight, Eric walked out and slammed the door behind him to depart immediately.
“Shit!” I shouted, already pacing and completely ignoring everyone else who stood in the room with me, including Drew for once.
“Cy…” Drew mumbled behind me.
“You and the fellas can go, man.” I answered without facing him.
“Come on. Everybody out and back on watch.” Behind me, Drew aimed for everyone else to walk out to leave me alone.
_____
“Cy, you good?” A few minutes before closing, Drew ended up knocking on the door again.
“How the fuck is this possible?” I rubbed down my face, still pissed off because of what we just learned from Eric.
“Remember those news reports from back in the day? That gunman wasn’t out in the open and we never saw pictures of an actual face. Could’ve been anyone, so your father might’ve been slick enough to get away with it.” Drew cut on the brightest service lights, sending us into reality rather than partying like before.
“Damn, you’re right. We could search for him now, but I don’t even know his name. Mom raised me alone, remember?” I answered, trying not to remember how lonely life was in the house if I wasn’t already hanging out with Drew as a kid.
“You two weren’t alone. We invited you around all the time.” Drew mentioned his family and tried to smile. His own parents were still happily married now and even his siblings lived all over the place.
“I know.” I sniffled without tears, choosing to look away from him again.
“I won’t let you do this by yourself, man. When have I ever let you down?” Drew patted my shoulder and I soon turned to face him out of respect.
“Never. Now what?” I said, knowing that it was true.
“I can make a few more calls if you want to start now.” Drew offered his advice to help without needing Eric to intervene right away.
“Not until next week. A lot happened tonight, so let’s rest up and start everything on a blank slate. Enjoy your weekend, D.” I really wanted to slow down and try to sleep on it. Too many questions still raced in my head.
“All right. You know how to find me.” Drew opened and closed the door, leaving as quickly as he had walked through to help me deal with Eric.
_____
Coming back to this apartment alone was probably the worst part. Not that actually I’d want more people to risk their lives around me, but even silence in the living room felt strange. Solitude was one thing, but this was another monster altogether.
No amount of material shit eased what I felt when the lights went down. It was a miracle to even sit here in one piece, but if I wasn’t entirely pissed off, my thoughts creeped right through. I was soon haunted with memories.
_____
I tossed and turned in bed, hardly able to stop thinking of how much Mom struggled to raise while I grew up years ago.
Of course, Drew and his family might have helped Mom and me time and time again, but nothing changed the fact that my father was never there. Even before his supposed lockup, he was never around and not once cared about us.
To make matters worse, I didn’t even know what he looked like.
Mom kept green eyes and dark hair because of my grandmother, but was I blond because of Dad? What did his voice even sound like? What was the dream before death crossed his mind?
But most of all: why did this man give up on me, his own son?
____
Morning reached the blinds before I could have actually fallen asleep. There was no other choice but for me to keep moving, even if it was something as simple as getting out of bed now.
Make the bed. Brush my teeth. Pick out clothes. Try to find breakfast here or visit a coffee shop in an effort to leave this place.
Take one day at a time.
Just when I planned to walk out for groceries, my cell phone buzzed out of nowhere. It was Drew sending out a text message:
DREW: You’re not gonna believe who just walked into the coffee shop.
CYRUS: Who, Santa Claus? While texting him back, I tried my best to joke around as a sign for Drew that things felt somewhat better than last night.
DREW: Better. Drew handed out another joke to upgrade our guesses.
CYRUS: If they’re better than Santa, tell me. Who is it? I quickly rolled my eyes, but answered back with a question this time around.
DREW: Bianca.
Once Drew mentioned that name, her name, I almost dropped my phone.
Good morning. Wondering where Davey might have put my body- the dead one. He told me he doesn't want to eat me again. Probably because I fucked up and got scared and started crying when he bit me. I'm an eternal failure. How are you guys?
