Edge of Disaster

EDGE

OF

DISASTER

A.M. HARGROVE

Copyright © 2012 A.M. Hargrove

All Rights Reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system without the prior written permission of the Author. You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the rights and hard work of this Author.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the Author’s overactive imagination. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

This one snuck up on me…literally. The idea popped into my head and drove me crazy until I wrote the story. I had to put reEmergent (Book 4 of the Guardians of Vesturon) on hold until I finished this book. Sorry Guardians fans, but I knew if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be getting the best of Xarrid and Saylan. I promise, their story will be coming soon.

Thank you Terri Thomas, my great friend who the character in the book, Terri, was named for, and who guided me along with this story. You can find her at
www.mybookboyfriend.blogspot.com
.  She’s one of the very few who even knew of Edge’s existence.

Thank you Misty Provencher for telling me it could be done and listening to me rant about all the other stuff. You can find Misty and her amazing books at
www.mistypro.blogspot.com
.

Lastly, thank you Jennifer Nunez. I don’t have enough space here to write what I’d really like to, so I’ll just say how fabulous I think you are and stop at that. For those of you who don’t know, she’s my editor.

And for all the members of the BGC out there, now you know why I was MIA for the last month…Pearce was taking up most of my time!

All the characters in this book are fictitious. While the Middleton name does exist in Charleston, the characters in this book bearing that name are strictly a part of my imagination.

I would like to acknowledge, however, the amazing artist, Laurie Meyer. She is a real person and the most talented artist around and I’m lucky to call her my friend. You can find her beautiful work at galleries in and around Charleston as well as at
www.lauriemayer.com
. And yes, she does travel to Italy and paint beautiful scenes of Tuscany and other places she’s visited. If you haven’t checked out her website, go do it now. I can’t say enough about her work. By the way, she’s funny as hell too! I miss you Laurie!

For Henry Pearce Hargrove, whom I neglected a bit (well, maybe a lot) while writing this.

EDGE OF DISASTER

CHAPTER ONE

The relentless hammering in my skull woke me from my sleep.  Why wouldn’t my head stop hurting? Why, oh why?  I kept asking myself that question when I knew damned good and well the answer.  I groaned and tried to pry my eyes open, but they must’ve been super-glued shut.  I knew what would happen next, but I prayed anyway that it wouldn’t.  But, bam, there it was, just as I expected.  That nasty churning in my stomach.  I could feel the bile winding its way up my esophagus.  I scrambled around, attempting to untangle myself from the sheets so I could get to the bathroom before I made a mess.

I finally succeeded in opening my eyes, but I immediately wished I hadn’t. What greeted me made that churning turn into a volcano of epic proportions.  I was sandwiched between Beavis and Butthead...like the bologna between two pieces of bread. I stumbled out of the bed and hunted a bathroom because I had no clue where it was.

Luckily, it wasn’t too far off so I made it just in time for the morning eruption of nastiness.  I finally finished and then used the commode for what it was originally intended.  Then I staggered to the sink to wash my face and rinse my mouth. As luck would have it, I spied a tube a toothpaste, so I squeezed a glob onto my finger and hastily “brushed” my teeth.  I glanced in the mirror and my reflection almost made me hurl again.  Mascara was smeared across my cheeks and my lashes were clumped together with it.  No damn wonder I couldn’t open my eyes. I looked like I’d been rode hard and put up wet...well, I’m pretty sure I had.  From the scene that greeted me in the bedroom, no telling what had happened last night.  My body trembled as I tried to piece the puzzle together, but that roiling in my gut started again so I had to think about something else for the moment.  I needed to get the hell out of wherever I was.

I cracked open the bathroom door and peeked out.  When I was confident that Beavis and Butthead were still crashed out, I tiptoed into the bedroom in search of my clothes. No luck, so I headed into the living room.  Where the hell was I?  I hadn’t been here before that I could recall.  That was probably a good thing. It would save me tons of embarrassment later on.  At least I’d never have to run into either of them and act like I knew them.

I finally found my clothes.  My sequined halter top and mini skirt looked like hooker attire in the morning hours.  Wouldn’t Mom be proud of me now?  Gawd, what the hell was I thinking last night?

Get real Alexia! You know exactly why you wore that outfit.

It was no use denying the truth of my inner conscience.  It was the only thing that kept me going sometimes.  Like now, I guess.  Geez, how the hell was I supposed to go home wearing this get up? My shaking increased, along with the nausea again.  I deserved every bit of it too.  I looked around for my purse as I slipped into my “ho” outfit.  It was then I noticed all the remnants of our partying from last night...or maybe I should say this morning.  A tray with a razor blade, a short straw and a dusting of coke was all that was left.  I felt the bitterness fill my mouth as I shook my head.  I turned away, and resumed the hunt for my purse and shoes.  Grabbing them, I made a beeline for the door and exited the place.

I was in a cutesy neighborhood, but didn’t know where.  Where the hell was my car? Did I even drive here? My car wasn’t in the street so I guess I rode with Beavis and Butthead. Shit, every time I thought of them I wanted to hurl. It finally dawned on me that I had walked to the club last night and left my car at home.

I yanked my phone out of my purse and asked Siri to tell me where I was.  In that stupid voice of hers, she told me I was off of Mathis Ferry Road in Mount Pleasant.  Great! How the hell was I going to get back to downtown Charleston?

I hit Terri’s number and I heard, “Uh huh?”

“I need help.  You gotta pick me up.” My voice was edged with desperation.

Her answer came in at full on alert. “Shit Lex.  What’d ya do now?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here, but please hurry.”

“Where are you?” she huffed.

“In Mount Pleasant.  Off Mathis Ferry.”

“Shit! It’s only 8:30!”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“On my way.  You owe me.”

“I know.  Love you Terr.”

“Yeah. I know.”

I hid behind the bushes, hoping the neighbors didn’t think I was some sort of perv stalker.  Or even worse, hoping that Beavis or Butthead, or Barney or Fred, or whoever the hell they were didn’t walk outside for the Saturday morning Post and Courier that was sitting at the curb. 

Shit! When was I going to straighten my act up?

Twenty minutes later, Terri pulled up and I hopped in her car. I let go of a long breath and rubbed my arms up and down trying to dispel the chill, even though it was already over eighty degrees outside.

“I won’t say a word other than this shit has got to stop.  You’re going to end up dead one day.” Her tone was harsh.

“I know.  I don’t know what gets into me.”

“Come on Lex.  Get real with yourself.  You know what’s going on or do I need to spell it out for you?”

I just sat there, huddled in the seat, feeling like a tired old whore.  “No,” I finally answered.

“Then when are you gonna do something about it?”

I shook my head, not wanting to answer her.  There really wasn’t any point.  Then came the big question I’d been dreading.

“So, who did you end up with this time? Did you even know the poor guy?”

I bristled at that. ‘The poor guy.’ What about me?

In a tiny voice that trembled, I said, “There were two of them and no, I didn’t know either of them.”

Terri hit the brakes with both feet sending the car into a near fishtail spin.  If I hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, my ass would have shot clean through my stomach and would now be plastered to the windshield. Bringing the car to a stop, she looked at me with eyes that dug into my soul.

“Please don’t go all mommy on me now. I’m about to crack here,” I begged.

“That fucking makes two of us.”

She wouldn’t stop looking at me and it was killing me.  I clasped my hands in my lap and dug my nails into my palms.  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from hers.

“If he were here, this would be killing him all over again.”

“Oh God, don’t.  Please don’t say that right now.  I’m the biggest shit around. I know that.  But don’t rub my nose in it.”

The enormity of what she said bulldozed into me and I opened the car door, leaned over and threw up again. The tears ran freely but I never really cried anymore.  Not the sobbing sort of crying that you’d think of.  Those days were long gone.  What remained now was only a shell of my former self.

Terri grabbed my hands and held them tightly in hers. “Listen to me Alexia. You know I love you. But you gotta promise me something right now.”

“What?”

“No! You gotta promise first!”

“Okay, I promise. What did I just promise?”

“You gotta promise to quit doing the fucking recreational drugs.  You got white shit all over the outside of your nose so I know you were coked up last night. No tellin’ what you smoked.  Add alcohol to that and you’re a disaster waiting to happen.  I so do not want to get that call in the middle of the night.  So promise me!”

“Okay. I promise.”

“No more drugs.  Say it.”

“No more drugs.”

“I mean it Lex.  This is the last time I’m bailing you out. The next time you’re on your own. I can’t keep doing this for you ‘cause it’s killing me. I look at you and see what you’re doing to yourself.  I can’t do it anymore.  Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I sniffed and nodded.  She handed me a box of tissues and I wiped my face.  “I’m so sorry I’ve put you through all this.  I know how close you were with him.”

“He would be so torn up over you right now.  Straighten up for him Lexi.  I know you.  This isn’t you.  It’s been three years now.  You have to find a way to move on.  Go into therapy. Anything.”

“I’ve done therapy.  You know that. I think it made me worse.  That’s when I started doing the stupid drugs.” I looked at our joined hands and felt so hollow inside.

“You had a bad therapist. Try a different one.  Anything Lex.  I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.”

She let go of my hands and started driving again.  We crossed the Arthur Ravenel bridge over the Cooper River and made our way into downtown Charleston.  I lived on Legare Street right off of Tradd in a carriage house owned by the wonderfully wicked blue-haired Charlestonian, Lisbeth Rhett Dubose Rutledge.  I worked part-time as her personal assistant in exchange for free rent. My other job was working as a waitress at Camellia’s, an upscale restaurant.  

Terri pulled into my driveway, which was separate from Lisbeth’s of course (as no self-respecting blue-blooded Charlestonian would want to share a driveway with their help), and turned her car off.  When she got out of her car I began to get suspicious.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming in for a visit,” she answered as she made her way to my door.

We went inside and in a voice I didn’t dare argue with, she said, “Take a shower and get changed.”

“Why?”

“Because, now do it.”

I really didn’t feel like an argument.  I headed to my fridge and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, cracked it open and quickly guzzled half its contents.  My insides must’ve been pickled because I felt better almost immediately.  Then I headed to my shower and scrubbed myself mercilessly.  I took a good look at my naked self afterward and winced at my reflection.  There were multiple bite marks and bruises all over my chest, breasts, stomach and the insides of my thighs.  Those two guys obviously had gone to town on me. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, fearing the Gatorade would make a return visit.

I gave my teeth a good brushing and put on some makeup, but only a little bit and foregoing mascara altogether.  I couldn’t stand the thought of having my lashes caked with the stuff again.

Heading to my room, I rambled through my closet and pulled on a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans.  No shorts today.  Those bruises needed to fade away first.

“So, what’s up?” I asked.

“I’m taking you to the MUSC outpatient clinic.”

“What do I need to go to the Medical University of South Carolina for?”

“You need to get tested for HIV and other stuff like Hepatitis.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not. You’ve been screwing around with God only knows who and you have no idea where those guys have been or who they even are, so you’re going to get tested.  And then there’re the drugs, which put you at risk for Hep-C.  You need to make sure you’re healthy.”

I groaned. “Can’t we do this another day?”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

There was no use arguing with Terri.  When she made up her mind about something that was it. I followed her out to the car and off we went.

The sterile environment of the clinic made me shudder. A nurse ushered me into a room and then the questions started.

How many partners have you had? Did you have anal intercourse? Do you do drugs? What kinds? Any IV drugs? Any cocaine? And on and on...

If that wasn’t invasive and humiliating enough, the blood tests and physical examinations that followed certainly were. I was swabbed and scraped for specimens to be placed on slides that would be tested for every STD known to man, and probably some that weren’t. I wanted to cry, but didn’t. I’d gotten myself into this mess so I needed to take it like a big girl. Or the slut that I was.

When I was finished, they said they would call within a week with the results. We ended up spending the better part of the morning there.

Afterwards, she treated me to lunch...not that I really felt like eating much then.  I made her take me to Home Team for some wings.  I ended up paying the bill because I was the one who’d dragged her but out of bed and made her pick me up that morning.

When she dropped me off, she reminded me of my promise.  “Swear to me Lex.”

“I already did,” I said miserably.

“No, I want you to swear to me over Peter.”

My breath caught in my throat. I looked at her and she knew she had me then.

“You know it’s what he would’ve wanted me to do.  He would’ve hated himself for not finding a way to stop you from doing this. I’m surprised he hasn’t come back somehow and talked some sense into you.”

“Stop Terr.  Please. I just can’t talk about him.”

“Yo
u
hav
e
to talk about him.  He’s the reason behind all of this.  Ignoring him won’t make it go away. Admitting it is your first step to recovery.”

“Whatever.  I swear to you over Peter.  No more drugs Terr.”

Hours later I woke up from my nap and turned on the TV.  I was feeling better physically, but my head and heart were sick over what I’d done the night before.  What had gotten into me that I’d let myself do something so awful? I was not that kind of girl. Then again, maybe I was. No one forced me to leave with Barney and Fred. I’d done it on my own. No one had forced me to snort that coke or drink until I was half crazed. And worst of all, no one had forced me to have sex with two men at the same time. I was the slut that decided to do that all on my own.