Painted On My Heart

He staggered to the bed. His bed. Even with taking the time to rid the bedspread of the confetti and change the pillowcases where that overly strong cologne lingered, he’d still, hopefully, get at least a couple hours’ sleep.

~?~

The neighborhood had a reputation and not a good one. This side of town was notorious for drugs, prostitution, and heavy gang violence. Broken bottles, trash, and other discarded debris littered the streets.

Several nefarious-looking guys, hanging around the street corner, motioned for Kellus to pull over, no doubt trying to either sell him drugs or rob him. He was quite certain it wasn’t to invite him over to Sunday dinner or to have a nice friendly chat.

A shiver slowly crawled up his spine as he took in his surroundings. Unfortunately, he’d been there before, but no matter how many times he found himself on this side of town, it always gave him that oogy feeling. The run-down houses were in serious need of repair, and this house, the one he had been summoned to, probably more so than any on the street. Even at five in the morning, people were gathered on the porch of the older, dilapidated two-story. The music blared too loud, but no one in this neighborhood would dare call the police.

Pulling to the curb, he cut the engine and palmed the keys. Kellus had to steel his spine in order to gather enough nerve to climb out of the van and go inside. He stepped out, closed the door, and hit the car locks. Like that would help keep the slime out of the van.

As he rounded the hood, a sudden deep sadness hit him. He didn’t understand how John could prefer this run-down place to the beautiful home they’d bought together. John had always been drawn to the seedier side of life. It had been almost two years since his ex had fallen head first into the drug world, crystal meth in particular, and never bothered to look back. Kellus didn’t get the draw. He'd watched that drug destroy everything he held dear in life. Even though he would rescue John and drag him back home, time and time again, John had never been strong enough to leave the life behind. The addiction always won. At least that was the way Kellus preferred to see things.

“Your boy’s in the back room,” someone said from a dark corner as he entered the musty house. They knew him by sight and usually referred to him as John’s keeper or warden. He knew the layout, but still his heart continued to race in his chest. He didn’t know or trust any of these people. He hated being inside this place. Hated himself because he wasn’t strong enough to let John go and didn’t have the ability to help John fight the addiction.

Kellus made his way through the cluttered hallway, stopping at the farthest door to the left, and pushed it open. His heart sank and his stomach churned at the sight that greeted him as he stepped inside the dimly lit room. John was on his stomach, some guy riding his ass, neither aware of Kellus’s presence.

Sadly, he’d become a little more desensitized to seeing John strung out like this…and in this position. It wasn’t as shocking as it had once been to see a stranger fucking his ex-lover. Being prepared still didn’t make it any easier to witness, nor did it change the fact that what was left of his broken heart repeatedly shattered into a million pieces. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm the anxiety rushing through his body. The room smelled of pot, sweat, sex, and other things he didn’t want to think of.

The gravity of the moment and the hopelessness of the situation washed over him in a wave of nauseous realization. Tough love or not, John couldn’t be fixed. His stomach roiled, threatening to empty its contents on the dirty, stained carpet.

“Get off him. I’m taking him with me,” he grumbled when the guy glanced over at him.

“You wanna join? He’s a good fuck, likes to be tag-teamed. Don’t you, pretty boy?” The guy made a show of grabbing John’s hair, pulling his head back as he pounded into him.

“Get the fuck off him,” Kellus repeated louder as he stepped closer.

“He’s not going anywhere. He owes me. I paid for this tight white ass.”

“The fuck you did,” Kellus growled as he stormed the rest of the way over to the bed and shoved the guy off John. John lifted his head on his own. A moment of recognition flashed in John’s eyes, and he smiled at Kellus before those once beautiful blue eyes lost focus again.

“What the fuck are you on now? Come on. I’m taking you to sober up. You’ve worn out your welcome here.”