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Breathless	By : xCookingWinex Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Aiden Views: 1882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Aiden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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This wasn’t going to be fun, he knew. Sure he shook up that guy; sure he was probably never going to come back. But Wil didn’t do what Jake told him to do. And after he had buried Nick’s body, he learnt that you always do what Jake tells you to do.
He mumbled through what he was going to say to Jake, as he walked up the steps to his front door.
He had a child with him … he wasn’t home … I just couldn’t do it.
He didn’t knock the door as it was open slightly. He heard people talking on the other side of the door, and he recognised JD’s voice. As he walked in, JD broke his conversation off with the man he was talking to, and followed Wil.
“Hey,” he called. “Wolfe’s looking for you.”
“Shit.”
“What’s up?”
“It - it doesn’t matter.” And as Wil turned to find Wolfe, he had a thought. He turned back to JD. “JD … you know I said to you about a girl I’ve been seeing?”
“Yeah?”
“If Wolfe does something to me, you have to find her and tell her.”
“What-”
“Don’t ask questions, just tell her. Her name’s Walker. She lives in the Edwards apartment building, around the corner. But if I come out of this alive, forget what I just said. Don’t try and find her.” JD went to talk, but Wil interrupted, “Please just do this for me JD.”
“Only for you, Wil.” JD said with a laugh.
“Gay.” Wil joked back, thanking him with a nod.
Now with the jokes aside, it was all Wil could do to drag himself through the house he’d become so accustomed to. It felt like he was walking to his death, like this was a long walk off a short pier. But he couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing he’d killed someone, so maybe being killed himself wouldn’t be so bad. At least he won’t be living with that remorse, that haunting thought, knowing that he had took the life of another man, knowing that he was the last thing that poor bastard saw before he died. The last thing that man would know would be fear and it’d be because of Wil. He’d be no better than the monster he was looking for now.
Wolfe was still in the kitchen, the same place he was when Wil had left earlier.
I should just tell him. It’d be easier than lying. After all, live fast, die young, isn’t that what they say? Even though there’s so much I want to do, so much I want to see.
Wil crept through the door, hoping maybe Wolfe wouldn’t notice him and Wil could sneak out and never come back here. Maybe Wolfe wouldn’t see him and Wil would leave and take Alyn with him, maybe he’d get off the drugs and maybe he’d get a real job and really go places.
And maybe pigs will fly.
“Di’ya take care of that guy for me?” Wolfe asked, not looking up from the money he was counting at the table.
Wil wondered why he’d count those bills right there in the kitchen, where any old poor druggie could come and take it. But then he saw the gun sitting next to the money and realised that if anyone was to even try to take that money, Wil had no doubt that Jake Wolfe would pick that pistol up so quickly that the thief would be dead before he even realised.
“Wil? Did you take care of that guy?” Wolfe asked again, putting down the notes he was handling. “What’s up with you?”
“I didn’t – I couldn’t,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t do it.”
Wolfe looked at him, and then turned his head slowly back to the table, where he resumed counting his money. He didn’t say a word. Wil swallowed, his mouth all of a sudden going dry. He’d rather Wolfe be angry, be up in his face and shouting than sitting there like nothing was wrong.
“I – I’m sorry, Jake.” He tried again. But again, Wolfe said nothing. “Really, I am.”
Wolfe shuffled some notes, counting under his breath, and then he put them down on the table.
“Say something.” Wil asked, trying not to sound like he’s begging. Wolfe would just laugh if he sounded desperate.
He took a step forward, and as he did, Wolfe finally spoke, “Stop. Don’t come any closer.”
His speech was slow, deliberate. He knew he was making Wil uncomfortable and he knew that this was just as bad as physically hurting him.
Wil did what he was told, and just stood by the door, that was still open slightly. He needed someone to come and interrupt; he needed the house to fall down around them, anything to get out of this situation.
Wolfe pushed away from the table slowly, his chair scraping along the floor noisily. He got up and walked around Wil, to the door, which he then pushed closed.
He turned to Wil and whispered in his ear, “Sit down, pretty boy.”
Wil practically jumped into the seat. Putting his hands in his lap, he felt like a naughty student at school, and Wolfe pacing around the table didn’t help.
Then there was silence. Absolute silence. Wil could barely hear Wolfe’s breathing, and he actually held his breath at one point, as to not make any noise at all. It was eerie.
“Jake –” Wil attempted again, the quiet killing him. He just needed to explain, maybe find the reasonable side of this man – of this monster.
Wolfe’s fist came down quickly on the table, so hard it rattled and groaned. “What did I say to you, Wil? What did I say before you left here?”
“You said –”
“That’s right, I said you kill him, or I kill you. Didn’t I?” Wil opened his mouth to answer, but Jake cut him off once again. “Yes, I did. And you didn’t fucking do it.”
“I’m sorry –”
“Sorry? Bullshit.”
“Will you just let me talk to you? Fuck, Jake!”
“Unless you’re going to shout, “Just kidding!” and show me the bloody gun, you can’t say anything I want to hear.”
“How about that guy could have had kids, or a wife or an elderly parent to look after? How do I know he deserved to die? I don’t have the right to take his life away from him.”
Wolfe stared hard for a few seconds, before laughing. He laughed and laughed, near hysterical for a few more moments, and then stopped as suddenly as he had begun. He kicked the table out from in front of Wil’s face, Jake’s rage shocking him.
“I don’t give a shit, you little pansy! If you want to be all lovey and shit then you get the fuck out of this house right now. I don’t do forgiveness, I don’t do what if – I definitely don’t play the rights card. If he didn’t want me to go round there and beat the shit out of him, he should have paid me.
“He shouldn’t have taken my drugs without paying me back. He should never have stepped into this house. When you do, you’re on my territory, and you play by my rules. Y’hear me?”
Wil’s fists tightened as he rested them on his thighs.
Prick, prick, fucking prick!
Jake came down to his level, his face too close to Wil’s for his liking, “I said, y’hear me, motherfucker?”
“Yeah I fuckin’ hear you.” Wil said through clenched teeth.
“You do what I tell you, Wil. That’s how it goes around here.”
“You’re not some kind of Messiah …” he mumbled under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
Before Wil could even think, Wolfe backhanded him around the face, “I’ll ask you again, Wil. What did you say?”
Through instinct, Wil covered his face with his hand, feeling his skin burning from Jake’s slap. It hurt like a bitch.
When Wil saw Jake raise his hand again, he answered quickly, his speech coming in more of a slur than a coherent sentence, “I said you’re not a fucking Messiah.”
Jake laughed, shaking his head. Once again, he got close to Wil’s face as he said, “You obviously don’t know me very well at all, do you?”
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Breathless