Hurricane

 I could see Mikey falling apart right in front of me. I could see that the drugs were getting the best of him, and I was afraid that it would lead somewhere he shouldn't be. He would cut up these perfect lines of coke and snort it right in front of me. He wasn't discreet anymore, he didn't care, because no one was around. I think it was the only time I was really stressed out.

"Mike. We need to talk." He was lying on the couch, getting a quick nap before he went off to find Bob.

He opened his tired eyes, "What? I'm trying to get some sleep before I head out."

"We need to talk about your habit." I mumbled quickly.

He sat up, "My habit?"

I stood away, "Yeah, look at yourself, baby...you look a mess."

He furrowed his brows, "Fuck you."

"Mikey, you look like you've ran yourself into the ground! You need to rest, fuck that shit." I snapped at him; he didn't even bat a lash to me.

"You don't know what you're talking about Rooney." He pressed his back against the couch and closed his eyes.

I sat beside him, "You need to get a full night's rest...forget about meeting Bob," he opened his eyes lazily and looked at me tiredly, "Stay with me."

Mikey sighed, leaned over and pressed his head to my chest, "I need it. I need the money."

"No you don't. Just stay with me, please?" I felt myself treading on dangerous waters, "I stayed with you."

That had done it.

Mikey had pulled away from me, standing up and glaring at me. "You're comparing you running away with me to me staying in this fucking house with you?!"

"That's not what I meant--"

"You meant it that fucking way! Don't try to fucking deny it, Rooney!"

"Mikey," I leaned forward a bit, "I only meant that I want you to be with me--"

"For me to be with you, I need to get fucking loaded! I need--" He stopped himself, "I don't even know why I explain myself to you. You don't fucking understand." He stormed away from me, and towards the back door.

"Mikey! Mikey, come back!" I stood up, hearing the back door slam shut, "Shit." I mumbled.

There was a knock on the door a second later. I looked towards the entry way, seeing the screen door opened, the front door as well. I saw Gretchen come in; she had heard us. She had heard me call him Mikey. She knew something wasn't right.

"Are you two alright?"

I shook my head, "He's mad at me."

"He has a very ill drug problem."

I shut my eyes and rubbed my neck, "It isn't obvious, is it?" I muttered sarcastically.

She came over and gave me a warm hug, "It's alright honey."

"I just wanted him to stay." I told her.

"He's a man, he's gonna do what he wants." She let me go gently, "you can't let him upset you, you're pregnant."

"Yes...I know."

She gave me a concerned look, "I must ask, why do you call him Mikey?"

I rubbed my head, thinking of the lie Mikey had taught me; "His middle name is Michael, growing up, we called him Mikey. Much better than Jake, don't you think?"

She nodded, "And Rooney?"

"My maiden name." No lie there.

"Oh," she nodded, believing me, "how about I make you some tea? Get you relaxed."

"Thank you."

While Gretchen and I talked and had tea, I really wanted to tell her the truth. She is a sweet old woman, and I always felt I could share anything with her. As she had sat across from me, I contemplated it.

"Gretchen, if I were to tell you something...would you promise not to tell anyone?" I played with the rim of my mug, not meeting her eyes.

"Well, I don't believe I have anyone to tell," she gave a sweet giggle that made me feel comfortable, "what is it honey?"

I looked up at her, "I'm not who you think I am."

She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

Just as I was going to spill my guts, Mikey walked through the back door. My body stiffened as he coughed; "Hey Gretchen."

"Hello Jake." She smiled at him, then turned to me, "What were you going to say?"

I shook my head, "It isn't important." I sipped my tea.

She squeezed my hand after placing hers on mine, "Alright honey." She sipped her tea, then stood, "I should get going. Rich is probably wondering where dinner is."

I smiled at her, "It was nice seeing you."

Mikey leaned against the counter, "See you."

Gretchen let herself out, and Mikey took her place. He looked at me expectantly; "I need you to do me a favor." 

I raised my brow slightly, "Yeah?"

He glared at me with empty, threatening eyes, "You need to learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut." His voice lowered a few octaves, and was warning.

I looked at him with fearful eyes, "What?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Don't act innocent, you were a minute away from telling her who we really are. What the fuck is wrong with you?!" His hand came down on the table and he tossed Gretchen's mug across the room.

Tea splattered on the cabinets and the mug's handle broke off, the cup chipped. 

I swallowed thickly, "I wasn't--"

"You're a goddamn liar. I know you, Ladonna," he spoke my name mockingly, "I know you better than you know yourself. I can tell, by that fucking look on your face that you think I'm a monster."

I blinked and pinched my lips, then opened my mouth, "I don't think you're a monster."

"You're a terrible, fucking liar. I taught you all my tricks, and you still freeze up like an idiot when you're around me. Why?" He kept giving me this challenging look. 

I didn't know what to do.

"I...I love you. I don't want to disappoint you."

"You wanna know something?" He stood and leaned down in front of me, inches from my mouth, "You've been disappointing me a lot lately."

I wasn't frightened, I was worried. I didn't know what was going through his mind; but as I said, I could read his face. He was mad, he also confused. To be a fly on the wall of his thoughts. I wanted to know what he was thinking.

Mikey wasn't in his right mind. The drugs made it a lot worse. Sometimes, I think the drugs made him even more crazy...unstable.

He grabbed my jaw, roughly, "Keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, wincing at the pain his jagged nails dug into the side of my jaw, "Yes."

He let me go, "As soon as It's born, we're fucking out of here. So tired of this bullshit." He walked away from me, heading down into the basement.

I had been numb to it then, I didn't even cry. Now that I think about it, I cry. It was a moment that I wish wouldn't have been brought up.

After he had gone down to the basement, I went to the bathroom and checked my jaw out. I had three little crescent marks, but nothing else. I really wanted to help him; I really, really wanted to.