Changes

They sat down in the alley behind the arena. Mike cursed to himself, realizing that not only was it cold, the ground was damp. This made the second time in a week that he'd been camped out on wet asphalt. Tony offered Mike a cigarette, which he took and puffed on.

"I've been with...a lot of losers, Mike." She said quietly.
"Haven't we all?"
"Not like me. I just...I just dated a certain type of guy when I was using. And I've only been clean for about six months, so its not like that sort of behavior is behind me, you know?"

Mike nodded sympathetically.

"The guys I'd...well, to be honest with you, my relationships were mostly about the sex and the drugs. It was never...the guys were never like Billie. They wanted sex, they wanted drugs and I just happened to want the same things."

Mike was silent but attentive, puffing on his cigarette.

"There were so many guys...I don't even remember some of them, I was so strung out. You guys haven't seen me wasted, haven't seen me out of my head..."

She paused, eyes dark. She took a long drag on her cigarette, then continued.

"Most of the dudes I hung out with, I dated. Sort of like, date your own kind, you know? They were all struggling musicians who would shoot up and strum a bit on their guitar and call it songwriting."
"Why were you with them then? You don't strike me as the kind of girl who'd...who'd do that."
"Mike, you know me now. The sober Tony. The guitarist Tony. The rational Tony. If you'd seen me six, seven months ago, you'd never recognize me."
"Doesn't explain why you were with them."

Tony let out a sob.

"It was never about love, Mike. It wasn't even about a relationship. It was sex. It was drugs. Nothing else. I was their whore, their bitch, doing stripteases for cocaine lines."

Mike patted her gently on the shoulder, vaguely uncomfortable with the situation. Tony wiped her eyes, seemingly unconcerned with the smeared eye make-up.

"There were so many guys who just wanted some slut to fuck...but then there was Andy."

And instantly, Mike knew that from the way she said his name, that this guy was trouble.

"He had this...complex, when it came to me. I was his...well, I suppose he saw me as his possession. He was the only one who could touch me, who could fuck me...a lot of the other guys..."

She trailed off, fresh tears forming behind her eyes lids.

"They'd pass me around. Trade me for drugs. And I didn't care, because I was so fucked up that I'd do anything for a high. I'm ashamed of what I did, and I'd die of any of them found out. If they knew how far I went for some lousy drugs."
"But you're clean now. That's all behind you."

She shook her head.

"You don't understand Andy. I AM his possession. For an entire year, I was his bitch. And as much as I hate to admit it, I was the most submissive little slut in New York. I did what Andy said.He made me...he was into some freaky shit. He used too many drugs, hit me all the time, screwed me more times than I'd like to admit."

Then she stopped, and took a deep breath, choking back a sob.

"But the one thing that kept me sane, in all those years, was Marty. Marty kept me alive, kept me somewhat healthy. Made sure i didn't reuse old needles, kept me from overdosing...protected me from Andy. And...I know it was never love, between the two of us, but at the time, it was the closest thing I'd ever felt to it."
"How'd he die?"
"Andy killed him."

Mike gaped at her. Tony smiled sardonically.

"I don't have proof, but I know its true. Marty wasn't clean, just somewhat under control. He drank more than he smoked, or snorted, so he was...just in charge of us. Andy hated him, just because of the way I looked at him. I swear, half the bruises I got were because of Marty."

She smiled, looking at her wrists.

"When Marty met me, I was losing WAY too much blood cutting, and all my substance abuse wasn't helping. Marty managed to get me off the razor...protected me from Andy."

She paused, closing her eyes and blowing smoke into the air.

"Andy didn't like Marty fucking with his 'bitch'. I knew there would be trouble, I knew it. But Marty, Marty was the only thing keeping me from dying. I was too selfish to give him up."

Tony started shaking. Mike slung an arm around her shoulders, looking at her concerned.

"And...And because I was a selfish little whore, because I couldn't let him go...Andy killed him."

She started sobbing hysterically, wiping the tears on her glove, then cursing. Mike pulled her close, but apparently, Tony wasn't done.

"I...I left him then. Everyone...in my band...they think it's because he was cheating on me. But...but it was because of Marty. I killed him. And I couldn't think of a good enough way to kill Andy, so I left...checked myself into rehab, disappeared. I threw myself into music. I worked so fucking hard. Then Robert picked me up and I played for him and the band got together...and then we met YOU guys..."

She sighed, wiping her eyes again.

"But I KNEW. In the back of my head, I knew he'd come after me."
"Who? Andy?"
"Yep. And he did."

Mike's jaw dropped open.

"When...How..."
"This morning. He must have slipped in last night while you guys were outside. He...he's going to do something...maybe to Billie. And I can't stand losing someone I love to that bastard."

She dropped her head, cursing.

"We'll...call the police, we'll do something."
"There's nothing you guys can do. He's untouchable. No paper trail, nothing. And when he kills. It's always accidental, or it looks that way. Marty supposedly died of an overdose, and no one looked into it because they just assumed he was a druggie. He's a sneaky bastard. And he's dangerous."
"What do you think he'll do?"
"Come after the band, you and Tre...that is, if he doesn't get his hands on Billie first."
"Why do you think he'll come after Billie?"

Tony was silent for a moment. Then she looked Mike straight in the eyes.

"Because I love Billie. I fucked Billie. And if there's one way you teach a human being to be submissive, it's killing something they love. And making them watch."

Then she burst into tears.