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Reckless Abandonment	By : bsoffia Category: Anita Blake > Slash Views: 3413 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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It was late afternoon by the time Richard dragged his exhausted body through the door of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. He paused in the doorway, his head hung low. His apartment was small, but it was all he could afford on his miserable teacher’s salary. There was no entry room to speak of. The one door opened into the living room. The kitchen was two steps to the right, and a small hallway led to the bedroom and attached bathroom.
The apartment was a mess; empty beer and whisky bottles littered the floor, soiled dishes were piled high in the sink, and the apartment stank of moldy food and stale beer. The aluminum kitchen floor was sticky and caked with spilt liquids of all varieties, mostly alcohol.
Richard was unaware of the mess before him. The only thing he wanted was to forget about her, but images of Anita haunted him constantly; those large expressive brown eyes that were always brutally honest, the flawless features that everyone could see except her and the kissable lips that molded perfectly to his.
He missed the rare smile that made his heart sputter, and the way she looked when she told him she loved him was something he would never forget. He loved how she tried to stay mad at him but couldn’t. Most of all, he craved her touch; even a light brush of her fingers would start his heart pounding… a heart that would break anew every time he thought about what was lost.
He berated himself when he remembered the number of times he chased her out of his life. He hated her indecision and all her men; he was savagely jealous and he took it out on her. He enjoyed hurting her; the pain in her eyes took the sting out of his own torment.
But he truly loved her and believed they had time to fix things between them. He was convinced she would eventually come to her senses and realize he was the one for her. And then things would return to the way they were at the beginning… before the power games and the triumvirate. But fate had other plans…
Richard had cursed their metaphysical bond almost daily, but he would give anything to open the marks now and find her there. In fact, he kept his marks opened in the day and hoped he would feel something… because she couldn’t be dead. Not when there were so many things unresolved between them. Not before he apologized for being such ass and told her how he really felt.
He wandered into the kitchen and his rubber soles smacked loudly on the sticky floor. He didn’t seem to notice, or even care about the surrounding mess. He rummaged through the cabinets and pulled out a small bottle of whisky.
Richard stared at the bottle. It was his only friend now. Everyone else wanted to talk, but he preferred the alcoholic daze. The total oblivion when he crashed was better than the depression. And if he was really lucky, he would drink himself to death soon.
With bottle in hand, he went to his disheveled bedroom and then into the tiny bathroom that smelled of mildew. He set his ‘friend’ down on the counter and let water run into his filthy sink. He splashed cold water on his face and then stared at himself in the mirror.
Richard could barely recognize himself. Who was this stranger staring back at him? His beard had grown out and there were water droplets dripping from it. His weary eyes were puffy and red from lack of sleep, and his cheeks were sunken from lack of nourishment. He looked like shit, but the thought of a shave exhausted him.
He walked back into the bedroom, opened the bottle and took a swig of whisky. It tasted awful, but he welcomed the bitter taste as it warmed the pit of his stomach. He marveled at how something so distasteful could bring him so much pleasure. Richard had never been much of a drinker in the past, but that was all he did now. He only left his apartment to go to the liquor store down the street, or to the bar two streets away.
Richard sighed and sat on the edge of the unmade bed. He downed the rest of the whisky in one gulp and coughed as it burned his throat going down. He waited for oblivion to set in, and when the whisky finally worked its magic through his veins, every painful thought of her melted from his mind.
This was the time of day he yearned for, when he drank himself senseless. He knew he was throwing his life away; it would be so much easier to just kill himself, but he clung on to his half life. Part of him still believed that suicide was a mortal sin, but that part got smaller everyday and he knew he would soon succumb to the urge to damn his own soul to hell.
Richard removed his heavy boots and tossed them randomly to the floor. One hit the wall in front on him, bounced off and hit the ground with a splat. The other fell into a pile of clothes in the corner of the room.
Richard’s body jerked, and then went completely still when he heard a strange noise from where the second boot had fallen. He stood up groggily and weaved his way to the pile of clothes to investigate. He got closer and his stomach turned when he recognized the sound. He pulled the clothes out of the way and a cheerful Christmas jingle pierced his ears.
Winter Wonderland blared at him and he couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed out his eyes. He bent down and picked up the stuffed penguin. It wore a Santa hat and held a giant stuffed candy cane in its hand. He dropped it in horror and backed away. He had given this festive plush to Anita for Christmas many years ago. Why was it here now? It wasn’t here when he left the house.
Richard made a strange sound; it was a combination of laughter, anger and despair. The memories he tried so hard to drown out with the whisky flooded his mind. He screamed and doubled over as tremors racked his entire body and his head exploded. He regained control of himself slowly and the stared at the fallen penguin. And then he knew. HE did this. That French bastard.
Richard remained frozen for what seemed like hours as memories, both good and bad played in his mind, torturing him. He clutched his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. This had to end or he’d be ready for the nuthouse. He bent over to pick up the penguin, and then he felt it; a small tug on his psyche. The vampire was awake for the night, and suddenly, Richard had a place to focus his anger.
He had been ignoring that monster since Anita’s death; his drunken stupor every night had a dual purpose; it chased away the memories as well as kept that thing out of his mind and his thoughts. He had not felt him for more than two weeks, but the bastard was inside his head now and the invasion hit Richard like a ton of bricks.
The impact freed his mind from his painful memories and anger overwhelmed the sadness. How dare that vampire slip into his mind! He had no right, no claim to him now that Anita was gone. Richard was furious; his anger was red hot and focused on one man, the monster that was responsible for her death. He may not have killed her, but it was his fault she was gone. All his fault.
Richard smiled grimly. Things were finally clear in his mind. He found his purpose. He knew what he had to do, how to put a stop to his suffering and end it all. But he would not go alone. That monster would go straight to hell with him.
Richard walked swiftly to the door but did not put his shoes back on. He didn’t need shoes to kill himself. He got into his car and headed to the Circus of the Damned with murderous thoughts on his mind. He didn’t think about the shape-shifter guards with guns. He didn’t care about the vampires who would stand in his way. Nothing would stop him.
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Reckless Abandonment