CHAPTER FIVE || V | HEIDI

Heidi

V.

***

“I missed this," I mewled.

"Me too," Ziggy mumbled.

He nestled his head into my chest; hickeys tattooed our naked skin under his blankets, we had been binging for three days, sniffing cocaine and fucking, yet it was more profound than that. We were connected, almost like our breath was in sync.

"Why'd you fuck her then?" As I posed my question, he withdrew his attention from cuddling me, shifting to face me. Betrayal washed over me, and I rested my chin on my hand, awaiting his response.

His Adam's apple moved up and down in his throat several times before he uttered, "I didn't know she was your friend, Heidi." His touch was tender as he grasped my other hand, fingertips tracing each knuckle carefully. He leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on each finger, sending a shiver down my spine.

"She's not just my friend, Ziggy. She's my best friend. She's like my sister."

He looked up at me with furrowed brows, "I had no idea." He groaned and bowed his head, letting it hit the mattress. "I give you my word. I truly didn't know."

I smiled kindly but got lost in my thoughts for a moment, "As long as it's just me now," I straddled his lap and placed soft kisses on the nape of his neck.

He moaned gently, gripping my sides. Eventually, he flipped me over onto my back. "I really don't wanna hurt you, Heidi." I shook my head in dismissal. "I'm serious, don't expect good from me."

"What the hell do you mean, Zig?" I snatched my lips away from his neck.

He stuttered over his words, "I-I just don't get why you think I'm this 'good guy'... I'm an addict, Heidi. I don’t even think we should still be seeing each other."

Although I understood, tears welled in my eyes, and anger surged. It was unfair that he was still fucking around with her and now we shouldn’t be together?

"You said you love me," I muttered. Despite my efforts, I was disappointed he didn't desire to be with me.

He pulled me into a warm embrace and whispered in my ear—the captivating melody of "On and On" played through his radio.

"It's always you over her, baby, always."

‘Peace and blessings manifest with every lesson learned,

If your knowledge were your wealth,

Then it would be well-earned.’

***

Abruptly, I pivoted around the bend as the upbeat melody of "On and On" blared from my speakers, filling the air with its infectious rhythm.

"You gotta be fucking kiddin' me!" I ripped the cassette from my radio. Tears were streaming down my cheeks; my sleeves were stained cream-colored from wiping away my concealer. I pulled over to the side of the road and then shoved another cassette into the radio. "Fuck," I muttered.

As I pulled out from the shoulder of the road, the vibrant voice of Erykah Badu filled my car once more.

"I want you,

I need you,

God only knows

I love you,

And that's the start,

The Truth of the Heart,

The love of the soul."

I'm flooded with emotions. My expectations of Ziggy were high, and I had placed my faith in him to fulfill them, but my trust in him was misplaced, and I found myself struggling to deal with his broken promises. I know he's an addict and has been through a lot, but what about me? Don't I matter? I accelerated my car through the deserted and dimly lit roads; my eyes blurred with tears. Even though I wasn't sure where to go, my father's old condo seemed like the ideal destination - a place devoid of any memories of him. To reach there, I had to drive through Venice City. As I got to a red light, I took a moment to wipe my eyes.

"Help me!"

As I lifted my foot from the gas pedal, a man suddenly ran in front of my car, desperately trying to escape from a large black dog chasing him. I quickly hit the brakes to avoid hitting him. Seeing that he needed help, I honked and unlocked the car doors, and he immediately got into the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?" The dog collided with my car, and I let out a yelp, recoiling each time it barked at me through the thick glass separating us. The creature had bright yellow eyes that glowed vividly, and its upper lip curled viciously, revealing sharp and jagged teeth. Luckily, the window shielded my face from becoming ravaged.

"Go, go, go, go!" The man kept his head tucked into his chest and yelled.

I pushed my foot down on the gas pedal, gripping the steering wheel, "Jesus fucking Christ! Are you okay?" I glanced back at him. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and the moonlight revealed a wide cut above his eye. Blood trickled down over his tanned skin, pooling into the corner of his mouth. His bottom lip had swollen to double its size, and his shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing a deep gash. He was breathing heavily, like a fish out of water, but somehow managed to tell me about what happened.

"I was trying to do the right thing, trying to help a guy out, and he just-" He gasped for air "-He just attacked me, kept telling me he was going to kill me."

I put my foot down on the gas pedal and looked at him. For a moment, I thought he would cry. He had large brown eyes and they were filled with pain, not just from what just happened but everything he'd ever faced in his life, every bully who had pushed him around, every time he hadn't been brave enough to stand up for himself. At that moment, I understood that it wasn't about being tough or strong but simply being a good person. The dog stepped back and watched us drive away like he couldn't understand what had just happened. I glanced back in the rearview mirror several times before I turned onto another road. "Where do you live?" I asked finally.

"Y-you can just drop me here, it’s fine," He stammered, almost inaudible, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"What about the dog?" I stopped at a red light.

He recounted, "A van pulled up behind me and these guys started taunting me, sayin’ that I looked like a chew toy." His voice faded away as if he were back in the moment. "They opened the side door and let their dog out to tear me apart, man," He continued, leaning back into the chair.

"Well, don't worry, I’m not gonna leave you here," I reassured him, "I'm gonna drive you to my house, and we’ll clean you up." The light turned green.

With a small voice, he nodded and said, "Thank you." After placing his hand on my shoulder briefly, he pulled away and introduced himself with a smile, "I'm Clay, by the way."

I introduced myself, and we soon turned right onto a dimly lit path that stretched deep into North Saklas, an area blanketed in twenty-two acres of majestic birch trees. Daddy's old condo sat right in the middle of the lush greenery. We reached the condo's entrance, and I was grateful to be away from that dog. However, the whole experience made me uneasy, and my nerves stayed unsettled.

Clay asked, "Where are we?" as he gazed out the window.

"Don't worry, we're not far from Venice City," I said as I pulled into my garage. "Do you live around here or nearby?"

"I actually live in Ridgemaple," Clay added. "It's right off Route 7."

We exited the car after I shut the garage door and switched off the ignition. Making our way to the back door, I unlocked it and ushered him inside. I gestured toward the couch and invited him to take a seat. I couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of admiration towards him. I hung my keys on the hook affixed to the wall. Clay entered the living room and gazed around in amazement before closing the door behind him.

I chuckled, "Well damn, have you never seen a living room before?" As he drew nearer, a rosy hue crept up his cheeks, and his brows knit together. He leaned against the plush sofa.

“You gotta nice house. You wanna brag?”

I took my turn to feel my cheeks turn pink, "What? No!" I scoffed. I entered the bathroom, opened the cabinet under the sink, and pulled out a first aid kit. "If I wanted to brag, I'd tell you this is my third condo," I reentered the living room. Clay's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he parted his lips to speak, but I interjected, "In this town."

I placed the first aid kit on the coffee table. He burst out laughing, his infectious chuckles filling the room. His laughter was so contagious that I joined in, and it was then that he sat on the couch, causing me to smile.

"I must confess, ya got me there," Clay chuckled as he hastily pulled his shirt collar over his head.

Clay's body was tense and muscular, his broad shoulders rising with every breath. An angry bite mark sat on the left side of his shoulder, its skin inflamed and crimson red, dotted with small stones and lint from his shirt. A large purple bruise occupied the area around it. His face was a mess; a deep bruise covered his cheekbone, jagged cuts crisscrossed his eyebrow, blood leaked from his right eye, and a fat lip stood out steeply in the center. I swallowed hard, then reached for my supplies: a roll of gauze, a bottle of antiseptic, and a bottle of 99-proof vodka. I poured some liquid over the pad, watching it soak into the cotton before drawing closer to Clay. I gently placed the cotton pad on the bite and attempted to remove the grime from the wound, though he winced away from my touch each time. I grabbed the alcohol bottle again and poured it directly onto his shoulder.

Clay hissed, then flinched away, "Fuck! You coulda warned me first!"

"Sorry," I muttered and wiped gently.

I grabbed a damp cotton pad and carefully wiped away most dirt and pebbles from his wound. Unscrewing the bottle of antiseptic, I slowly squeezed it over his shoulder until the entire area was coated with its contents. I ran the same damp cotton pad once more over his bite before grabbing some gauze to wrap his shoulder with. With one hand, I ripped off a small piece of medical tape using my teeth and tightly secured the gauze on his shoulder before patting it down gently for good measure.

"Vodka was something my grandpa used on my dad back when he was a kid. Cleans better than anything, in his opinion. He was crazy, but I guess he’s not wrong."

"You know, you could be a nurse, blondie."

So many men have called me Blondie in the past, but Ziggy's smile is what crossed my mind. God, I can't believe him.

***

"Let's go, blondie!" Ziggy weaved through the trees.

We scrambled through Achamoth Memorial State Park, pursued by police sirens echoing across the night sky. I never understood why McCray and Ziggy wanted to keep getting into trouble, and this time was no different; they wanted to see Vinny's body in the Ridgemaple morgue. The closer we got, the more vivid the smell of putrefaction became; the acrid fumes made my throat burn and my eyes water. When our vision adjusted to the darkness, there it was; a cadaver suspended in the forbidding metal bars of a morgue drawer, with pieces of cloth draped over half its face. I anticipated shock from Ziggy but he stood there motionless, like a statue. McCray snapped his Polaroid camera away, desiring answers for the mysterious crime scene photos he'd received in the mail. I gulped down the lump of fear in my throat and suggested that we leave. Ziggy stayed for one more moment then he grabbed my arm abruptly; it seemed he had finally come back to reality.

“Come on! I think I saw a shortcut!" Ziggy yelled.

I kept silent as I trailed him through the park, watching his every move. Being here was my way of making sure he was with me; although he could be unpredictable, I still wanted the best for him.

McCray rushed to catch up with us and quickly stuffed his Polaroid into his satchel. "This is crazy," he muttered as he strode past me.

Ziggy interlaced our fingers and guided me to the car at the end of the long dirt road. He stood by my side, waiting for McCray to arrive. We opened both doors, and then I clambered into the back seat.

As soon as we did, he blurted out, "The police are full of shit." A thought I had gotten used to hearing too often. “The crime photos from the first scene don’t match. Also, nowhere in any documentation does it say that Vinny was tongueless.” McCray glanced toward Ziggy, who was shaking his head and jotting down points in a notebook on the dashboard.

"Couldn't that just be a coincidence?" I tried to reason with him. Maybe this was a sad misunderstanding that two heartbroken addicts couldn't accept.

"Heidi, this isn't a fuckin' coincidental thing," McCray insisted. He held up the photo and pushed it towards me. "Look-- his mouth is open here, and do you see this?" McCray pulled a phone out of his pocket. The screen was cracked and the back piece was missing but it looked intact otherwise.

Ziggy recoiled in surprise, his eyes widening at the sight of the phone. "Is that Vinny's goddamn phone?" he asked. "How'd you get it out?"

"I broke the cabinet and took it," McCray shoved the little black phone back into his pocket, "I'm gonna charge it and turn it on. Something that'll tell us how Vinny died has to be on it."

He shoved his keys into the ignition and cranked over the engine. The headlights flashed on, casting a bright beam of light down the long dirt road ahead. A large black dog emerged from the shadows, paws pattering lightly in the silent night. It paused, its golden eyes staring intently at us through the windshield.

Ziggy quaked and jerked to a sitting position. His voice shaky, he managed, "What the hell is that? A...a wolf?!"

The night sky was illuminated by the cherry red and blue flashes of police lights, and the sound of sirens grew louder as they resonated through the tree-lined street. The dog's ears flattened against its head, and it stalked closer to the car with its fanged mouth curled in a menacing snarl.

"Shh!" McCray spat.

The engine whirred, and the car started to back up, tires grinding against the gravel. Red and blue flashes of police vehicle lights were reflected on the trees as they raced toward us. The dog's short legs pounded against the ground, and its growl reverberated off the side of the car like a deep drumbeat. It leaped onto the hood, pushing us further into reverse with its weight.

"McCray, just go!"

McCray's foot jammed down on the gas pedal, and we jumped forward. The rabid dog's howl cut through the air as it lurched into motion, its yellow eyes intensely focusing on me.

"Go!" I squealed.

The shrill sirens grew deafening as McCray shifted the gear into drive and accelerated. The dog barked wildly, its tail wagging and paws scrabbling against the pavement as it darted toward the car, but McCray was already speeding away.

***

"Don't call me that," I retorted, pulling my hand from him to grab another cotton pad soaked in alcohol.

Clay deflated, watching me tend to his wounds in silence. This was the second time that this dog had tried to hurt someone. What was causing the thing to attack? Was there a connection with what Ziggy and McCray were looking for? Deep in thought, I ran my fingers over the bite on Clay's shoulder.

"Does it feel any better?" I asked as I gave him a small towel, which he used to dab away the dried blood from his temple, "It should be all patched up. Cleaning up and getting rest will do you good."

"My shoulder feels fifty percent better," Clay said through a weak smile, "It's gonna take some time for me to recover, Heidi." He locked his gaze with mine, and I felt a surge of emotions in my chest. I wanted to trust him, to let him stay close by. "You don't have to do my face if you don't want to," he muttered, mostly to himself.

I placed the cotton pad on his eyebrow, "I got it. It's fine," I reassured him, pressing it into his eyebrow. "Besides, I wanna tell you how I've seen that dog before.