#25 Control.

When the whine of my cell phone brought me from the innards of my mind, I was more than reluctant to answer it. I was lying across the couch, the television was the only source of light in the room and the only sound was that of the cell. Upon the screen flashed the words 'Adrienne.' 

I sighed, reached for the device and answered the call. 

“Adi, I really --” I was cut off by a stream of frantic, jumbled, words, “Calm down Adi. Whats wrong?”

“Billie. I don't know, he – he's not himself.” her voice was riddled with anxiety.

I sat bolt up right with my bare feet planted firmly on the floor ; I could feel the dread settling in the pit of my stomach. 

“How do you mean, Adi?” I asked firmly, trying to keep the anxiety from my voice.

There was a distant smash on the other end of the phone and a slight squeal from the woman. I couldn't help but cringe. 

“H-he's just breaking things. He threatened me and the boys.” 

“Where are you now?”

“Locked in my bedroom. Mike, please come over. Bring Tre and – and Brittney,” The name cut through me, “ I don't care just bring anyone!” 

The line went dead before I could muster up a reply. 

I jumped to my feet, threw on the first jacket I could find and slipped on my shoes. While I dashed to the car, I called up Tre. 

“Holy fucking buns. I'll get over there now!”

Everything, from the end of that brief phone call, until Billie Joe's home, was a blur; A haze of emotion and thoughts. Brittney, my beloved, had just left me that evening with my son in her arms. Now, here I was, just five ours later, speeding towards my best friends home where he has gone 'Fink' on his family. How did it all get to this?

Tre's car was parked on the street opposite the house. I pulled up behind him, climbed out of the vehicle and headed across the street. Tucked neatly into the back of my pants was a gun, one I had kept in the glove compartment since the last time I was mugged ; and if needs be I would use it. 

**

What ever war was going on inside Armstrong's head, I didn't like it ; and being held at knife point didn't help matters.

As far as I knew, Tre was upstairs getting the more sane of the Armstrong clan out of the house. Whether the police had been called or not, I didn't know, but for Billie's sake I hoped not. 

In reality it was not Billie who stood before me, but Fink. The crazed expression accompanied by the evil glint in his eyes was that of the German persona ; not of our beloved BJ. 

I never considered myself a hero, even after that evening. When Tre and I had knocked and banged our way into the house, Fink was smashing a large, metal baseball bat against the walls and sending vases to the floor. He was shirtless, bleeding from various wounds and ,from the looks of it, he had been snipping at his hair again.

After a few sneak attacks and some verbal abuse, I found myself pinned against the kitchen floor. The bat was beneath the hall table and in its place was a large, bread knife. The injuries I had obtained before then were forgotten as I edge of the blade pressed against my neck. 

Above me, straddled upon my waist , Fink laughed manically. His eyes were wide with excitement, his lips pulled into a cruel grin and, for once, his face displayed his true age. 
Despite all effort, I couldn't stop myself trembling in fear. 

Slowly, Fink lent over my body, the blade still pressed to my neck and brought his lips to my ear.

“You like me on top, don't you Michael?” he whispered before quickly nipping my earlope. 
I bit my lip and begged my body not to react. 

He kissed me gently on the cheek, then on the tip of my nose and then my lips. He grew passionate and I couldn't help but allow him to. It was hot and wet and messy in all its intensity. 

“No.” I moaned , “I – we can't.”

I shifted beneath him carefully as he sat upright. The blade was pushed a little more into the flesh of my neck. 

“I could fuck you right here Michael. I would take you and fuck you like a rag doll,” He deliberately rubbed himself against my straining erection, “ I could make you my play thing if I wanted to.” 

Slowly he stood, all the while the blade still held firmly to my throat.

“Fact is; I don't want you.”

Tears filled my eyes at the relisation of his words. I tried to tell myself it was Fink, not Billie; but it still hurt. He brought his bare foot to rest on my chest, the blade cut into my neck and I bit back a sob.

"You aren't worth the bloodshed, Michael."

With that, he swiftly straightened up and made his way to the back yard. I lay still, staring at the plaster upon the ceiling and replaying the scene in my head. My body was shaking with lust or fear; I couldn't tell. 

The muffled sound of Fink's footfalls on the wooden porch moved in time with my heartbeat. I lay and listened. When they stopped, I got to my feet and, absent-mindedly, made a beeline for the backyard. 

There, upon the garden love seat, sat Fink. He was slouched, his head bowed and he was gently grazing the knife along the inner side of his left arm. I stood, motionless watching the shell of a man before me. 

It wasn't until he began to drag the blade roughly along his flesh that I bolted forward. 

“Fink-” 

I ceased his right arm but he roughly kicked me in the stomach sending me stumbling of the porch and on to the flowerbed below. I gritted my teeth as my back hit off something solid, most likely a stone. 

“No, Fink-” I pulled myself up onto my feet and wiped the dirt from my clothes, “Stop this!”

“Fink?” he chuckled, “Fink isn't here. Twitch isn't here. It's just me; Alone.”

Even as he cut deeper into his flesh, I couldn't move. The awe and shock of what was unfolding had me struck with fear.

“Billie? W-what are you doing? Come on man. Don't.” 

“This is pointless you know. Nothing is working. I'm stuck like this forever because of those little punk bastards!” He sighed ,” I have no life like this. I watched up try to rape my beautiful Adi and I listened as he told her everything.”

“I'm so fucking weak that I couldn't stop him.” he sharply slit his arm and I cringed, “ I can only see one way out of this.” Another, “And it's not pretty.” With that he dragged the blade from his palm to his elbow. 

I screamed, at least I think I did. The moment is blurred in my mind and even now I can't fully grasp what happened. It was as if all time had stopped. 

When the paramedics arrived , accompanied by Tre and the Jason's, I was on my knees in the flower bed, weeping into the lilys. 

“Come on now,” Tre took me by the arm and dragged me to my feet, “Lets follow them to the hospital.”

Billie Joe wasn't struggling or making a fuss; instead he lay still upon the stretcher. As we followed them out to the front of the house, the paramedics shouted things such as 'VP low' and 'Excessive blood loss.' 

Tre and Ade were talking, she was crying; but all I could hear was the ringing in my ears.