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Jesus Christ.
“Ali and I got put in foster care, the both of us haunted, lying awake every night, wondering if one day he was going to come back and try to finish us off.” She glanced at the pills, and every muscle in my body tensed, wondering if I should just tackle her and get her the hell out of there.
But I didn’t want to take away her fight. I wanted her to walk away from this moment by herself because she had the strength to, not because I had to drag her out.
“You started taking oxycodone to help you sleep,” I said, finally putting the pieces together.
“I got addicted,” she confirmed, releasing a shaky laugh that sent a fucking chill down my spine. “But you know what’s funny? I relied on these pills for almost a year to help me sleep. They were the only thing that would knock me out at night, but I was still so tired the next day. Then, when we learned about oxy in nursing school, I found out that even though it was putting me to sleep, the actual sleep I was getting was horrible.”
She laughed again, shaking her head.
“The pills were just making me more tired and more anxious, and I kept thinking the fix for that was to take more pills because the pills would help me sleep and make me feel better. Then the next day, the same fucking thing. Over and fucking over again!”
The anger that roared from inside her made her chest heave, and she ran her fingers through her hair, sweeping it back from her face, although some of it clung to the little beads of sweat around her hairline.
I cleared my throat, not sure how to approach the question but knowing it needed to be asked. “Have you taken any?”
That fierce look in her eyes fell away almost instantly, her body slumping back against the bathroom wall as we both once again eyed the drugs on the counter. “No,” she whispered, though I barely caught it before she cleared her throat and tried again. “No. I haven’t, but I wanted to. God, I actually almost did!”
She reached out suddenly, her shaking hands fighting to open the bag. I was poised, ready to grab them before she could put them into her mouth, but instead, she upended the tiny bag, shaking it aggressively over the toilet before slamming her hand on the lever to flush them, over and over and over again.
“I’m just… I can’t believe I almost let it win again.” She pressed her fingers into her already dark and sunken eyes, rubbing at them for a second before finally looking up at me again. “I’m just so tired. I’ve been lying awake at night, letting my mind get to me, but this time, instead of expecting my dad’s face in the darkness coming after me, I’m just waiting for Vince.”
I took a step forward. “You know I’m not going to let him get to you,” I growled, reaching out and curling my hand around her jaw when she tried to look away. Reluctantly, her eyes met mine again. “Do you hear me?”
“Whether you say that or not, it doesn’t stop my mind running wild when I’m alone at night, thinking I can hear someone moving in the shadows.” Another tear snuck out the corner of her eye while she looked up at me. “It’s the sleep. Without it, I start to feel like I’m going crazy… hearing things, seeing things, and doing shit I would never usually do because I feel so damn weak.”
That was it. I was done watching her crumble.
With one step forward, I had her off the floor and wrapped up in my arms, her legs circling my waist. I held her tight, trying to keep from hurting her as her body shook violently, each heartbreaking sob followed by a desperate gasp for air.
This was real pain. This was the kind of pain that caused people to hurt themselves and take their own lives.
It was the kind of pain that seemed inescapable because the solution hurt you just as much as the problem.
That was addiction.
Something I never in a million years would have suspected Shay had suffered because of how well she’d always managed to put on a happy face, though now that I knew, a lot of other things made sense. Refusing painkillers when she had her arm stitched up. The way she’d gotten so invested in Alice, knowing that Vince had probably been using drugs to control her.
Carrying Shay from the bathroom, I walked down the hallway and into my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me. “I’m gonna lay you down,” I murmured into her ear as I leaned over the bed and eased her onto the comforter. She let go of me, but it wasn’t without hesitation, her hands lingering in my hair as I braced my body over her.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to her forehead and murmuring, “Trust me. Okay?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “You say that a lot.”
“And have I ever been wrong?”
Her grip tightened, and there was a breath in time where I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing.
But I was following my gut.
Letting it lead.
I’d been fighting it for a while now when it came to Shay, but it was time to throw a fuck it to the wind because how could I keep asking her to trust me when I didn’t even trust myself?
She finally let me go, and I had to summon all my strength to pull away, but there were a few things that needed to be done.
“Take off your jeans and sweatshirt and get under the blankets,” I told her as I walked across the room to the window. I pulled the curtains across, holding them a little longer as I waited for the shuffling behind me to stop.
