With my mood dangerously teetering off a very steep cliff and my ankle throbbing from my fall, I hit the ‘decline call’ button on the console of Caidyn’s Jeep, silencing a third call from the warden’s office at Wallens Ridge in the past ten minutes before steering Caidyn’s Jeep down the off-ramp he refused to take six weeks ago. I’ve had enough heartache for today. One more thing will see all my marbles spilled. Considering I only have a handful left, I’d rather save Warden Mattue’s pompous rant for another time.
Max lifts his head when I pull into a disabled parking bay at the front of a twenty-four-hour pharmacy to investigate where we are, but he doesn’t follow me out when I peel out of the driver’s seat and hobble to the front door. He’s too depressed to function, and I plan to join him at Depressionville once I have the goods needed to fix both the gaping hole in the middle of my chest and my stupid ankle.
“I’ll be back in a minute, Max,” I mumble, mindful of the pledge I made only moments ago. I’m not supposed to leave him out of my sight, but if I were honest, I don’t see this being the first promise I break this afternoon.
Almost robotic-like, I pull open the door of the pharmacy and walk inside. I’m greeted by a smiling staff member two lengthy strides later. “Hello, how can I help you?”
Not having the time nor the patience to ask politely, I snap out, “Is it possible to have a prescription filled without having the paperwork with me?”
The man I’d guess to be in his mid-thirties cocks a brow. “That depends. Was your original prescription filled here?” When I lift my head, he smiles. “And is your physician local?”
His smile tapers when I shake my head. “He’s from Hopeton.”
“Hopeton?” he confirms, his brow raising more in suspicion than eagerness to help. “In Florida?” When I dip my chin, the demeanor on his face changes in an instant. He’s no longer flirty and helpful. He looks pissed and scared. “What medication are you after?”
I swallow the brick in my throat before replying, “Oxycodone.”
“Right.” He tries to shut down the disdain on his face, but there’s no denying it. “Ifyou have a prescription, it will come up in the system.” He walks around the counter, stopping once he reaches an outdated computer. “What is the name of the patient?”
“Demi.” I spell it out for him in case he is as deaf as he is rude. “Petretti. P-E-T—”
My words snag halfway up my throat when his eyes snap to mine. “Petretti?”
I don’t need to nod. The fear forming in his eyes tells me he’s familiar with my last name. It’s the same petrified glint Donny had when my uncle arrived at his pizzeria in the middle of the night to ‘negotiate.’ It’s the look of a man with a ton to lose but with no ability to alter the outcome.
After slamming shut the keyboard his fingers were busily tapping on only seconds ago, he walks back around to my side of the counter. “We don’t stock oxycodone here.”
When he grabs my arm to walk me to the door, I yank myself out of his hold. It sends pain rocketing up my leg, but I refuse to be roughly handled by a stranger. “I have a prescription—”
“That will not be served here.”
He all but shoves me out the door before he latches the lock into place, then spins the open sign to closed. He stops dragging his eyes over the empty parking lot when I slam my fist on the glass in annoyance. I’m in pain, and I have a current prescription for painkillers, so how can he deny my business?
My anger switches to regret when he begs, “Please don’t tell him you came here. We are a legitimate business. I swear to you. We can’t afford to go under a second time.”
“I’m not—”
“Please,” he begs again, too scared to give me the chance to speak.
Nodding, I take a step back. The fear pulsating out of him weakens when it dawns on him that I’m retreating. He’s so clutched by panic, he has no clue I’m not the enemy. His disbelief doubles the clamminess slicking my skin and has me acting so erratically, I dive into Caidyn’s Jeep without taking into consideration my throbbing ankle. The only good that comes from it is Max’s attention when he hears the whimper I couldn’t hold in. He jumps into the front passenger seat before he licks one side of my face. His reminder that he still loves me coats my cheek with slobber, giving me the perfect cover for the handful of salty blobs I wish weren’t splashing down my face.
“I’ll take you to visit her one day, Max. I just need to get my head screwed on straight first.”
Proof he can understand me is undeniable when he does a second lick up my cheek. He then rests his slobbery jowls on my thigh, where they would remain if it weren’t for the quickest tap of knuckles on the steel next to my head.
The police officer who tried to woo me months ago has his hip propped on the driver’s side door of Caidyn’s Jeep. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he’s smirking smugly. “You do know I could fine you for leaving an animal in the car unattended. It’s at least eighty today. Most likely one hundred in there.”
Guilt is the main emotion highlighted in my reply, even with me trying to weasel myself out of the stupid situation I find myself in. “It isn’t like I had any other choice. He refused to leave the car, and I had to get…” My words trail off when I realize I don’t have to explain myself to him. He cheats on his wife, who lovingly packs his lunch every morning. He couldn’t possibly understand the hell I’ve been through today. “If you want to fine me, fine me. I don’t care.Especially not after the day I’ve had.”
It dawns on me that I said my last sentence out loud when he asks, “What happened today?”
“Nothing. I just…” Realizing I need to give him something to get him off my back, I blubber out. “I fell and twisted my ankle.”
“Again?” he says with a chuckle. “Or is that your go-to excuse to cover your addiction to painkillers?” I shouldn’t be able to hear his mocking rile over Max’s growl warning he’s overstayed his welcome. Unfortunately, I hear both his snarky comment and his even more venomous second jab. “How long have you been taking oxycodone? From your jittery response and the desperation in your eyes, I’m going to say since you sprained your ankle in the alleyway bordering KC’s gym.”
With my mood in a ditch, I get bitchy. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I didn’t justsprainmy ankle. I tore a ligament. It was very painful.”
He nods before twisting his lips. “I’m sure it was… when it happened.”
