Unmedicated
Hunter
“Want me to suck your dick?" A trashy club whore waltzed up to me, grazing her hand up my thigh as I lounged on the couch near the pool tables of the club I frequented.
The only one I wanted sucking my dick was Scarlett, and I was going to see her once I left the club. But I couldn't stop thinking about her—about everything. I felt so much fucking anger inside as I thought about the others being with her, touching her, having her. My hand trembled as I gripped the beer bottle tighter.
I raised the bottle of beer to my lips, tilting it back and shaking my head in disgust. No words were necessary; her hatred was immediate, and she stalked off in a huff towards Vinney at thebar. I took a moment to survey the club, noting the changes that had taken place during my time in prison. It's like I didn't recognize anyone or anything, and I was struggling to feel like I belonged here anymore.
Among the crowd, I spotted Kellin, deep in conversation with what appeared to be a poorly disguised undercover agent—likely a fed. I knew that part of his early parole involved collaboration with the feds on cybercrime, but something about this felt unsettling. His presence here suggested he was no longer with Scarlett, prompting me to finish my beer, grab my jacket, and dart out the side door towards my bike.
By the time I reached the church where she lived, night had fallen; the air was crisp, and I could see my breath with each exhale. The cold felt refreshing against my heated skin. I parked my bike beneath her bedroom window, a playful taunt, then set the kickstand and left my helmet on the seat. I settled onto the familiar steps, expecting her to emerge at any moment as she usually did. But tonight felt different—she didn’t come out.
I flicked my cigarette butt toward the makeshift graveyard in the back, shaking my head at the grip those men had on her. Trying the doorknob, I was surprised when it turned without resistance; Scarlett never left her door unlocked, especially not at night. Drawing my gun, I quietly entered the church, straining to make sense of muffled sobs that battled against the loud volume of the TV.
Pushing her bedroom door open slightly, I heard the sobs grow more pronounced. I kicked the door open wider and aimed my gun at her, finding Scarlett in the dark, in the middle of her bed, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that barely covered her ass. She sat cross-legged, rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself. On her nightstand, a line of pill bottles sat untouched, telling me all I needed to know. I recognized the problem, and I was determined to set it right.
“Doc,” I called out sharply, letting the urgency in my voice slice through the haze of her anguish.
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, lost, wide, and glassy. For a moment, she seemed to focus, but just as quickly, the shadows of despair returned to cloud her features, and darkness circled her eyes.
“Please, don’t,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Just… just go.”
“No,” I said firmly, taking a step forward while keeping my gun trained at the floor. “I’m not leaving you like this. Not again.”
“Why do you care?” she choked, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m a fucking mess. You should have stayed away. You’re just going to get hurt.”
“Because I care, Scar.” I took another cautious step closer, visualizing the distance between us as a shield against the pain that had woven its way into her skin. “You don't get to fucking push me away like this.”
Her eyes darted to the open pill bottles, and I felt my chest tighten. “You don’t understand,” she croaked, a tremor in her voice. “They don’t let me go. I can’t—”
“What are these?” I interrupted, gesturing at the bottles while keeping my voice steady. “You need these, don't you?”
A sardonic laugh bubbled out of her, humorless and broken. "The world I knew is gone, and I’m just a shadow now. The pills make me feel worse but if I don't take them, this is what happens. I woke up covered in blood and I don't know whose it was.”
I frowned at her words and took another step closer, my instincts screaming for me to move toward her, but the gun in my hand felt heavy, reminding me of the line I had to walk. I had to reach out, to let her know she didn’t fight alone anymore.
“No, you’re not a shadow. You’re still in there. I see you.”
She scoffed, her voice slicing through the air. “Yeah, a shadow with the ghosts that haunt me? A shadow of the constant reminders of who I used to be? I want to fucking scream, but there’s no point anymore.”
I dropped to my knees beside the bed, pulling her close to me. My heart pounded in my chest as I slid between her parted legs that dangled off the edge of the bed. “Then scream. Yell all the pain out until it echoes into the void. Let it out, Scarlett. Don’t bottle it up. You’re alive, and there’s still so fucking much in you.”
Slowly, she unraveled; her sobs became deeper, more guttural, like someone peeling the layers of a wound that had festered for too long. After what felt like an eternity, her gaze finally held mine with a mix of fear and uncertainty.
“I've got you,” I promised, fear for her flooding me as I put the gun down and reached for her trembling, cold hand.
Scarlett stared at our entwined fingers, a fragile flicker of hope igniting in her eyes. “You really mean it?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, my heart racing as I watched her walls begin to crack. “I promise.”
As she took a deep breath, for the first time in what felt like fucking months, the darkness in her eyes receded slightly. I carefully read the labels on each pill bottle she refused to touch, pouring out the right dose into the palm of my hand. All I had to wash them down with was the Jameson in my grandfather's flask my father gave me before he was put to death after serving twenty years on death row.
Scarlett sucked the liquor down like water, but she swallowed each pill without a fit. I scooped her into my arms as the liquor began to run through her, loosening her up on the way to the bathroom. I laid her in the massive jet tub and pulled the dirty shirt off of her and started the water so she wasn't shaking and cold just sitting there, naked in front of me.
She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes already glazed over, and I wasn't sure if it was from the booze or the pills, but I sure as fuck loved the way she looked at me. Handing me a bottle of bubble bath, I twisted off the top and dumped a lot in, smelling the soothing aroma of vanilla and lavender engulf the steamed bathroom. And once the water was high enough, I turned it off and sat on the edge, gently washing Scarlett’s fragile body while all she did was look at me like she couldn't believe I was bathing her.
She slid closer, putting her hands on my knees, her tongue gliding across her lips. Droplets of water ran down her face, slowly traveling down over her hardened nipples until they landed in the new bubbly water. Her eyes dropped to my lap and she licked her lips again, her perfectly shaped brow raising in question.
