AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’ll figure it out. Get a pen, open the book, and put the two of them together—something will come.”
The small book felt heavy, and I continued to glare at it as I placed it on the bedside table. I felt like the damn thing was looking at me, and I kept glancing at the spine for little blinking eyes.
“There’s no way I can afford the shrink,” I said.
“Liam, you’re making excuses.”
“I’m not.” I shook my head as I argued. “I don’t make much anyway; rent is due this weekend, and I blew my cash on smack. I don’t want anyone calling in the Teague cash cavalry, either. I’m going to need to make more money for the…the baby. I can’t even pay for this little ‘night on the town’ here.”
Baynor eyed me for a minute before opening his mouth.
“You were brought here in the midst of a panic attack,” he said. “I determined you needed to be held for evaluation, so there’s no charge for the hospital stay. Your income level qualifies you for assistance with the therapy, including the first ten sessions at no charge. You know you can get other government assistance, too.”
“Welfare? Bullshit.”
“You could.”
“I don’t take handouts like that. Never have.”
“Well, I’m just telling you that you could,” he repeated. “Don’t forget about food stamps and WIC, too. Tria is going to need that kind of help while she’s pregnant and after the baby is born.”
I started tapping my fingers uncontrollably against the edge of the bed. I hadn’t thought about assistance for that particular reason. Tria needed to be as healthy as possible so she…she…so nothing happened to her. The baby would need more shit than I was going to be able to give it on a fighter’s under-the-table pay.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Think about it,” Baynor said. “I’m going to give you a couple of prescriptions to try out as well. I have some samples that should keep you going awhile.”
“What are they? I asked.
“One is to help with withdrawal symptoms,” he informed me. “I don’t want to give you anything too strong, because even though your relapse was relatively short, you’re still in a precarious position. I’m giving you a prescription for anti-anxiety as well. I don’t have any samples, but you can get this one in generic form for about five dollars at that clinic a few blocks from your apartment. That should help keep you stable as well.”
“I’m not going to fuck up again,” I told him. “I can’t.”
“I know you feel that way right now,” Baynor said with a nod, “but when you are back home and trying to determine how you are going to cope with all of this, you may feel differently. These can help you get over the rough spots, but I want you to call me each time before taking one. At least until we get you set up with the therapist.”
I agreed to do as he said because I knew that was what I had to do.
*****
Walking back into my apartment felt weird. Once I got there and opened the door, it was even worse than I thought it would be.
Aside from the obvious emptiness of the whole place without Tria’s stuff and her presence, it was still totally destroyed. Apparently, even after throwing shit around when I realized she was gone, I had further trashed the place during my heroin binge.
I had to step carefully through the mess. There was so much stuff lying around, I figured my jacket and other stuff I brought back from the hospital wasn’t going to make it any worse, so I dumped them in the living room and just made me way to bed.
Stripping down to my boxers, I dropped the clothes on the floor and fell into the bed. Even though I had basically spent the last couple of days doing nothing but sitting in a hospital room and talking, I felt like I had been at the gym constantly. My head ached, my muscles ached, and I felt like someone had shoved a bunch of nails into my guts.
Reaching out, I grabbed Tria’s pillow and pulled it close to me. Her scent had vanished, but the pillow was better than nothing. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep a little. I was going to have to work in a few hours, but sleep wouldn’t come. I tucked my face against the pillow, but it wasn’t the same as tucking my face into her shoulder or her hair.
I squeezed hard, holding the pillow against my chest as tightly as I could, but it just didn’t help. Even with the slight reminder of her presence, it wasn’t helping me sleep in the least.
I needed her there—her presence, her warmth.
Shoving the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, I growled in frustration before shoving myself up and out of the bed. I stomped into the living room and grabbed my cigarettes. Deciding I just didn’t give a shit, I flopped down in the middle of the floor and lit up. I tried not to think, but it just didn’t work. There were so many different pitfalls in front of me, I knew there was no way I could manage to avoid them all. I was going to fall, and there wasn’t anyone around to catch me.
As much as I wanted to blame someone else—hell, anyone else—for that fact, I knew who was really at fault. I didn’t even need to go find a mirror. Yolanda had picked me up too many times in the past, and she had made it pretty damn clear after the last time that it wasn’t going to happen again. Yeah, that had been years ago, but she wasn’t one to go back on her word.
Not like I had.
