Page 95 of Relapse

I gasped in a breath, squinting my eyes closed once more. Hot tears streamed down my face.

I was in agony.

The memories of the night before spun through my mind. I remembered the fight and metal strike that David had delivered to my ribs all too well.

The urge to numb the pain was alarming. My panic was setting in just thinking about enduring it longer than I needed to.

Every ounce of strength in my body worked together to push myself upwards. Grunting, I clutched my bandaged torso, shakily rising to my feet. Each step felt like my chest was going to split apart. I stumbled into the bathroom, disoriented.

The reflection that grimaced back from the slick slab of glass was a face I was used to. I couldn’t remember a time when I entered this bathroom looking normal. Each time it was like I was seeing myself closer and closer to a grave.

This pain coursed through me and I groaned, fumbling through the drawers for medication. Anything to put an ease to this.

My fingers came in contact with the bottle of my desire and I dumped the contents into the sink below. Thirteen little white faces stared back up at me, calling to me with promise of relief. I snatched up three, swallowing them dry, almost choking as I did so. The pain in my throat was another level of hell, and I hadn’t realized how bad it was until I had tried to swallow. I turned on my sink without thinking, cupping water into my hands and slurping it up greedily to try and wash away the aftertaste and wedged pills in my throat.

By the time the water was shut off, half of my pain killer collection had been drowned. White powder clouded the sink, only a few whole pills were left unspoiled. I cursed, scooping up the loose goopy substance with my fingers and gulped it down. I retched, barely holding it down. The medicine was two more seconds from resurfacing.

Once the nausea settled, I leaned against the sink. For a while I just closed my eyes, listening to my ragged breath and the feeling of my heart hammering in my chest. It sounded like a broken melody.

Memories of last night swam into my vision. I had been so ready to die.

“Just fucking kill me already!”

So ready for that peaceful darkness and a body that didn’t have to feel anymore suffering.

Why me?

David’s voice answered me back in my head.

Because no one truly wants you.

You’re only good for one thing. That’s all anyone has ever seen in you.

I stared into the mirror. My own eyes looked evil, unforgiving. A soulless bastard.

Maybe that was all I was. A bastard.

I had no father.

No legacy.

No destiny.

No hope.

Delane’s face crossed my mind. She had been a symbol of my hope, but now, she was gone. I couldn’t lean on her. She was battling sorrow of her own, and I’d never put my problems before her, especially during this time.

Emerging from the bathroom, my eyes settled on a lump under the covers. My bed wasn’t empty.

Kim. I cringed at the sight of her.

I hadn’t cared about manipulating her. I still didn't.

I was a dick who never wanted to see her face again. Just looking at her innocent features disgusted me.

She had seemed inexperienced, and part of me considered if she had been a virgin. I couldn’t force myself to care. My own father had been my first. She was lucky. She was living the dream.

Without remorse, I fired her, leaving a Hansen Company Notice next to her sleeping form on the bed. She’d wake up to an empty bed, empty room, and read the paper asking her to pack her belongings and leave the premises. She’d realize that she was no longer wanted for the position here. She would be gone—out. Without a job or place to live.