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The giant house is surrounded by gardens as far as the eye can see. The flowers tended to by a groundskeeper. I’ve found myself walking between the flower beds often, noting down which flowers they have and which ones they don’t.
My mind drifts to my own small garden back at the compound. I haven’t tended to it in what feels like forever and I itch to be able to plant something, to dig my fingers into the soil.
A light knock on the door draws my attention and I turn around.
“Group session,” a small female voice calls and I heave a breath.
I’ve been able to get away without talking in the group sessions but I know it won’t be much longer before I have to talk. After all, they are group sessions that require input from everyone.
I pick up my sweater off the chair that points to the window and pull it over my head before I walk out of my room.
I make sure to shut the door behind me as I walk down the bright yellow hallway and down the light wooden staircase that flows down into the middle of a grand foyer. The place used to be owned by some high society people and passed down through the generations until the current owner opened up a rehab facility in the giant home.
I haven’t seen him yet, but I’ve heard plenty of talk about him and this place, apparently, this is a popular facility simply because of him and all that he’s done to help addicts get clean.
I walk through the dining hall that looks out onto the vast gardens and into the small room that adjoins it where the group sessions are held. There’s six people gathered on chairs in a circle, one of them being the therapist, Yvonne.
“Katherine.” She smiles.
“Kitty,” I tell her, for what feels like the hundredth time as I sit down.
“Ah, yes, sorry.” Her lips lift up into a soft smile and she turns to the group as a whole. “Now that we’re all here let’s go around the group, tell everyone on a scale of one to ten how hard today has been for you so far.”
She nods her head to the first person and they proceed to tell her that today is a five, they’re all in the middle range until she gets to me.
“Three,” I tell her, pulling the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands as I look down at the floor.
“Care to tell us why?”
“Not really.”
“Kitty, this is a group session for a reason. You need to share what you’re feeling.”
I huff out a breath, looking out of the windows that line the wall and look out into the gardens. I watch the groundskeeper as he lifts up a wheelbarrow and pushes it across the grass.
“I miss my plants,” I whisper, not looking back at Yvonne. “I miss training, I miss my friends.” I take a deep breath and lift my head to look into her deep blue eyes. “I miss Charlie.”
“Charlie?” she asks.
I don’t answer her, I just look back out of the window and sigh. I miss his voice, I miss the way my body fits against his, but most of all, I miss the way he makes me feel.
My arms wrap around my middle as I hold myself, trying to keep myself together enough to see the session through.
I just need to sit here, not saying another word until they’ve all poured their hearts out. I just need to listen and get this over with and stop thinking about the pills.
My hands shake as I bring them back to my lap, knowing that it’s one of my side effects of stopping the pills. Today is the first day that I didn’t wake up and throw my guts up down the toilet bowl, so I’d say that’s a win, a small win, but a win nonetheless.
I was warned when I first checked in that I’d have some side effects if I went cold turkey, but I couldn’t start taking the lower dose they wanted to prescribe, I needed off them before they ruined my life for good.
Eight weeks. That’s how long I have to be here for and I’m determined to be clean by the time I leave.
I’ve been watching and waiting since the day that Jonny told me Kitty’s supplier was Joel. I know he expected me to go straight to him, but I’m not that stupid.
I like to be unpredictable, and this, waiting and watching, that’s being unpredictable. I should arrest him, take him to the station and lock him up, but all that will do is take him off the streets for a couple of years and when he gets out, he’ll be right back to his old tricks again.
I need to get him out of here for good and it won’t be legal by any stretch of the imagination.
A knock on my window has my hand reaching for my gun, but when I look up, I see Luke’s face.
