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I just wanted things to be like they used to be when I mattered. It would never go back. The only other option was to numb the pain. I knew a girl from school, Gina, a complete party animal with access to what I needed. Her mom and my real mom had been friends before she went to prison. Gina had everything you could imagine and more. Uppers, downers, even hard drugs, I knew I’d never touch heroin, cocaine, meth, and fentanyl. I just wanted the Oxy. I didn’t need any of the hard stuff, only more of what the doctors had prescribed me. It wasn’t drugs, it was medicine.
Finally, Mercy comes and knocks on my door to tell me, she and Liam are going to bed. Every night it’s the same, but she doesn’t stop for some reason. Knock. Knock.
“What?”
“Can I come in?” She asks.
“Nope.”
“Ivy, you can’t shut me out forever.”
Just fucking watch me. I will shut her out forever. I was invisible to her until the third cancer scare of my life. Until the day we got that diagnosis, she was so focused on fucking Riley that she couldn’t see straight. It wasn’t until Mercy thought I might die once again, that she decided to try. Fuck that.
After several minutes she gives up.
“We’re going to bed. See you in the morning.”
I strip out of my pajamas so I can get dressed into regular clothes before I go out. Someone knocks on my door. I sigh in annoyance, “Who is it?”
“Nash.”
What the hell is he doing knocking on my door? “Coming.”
He opens the door with wide eyes staring at my naked body.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
His gaze travels the length of my body, “You said to come in.”
I try to cover myself with my t-shirt as he smirks at me.
“I said COMING! Not, come in.”
Nash licks his lips slowly, “My mistake, Princess.”
The sound of his voice travels to my core. The way he says princess is different from my dad's. It’s dark, gravely, and drips with sexuality.
Ugh. I must remember, I hate him.
“Why are you in my bedroom, Rapist?”
He stalks over to me, hangs his head down, his face nearly touching my neck when he growls, “I wanted to check on you and make sure you’re being a good girl. Are you being a good girl, Princess?”
My breath hitches in my throat, and a small whimper escapes, but I don’t know why, “Probably not. I’m not a good girl by nature.”
He chuckles, “You’ll learn.”
Barely breathing, I say, “Yeah? Who is going to teach me?”
“Me,” he growls.
Backing away from me, he barks, “Get dressed.”
I expect him to leave as I put my clothes on, but he yanks my dresser drawers open and begins rifling through my belongings.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he arches an eyebrow, “Don’t fucking worry about it, Junkie.”
