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I nod, unable to speak. We walk into the building, instantly I feel the urge to vomit. It hasn’t changed, it still smells like piss. Homeless people squat here all the time.
I try to go into the room where they are, but Max blocks me.
“Someone check for a pulse,” he says.
“Let me in,” I say as I hear the violence unfolding.
Max growls, “You don’t want to see her like this. She wouldn’t have wanted you to see her like this. It looks like we might be too late.”
He’s not a small guy. Max is humungous. I should never be able to move him, but adrenaline grants me superhuman strength. Punching him in the stomach, followed by a kick to the kneecap, I get past him. Then I see her. Tied to the bed as I did to Mercy. Her head hangs to the side. Blood runs down her arms and legs, a needle stuck into her vein. I’ve never been suicidal. But at this moment, I wish I had died here fifteen years ago. I wish her father had shot me in the head like he wanted to. It’s also the exact second that I realize I’m in love with her.Too little too late.
Sprinting over to the bed, I untie her. I check for her pulse, it’s there, but fuck, is it weak. Ivy has a mixture of fresh and dried blood on her arms, neck, legs, fucking everywhere.
“She’s not dead. Does somebody haveNarcan?”
I’m met with five confused expressions.
I look over to Matt on the floor with Mia’s foot on his chest, “Do you haveNarcan?”
“Inside my jacket pocket,” he huffs.
While Hunter retrieves the spray, I gently run my hand through Ivy’s sweaty and bloodied hair, “I’m sorry, Princess. I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t leave me.”
Hunter comes over with it, “What do we do with this?”
I reach my hand out to take it and spray it into her right nostril and then her left. I think all junkies know how to use Narcan. You can get it at the local drug store for under a hundred dollars. Oddly enough a lot of junkies get it for free from the Sheriff’s department. Staring between her and my watch, I keep a careful eye on the time knowing if she doesn’t respond in two to three minutes, I need to administer it again.
Hunter asks, “What exactly is happening right now?”
Sighing, I say, “I’m administering Narcan. It can reverse an overdose. Ask him what he gave her.”
He yells, “Mia, what did he give her?”
I glance back and see her crushing his throat with her boot, “Heroin and Fentanyl,” he whimpers.
Jesus fucking Christ. Heroin is bad enough, but Fentanyl makes it so much worse. Approximately ten thousand Americans die from heroin use every year. Over seventy thousand from Fentanyl. It doesn’t surprise me if he’s trying to hurt me that he’d give her exactly what I was on. Fentanyl is fifty times stronger than heroin.
I growl, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Hunter puts his hand on my shoulder, “In time, brother. Right now, let's focus on your girl.”
After three minutes Ivy hasn’t reacted at all, so I give her another dose.
“Someone call 9-1-1.”
After the fourth spray, her eyes open and she glances around the room, then spots me. Instantly, she begins trembling and screaming for somebody to get me away from her.
“Help!” She screams, “He’s a monster!”
Max grabs me by the back of my shirt and pulls me away from her.
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
I shake my head as the anxiety fights its way through my body, “I swear to you I’ve never hurt her. Everything we’ve ever done has been consensual.”
The paramedics and police rush through the door and quickly go to Ivy. Within minutes she’s on a stretcher and out the door. The police won’t let me go with her. Max appears to know the police officers and speaks with them privately. Then they leave. I have no idea what’s going on. No way is that protocol.
“What’s going on?” I ask Max when he walks over to me.
