Raw - Aurora Belle - Страница 42
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Scowling, I turn on my heel and stalk out the room.
Never should’ve brought her here.
My heavy lids try to open, but the weight of them forces me to stop. A cool breeze wafts over my hot body, providing little relief, but still feeling good nonetheless. A pinching on my hand makes my brows knit. It feels like I’m being stung by a bee.
Willing my arms to lift, I manage to slowly reach for the sore area on top of my hand to feel bumpy plastic. My brow furrows more. That’s when I hear someone speak by my bedside, “She’s waking up. Yeah. I don’t know. Okay.”
Opening one eye to peek out at my visitor, I see Happy watching me through a cautious gaze.
The effort to open that eye seems to have taken all my energy with it. Closing my eye and ceasing all movement, I mumble, “Sick.”
I feel Happy lean closer and brush the hair stuck to my forehead, “I know, doll. You’re better some. Not so feverish. So that’s good.”
Swallowing hard, I whisper, “Twitch.”
Happy hesitates a moment before leaning even closer and whispering, “He’ll be home soon. ‘Kay?”
My body heavy, I don’t respond. Even a nod of my head would be too much.
I want Twitch.
Sitting up in bed, the doc looks over me. He goes over the motions and I look at the digital clock on the nightstand.
4:56pm.
I’ve been awake an hour. I’ve been told that I was dehydrated and needed two IV drip infusions. I have to admit after I managed to ignore the pinching, the IV was doing its job. I feel better already.
But one thing is missing.
Or I should say, one person.
The room dimly lit by lamplight, I turn to see Happy watching TV in the chair beside the bed.
I feel much better now. I’m no longer dehydrated and have eaten. The doc gave me parting instructions, which he said he would write down for me. He shot me a glare as he handed me the folded paper. Then he was gone.
As soon as he left, I opened the note and read. The top of the paper had printed Doctor’s recommendation to patient. Underneath that was scrawled:
Don’t do cocaine.
My face flamed. I don’t exactly remember what happened last night, but I do remember enough to cringe and wince at my actions. My heart races. There’s no way around it. I’m going to lose my job. I won’t pass this year’s random drug test.
And I blame Twitch.
His mess of a life has become my mess.
Turning to the digital clock on the nightstand, I stare at the display.
22:45pm and he’s still not home.
Fucking coward.
Hugging myself around the knees, I say quietly, “I’d like to go home now.”
I feel Happy’s eyes on me. He sighs, “You don’t have to, Lex. You can stay—”
I cut him off. “I’d like to go home. If you can arrange a car, good. If you can’t, I’ll catch a taxi.”
He scoffs, “Don’t even think about it, girl. I’ll drive you myself.”
Within ten minutes, my miserable ass is driving away from the man I thought could change.
Would change.
I guess I was wrong.
One week later…
To say I’m jumpy is an understatement.
It’s been a week since I saw Twitch. A week since I was sick. A week since I took cocaine for the first time.
Sitting behind my desk, I listen to Charlie without really listening to him. Small bits of the conversation drift in and out of my consciousness. “Yearly drug test… Every six months… Randomly… Tomorrow afternoon… Compulsory… Will result in immediate termination… Nothing to worry about.”
My heart sinks.
Time to face the facts.
Tomorrow is the day I lose my job. A job I worked my ass off to get. A job I love with all my heart.
Charlie searches my face. He frowns, “Lex, I know we’re not supposed to get personal at work, but I…” He sighs. “…I just want to ask if everything’s okay. You haven’t been yourself lately. I rarely see you smile anymore. I’m worried about you.”
Standing abruptly, I wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my skirt. Putting on my brightest smile, I tell him, “I’m fine. Really. I just haven’t been sleeping well lately. I have a lot on my mind.”
Charlie throws me a sympathetic smile. “Okay. Well, you know you can talk to me anytime.”
Standing, he takes his leave and I stand behind my desk, brain blank.
The past week has been shitty. Shitty because I felt ill most days, and shitty because Twitch decided he is sick of playing with me.
But didn’t have the guts to tell me himself. I’ve been waiting a week for him to show up in my room or text me. I haven’t even felt him watching me. He’s just…gone.
I realize the cocaine thing was bad and I shouldn’t have done that, but in all seriousness, I don’t even remember doing it.
I mean, me? Doing cocaine? I-I don’t know what happened.
That’s just not like me.
I’ve avoided Nikki and Dave as much as humanly possible. They’ve been calling every day asking if we can get together, but I’ve told them that I haven’t been well and didn’t want to pass my bug on. Dave seemed mollified. Nikki? Not so much.
She knows. She always knows when something’s happened.
And that asshole. That fucking asshole.
Ditching me like yesterday’s trash.
I tell myself that I don’t care and that it’s much better this way. Cutting ties without leaving a mess. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cut me deep.
I seem to be going through the stages of grief.
I’ve already been through the first step, denial and isolation, and have moved up to stage two, anger. And I’m angry right now.
How dare he? Who does he think he is? I don’t need him.
Maybe if you just call him…?
Oh hell. I’m already on the verge of step three. Bargaining.
I don’t care who he is, I’m not calling him. I haven’t done anything wrong!
Sitting back down behind my desk, I text Nikki and Dave, asking them to meet me tonight.
I need a girl’s night.
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