Authors: Winter Scott
Days passed as I came in and out of consciousness. I thought I was going to die at every moment. But Brody was there to keep my straight.
I could barely keep down the tacos that Brody brought me. I was so hungry but the withdrawals were kicking my ass. They weren't as bad as the night before but I didn't know how I was going to make it out of this alive.
That night, the aching and shaking subsided and I was able to get some real sleep. The next morning, I woke up feeling almost normal again. Almost. The overwhelming need for heroin was still there but it was somewhat more manageable. I had thrown away my life for a drug and now was the time to get it back.
“How are you feeling?” Brody asked as he swaggered into the room, carrying a box.
I rubbed my eyes and squinted against the sunlight coming through the blinds. “Feels like a nasty hangover but not feeling like I'm going to implode at any moment.”
“I'm glad to hear.” Brody set the box down at the foot of the bed. “Here's your stuff from that dump you called home.”
I looked around at the holes in the stained walls. “You shouldn't be talking. Your place ain't much better.”
Brody almost fell over laughing. His smile was contagious. “I'm going to make some breakfast, if you want some.”
“I'd like that very much.” I stood up and the handcuffs preventing me from getting very far. I fell right back down on the bed.
“I guess you won't be needing those anymore.” Brody produced a set a keys and fit a skinny one into the cuffs. My wrist was red but not too sore.
I realized what Brody had done for me. He had saved me from the deepest darkest hole. I could finally be me again.
“Umm, I wanted to tell you thank you.” I couldn't even make eye contact with him.
“For what? Kidnapping and almost torturing you?”
I chuckled. “For getting me through the withdrawals. If you hadn't come along. I'd still be in that nasty building, shooting that junk into my veins.” I looked down at the track marks on the inside of my arms. Would those ever go away? Would I always be that junkie?
“Don't mention it,” he replied. “I couldn't see a pretty girl like yourself waste away in a place like that.” I knew he must've been lying because the drugs had destroyed my looks. I had avoided mirrors on purpose just so I didn't have to see the damage it had done to me.
Brody left me alone in the room with the box of my stuff. I had sold almost all my belongings to get a fix. I had no idea what Brody could have brought over from my old place. There was nothing left. I peeked inside to find brand new clothes: jeans, shirts, panties, bras, and socks. They were all my size.
How did he know?
Below the clothes was a small makeup kit. Nothing fancy but all the basics: eyeliner, eyeshadow, foundation, and lipstick. I didn't even remember the last time I woke up and actually put makeup on. It was probably the night of the college party when my whole life went down the toilet.
I set the contents of the box to the side and at the very bottom was a crumpled-up photo. Tears began streaming down my cheeks.
How did Brody even find this?
It was a picture of my parents and me at the Grand Canyon when I was around seven years old. I had kept it under my dirty mattress and had forgotten all about it. I had sold my purse to a pawn shop for something like five dollars and that photo was the only thing I kept.
My parents wanted to go on a vacation to the Grand Canyon and I thought it was going to be the most boring road trip of my life. I complained the whole way there and my mom and dad were arguing with each other. It was was one of those times I wished I was old enough to stay home by myself.
But when we got to the Grand Canyon, everybody stopped. All we did was stare out into the vastness and appreciate what we had. The canyon was so damn big. Why didn't anybody tell me? We got a kid to take our picture and I had that photo pinned on my wall all the way up to college.
When I got into drugs, I knew my parents were looking for me. I had just up and left, searching for my next fix. I knew I had to live alone. There was no way, I could hide my drug habit from them. And if they ever found out, the disappointment in their eyes would kill me. One day, I spotted one of those missing person flyers nailed to a telephone pole. It was about me.
I almost contacted them that day. I didn't want them thinking I was dead. I wanted to tell them that I was perfectly safe and we'd see each other again someday. But I figured they were better off knowing that I was dead than finding out what their daughter had become.
I wiped the tears away and placed the photo on the nightstand. I took the brand new clothes and the makeup kit into the bathroom. If you ever wondered what a boy's bathroom looked like if he has no one to clean up after him, Brody's bathroom was it. The counters had never been cleaned, cardboard toilet paper rolls were overflowing out of the wastebasket, and hair clippings filled the sink. I would've gagged if I was the Erica from awhile back. But this Erica didn't even use a bathroom anymore. She just pissed and shit in whatever corner was the dirtiest. So I couldn't complain.
I walked in front of the mirror with my eyes tightly shut. I was terrified of what I'd see in the reflection. I opened my eyes and choked back the tears. I'd lost so much weight. My cheeks had no color and my eyes were all sunken in and dark. My hair was in knots and I was surprised it wasn't much worse since I never brushed my hair anymore.
I slipped out of my sweat-stained clothes and tossed them on top of the trash in the wastebasket. I'd never wear those again. I inspected my body in the mirror and was shocked. My figure wasn't too bad. I had lost a bunch of weight but it was in all the right places. My breasts looked even bigger now and you could see the beginnings of my collarbone.
I turned on the shower and waited until it was scalding hot. It was going to take a lot of cleaning to get all this dirt and grime off. The steam filled the bathroom as I stepped under the water. I couldn't even remember the last time I actually bathed myself. The warm water hit my head and cascaded down, instantly relaxing me. The water at the bottom of the tub turned a light brown from all the dirt.
I don't even know how long I stayed under that hot water, trying to forget all the wrong choices I'd made. My parents probably believed I was dead. The tears came back again in full force. I dropped to my knees and cried my heart out until there was nothing left. It was all my fault. I couldn't blame Rebecca or the drugs. It was all my choice. Now I needed to make up for all the bad I'd done.
Putting on makeup was a surreal experience. I couldn't believe that I used to do it everyday of my life no matter what. It seemed like such a far off dream. I darkened my eyes and traced my lips with the light red lipstick. I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror. Old Erica was standing before me. Could I really become her again?
I could hear the shower running from the kitchen and knew that Erica was going to be all right. She'd been through so much but she was strong. Stronger than any woman I'd ever met. The thought crossed my mind of sneaking into the shower with her, slamming her against the glass and taking her rough. My hard cock in my pants agreed with me. She wouldn't be able to resist me.
The eggs in the pan sizzled, distracting me from my fantasy. They were just beginning to brown as I used a spatula to move them around. I hoped she liked her eggs scrambled because that was the only way I knew how to cook them.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Damon again.
I was running out of excuses. I'd have to settle this with him today. I answered the phone while still tending the eggs.
“This isn't like you, Brody. I've been waiting for an update and I get nothing.”
“Sir, I'm working on it as we speak. I visited the dealer's house and he had already skipped town. I'm working with the junkie right now to find out where he's headed.”
Damon inhaled sharply. “No you're done, Brody. I want the junkie brought to me. Russel and I will deal with this now.”
Fuck. Shit. Fuck. There's no way I could take Erica to the Kelly's. When they found out the junkie was a woman, they'd have their couple rounds with her before torturing her to death for information she didn't have. But I had to go along with it. For now.
“Of course, boss. I'll bring the junkie over as soon as I can.”
“Don't fuck this up, Brody.” The line went dead and I shoved my phone in my pocket. I had about twenty-four hours before the Kelly brothers would send their goons after me. I had twenty-four hours to skip town and never look back.
Why the fuck was I risking so much for a chick I didn't even know? This wasn't like me. Not at all. I used sluts and tossed them away after I was done with them. I didn't save girls. I was no hero.
“Everything okay?” a soft voice asked behind me.
I turned around to see a girl I barely recognized. She barely resembled the drug addict I pulled from that shithole apartment. Her long jet black hair was brushed and hung behind her shoulders. The makeup I bought changed her appearance entirely. She no longer had sunken eyes but beautiful brown globes. Erica was dressed in new jeans and a black blouse with a low-hanging neck. The desire to tear off all those clothes and fuck her in the kitchen was overwhelming. My eyes found her cleavage and I lost my grip on the spatula and dropped it into the eggs.
“Shit!” I pulled the spatula out and burned the back of my finger on the pan. “Fuck,” I yelled, sucking on my burnt flesh.
Erica laughed and took control of the spatula. “You wouldn't be able to tell but I used to make a mean omelet.” She folded the eggs over.
I ran my finger under cold water until the pain subsided. “You look really nice,” I choked out, checking out her ass in those tight jeans.
Compliments?
Now I knew I had become bat-shit crazy.
“Thank you for the clothes. And for everything you've done for me.”
“I didn't do it for you. I needed information and the only way was to sober you up.” I knew it wasn't true the moment it came out of my mouth and she knew it too.
“Well thank you either way.” Erica opened up some cupboards, searching for something. “Do you have any plates?”
I did but they were dirty in the sink. I didn't need plates to eat Chinese takeout every night. “Sorry, nothing clean.”
“No problem. We'll just eat straight out of the pan. Just don't burn yourself again.” Erica winked at me and nudged me with her elbow. How could this be the same girl who was just going through withdrawals?
We sat down at the little kitchen table that was covered in unopened mail and junk. I swiped it all away in one stroke, sending the papers flying to the ground. Erica placed the pan of eggs between us. The first bite tasted dramatically different than any eggs I had ever cooked before. It actually had flavor.
“How did you make this taste so good? Its not like my kitchen is stocked with anything fresh.”
Erica chuckled. “That's for sure. But you'd be surprised what a difference a few spices could do.”
I didn't even know I had any spices. And didn't care because these eggs were delicious.
“So why do you need to find this drug dealer so badly?” she asked.
“It's my job. It's what I do.”
Erica scrapped the pan, filling her fork with the last little bit of eggs. “That's it? That's all the information you're going to give me? Are you a secret agent or something?”
“No nothing like that.” I wasn't sure how much I should tell her. She didn't need to know every aspect of my life. “I work for the Kelly brothers. Pretty much doing anything they ask of me.”
“Like kidnapping an addict and making her go clean?”
I smirked at her. This woman had a mouth on her. And I liked that. “That was just a bonus. This drug shipment they're looking for is very important.”
Erica stared off at the ground. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you where my dealer was right away. I was too scared of never being able to get a fix again.”
I leaned forward and put my hand on hers. There was a sudden jolt between us and the hairs on my arms stuck up.
What was this feeling?
“Don't worry, you don't need to explain to me. How are you feeling?”
“Like someone drove a tractor around in my head. I still have that urge for a fix but it's fading away. I have it under control now. I realized that I need to live my life.”
The view down her blouse was making my cock throb with desire. I couldn't help myself. I gripped her hand and pulled her towards me, pressing my mouth against hers. Erica's lips were soft tasted sweet.
Erica pulled away for a moment out of shock but returned with fiery passion. My fingers ran through her silky hair, holding her head in place. My tongue slipped past her lips, feeling around. Erica moaned and grabbed onto my arms. I couldn't wait much longer. I had to have her. My balls needed to be drained of every last bit of seed.
I broke away from the kiss, my breath finally returning. “Do you want to go to the bedroom?”
Erica looked back at me with dreamy eyes and she simply nodded. I whisked her off her feet and carried her through the hallway. It was a lot easier than carrying her when she was unconscious and limp.
Nothing could stop me now from taking what was mine.