Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Use it. Were the words that were scrawled on the box.
I had to ignore the pang that came with thinking of him. Of the fact, he was going to do everything he could to take care of me, even with the way I treated him the other night. I couldn’t focus on that. I had someone else to take care of.
There was no way I could leave Bex alone. After snatching a couple of hours of restless sleep after Asher had left two days ago, I consulted a nursing friend who now specialized in treating people with addictions. Her help was invaluable, as were her pointers in finding Bex’s stash. I had flushed various bags of powder, hidden in spots in Bex’s room, including lipstick tubes. I’d felt like I was violating her trust, but her survival was more important to me than her trust at that moment. Though my friend had been more than willing to help in any way she could, I knew having a stranger, no matter how nice, sit with her and witness this, would send Bex into a tailspin.
I was at a loss. Bex’s friends from the club were uncertain, considering she had told me that was where she’d first been offered the bag presenting her with an escape.
Quite simply, I was fucked.
Later that afternoon, after finally realizing I’d have to forfeit another paycheck and figure the repercussions out later, my problems were solved by a small and slightly crazy woman.
“Rosie,” I exclaimed in surprise when I opened the door.
She was clad in her normal glam. Every time I saw her, she was wearing something completely different than the last time I saw her. She was all in black. Black sleeveless turtleneck tucked into a short black leather mini and black heeled ankle boots. Her shoulder length curls were tumbling out of a messy bun. I was wearing one of Asher’s tees and leggings with holes in them.
“Please tell me the beautiful couple I had placed all my money on isn't already dust?” she greeted, hands on her hips.
I let out a breath, glancing back to Bex asleep on the sofa. I stepped forward obscuring Rosie’s view of our interior.
“We’re not over,” I said slowly. “We’re just on a break,” I explained.
Her eyes narrowed. “Ross and Rachel were on a break, look what happened to them,” she snapped, the only person that could use a Friends reference in serious conversation. “Asher’s gone from smiling like a fat cat with cake, to grimacing like a fat kid deprived of said cake,” she continued. Her eyes softened as she glanced at me. “You don’t look so good yourself, Lil. What’s going on? Why haven’t you called? I’m your friend. I want to help.”
Her words, her kind eyes maybe just the fact I was functioning on little to no sleep and suffering from Asher withdrawals was the reason I stepped out of the door and into her arms, sobbing. The entire story of Bex’s overdose, everything came tumbling out.
After I had finished, she’d pulled me out her arms to regard me with sad eyes.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Life hasn’t stopped delivering you punches has it?” she mused in sympathy.
I laughed bitterly, rubbing my eyes. “I guess not,” I said slowly.
“Well, I would ask why Asher isn’t here, helping you with this, but I’m thinking it’s the same reason why Gwen, Amy, and I aren’t privy to this. You think you have to handle all this alone.” She gave my shoulders a squeeze. “I’m not gonna tell you to call him, fill him in. That’s your choice. I’m not going to offer to pitch in financially because I know you won’t take a dime.” She rose her brow slightly at how my frame flinched at this. “I am going to offer what I can. What you’re going to accept. I’m going to stay here. Hang with Bex while you go to work,” she decided.
I shook my head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
She pursed her lips. “It’s a good thing you’re not asking then,” she said.
I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. So I let myself take the help that she offered. The help she offered without judgment, without expecting anything in return.
I dragged myself into my car. I was tired. No, I don’t think there was a word to explain what I was. My days were spent watching Bex like a hawk. Caring for her. Her entire body was crying out for a fix, and no matter what her mind wanted, the body was hard to say no to. So I watched. Didn’t sleep. And when she was sleeping I opened my textbooks with bleary eyes, thankful that by some small miracle my teachers had let me study from home under the guise I was suffering from mono.