Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
So despite it not being like me, I paced the floor of that small, stark kitchen until I'd swear I wore treads into the floor. Then, not feeling any better, I went in search for cleaning supplies and gave my mother's old stress habit a try.
Nothing like a clean house to make you feel better about life, she used to tell me as she scrubbed dishes and I sat at the kitchen table doing my homework.
But three hours later, my nose was burning from the smell of bleach; my hands were pruny and red; blood was crusted around my nail beds from the merciless scrubbing of the kitchen floor.
"Hey, you alright Beth?" Penny asked, her tone a little hesitant as she stood in the doorway, a worry crease between her brows.
"I'm worried about Lazarus," I admitted, surprising myself. "And I don't really handle stress as well as I used to anymore so I'm just..." I trailed off, my voice catching on a sob as ridiculous tears stung at my eyes.
My emotions had been flip-flopping for hours- anxiety and fear and anger and hopelessness. I practically had whiplash from how quickly I could whip from one to another.
"Okay," she said a little tightly as she backed away, reaching for her phone.
I had no idea until about half an hour later that she had just called in reinforcements.
Meaning... the girls club.
Times a bunch because there were faces I had never seen before.
There was Penny, Lo, Janie, Summer, Maze, and Mina- the Henchmen women. Alex was also there. But there was also a short, curvy brunette who was introduced as Amelia, and tall, drop-dead gorgeous blonde they called Elsie.
"So, since no one else is willing to be blunt with you," Alex piped up, being shushed by at least three of the other women who she promptly ignored, "Penny called us because you're freaking out and she doesn't want you to fall into a bottle of pills. We're here to... what was it, Amelia?" she asked.
"To support and listen to her," Amelia said, big-eyeing Alex who shrugged.
"Amelia is a drug counselor," Penny explained. "She's the wife of one of our friends, Shooter. We figured maybe you would want to sit down with her for a while and talk about how you're feeling."
"Or we can all just hang out and do like... makeovers or something," Janie added, her face curling up in complete and utter disgust, obviously not a girlie girl at all.
"You didn't even try to make that sound fun," Maze said, rolling her eyes at her.
"Sorry that nail polish doesn't interest me. I'm only going to chip it off when I throw someone over my shoulder and beat the ever loving shit out of them anyway."
"I think we have gotten a bit off track here," Summer tried to wade in, being a voice of reason. "We're here to help Beth feel better. And maybe not convince her that we're all complete whack jobs."
"Give it up, Summer," Lo said with a smile, shaking her head as Maze and Janie started getting louder and louder. "There's no stopping this and you know it."
"You wanna go?" Janie said suddenly, making my attention shoot to her and Maze. "You're all healed up now. No sore lady bits. I will take you down."
Were they really going to fight?
Right there in the kitchen?
Maybe even a teensy part of me that was very much my mother added: on my nice clean floor?!
But then Cyrus was there behind the group, throwing a friendly arm over the shoulders of Amelia and Elsie who were on either side of him. "We're all hanging out? Why wasn't I invited?"
Then everyone was talking at once, female voices to varying degrees of loud, Cyrus butting in-somehow out of place but still welcome. Some point during everyone pouring into the kitchen, making coffee, and making food, Amelia broke away from the rest, her head ducked to the side. "Come on, let's go talk," she said, touching my hip then turning away, leaving me to follow her toward the hall and down the stairs to the basement, seemingly the only empty space in the whole clubhouse.
There were two sets of bunks to the left at the bottom of the stairs and Amelia took one and motioned to the other.
"So, how are you holding up?"
"Honest?" I asked, shrugging. "Not as good without Lazarus here."
"He's a safe place. You only just told everyone else and it is too soon to really gauge how they are going to react. It's natural to want to have him here to lean on and talk to. He doesn't just sympathize; he understands."
That was true.
No one who hadn't been an addict could truly grasp the overwhelming powerlessness of it all, could know what daily strength it took to not go out and put an end to the jumpy feeling inside, the swirling emotions, the aches and pains.