Chapter 22
Max
At some point over the following weeks I grew comfortable with Lacey and Chris intermingling at my apartment. She was there most nights and even during the day when I was in my morning class at the ass crack of dawn. It was just like before he showed up needing a place to stay.
I let her peacefully sleep late in my bed and by the time I got home she usually had breakfast cooked for the three of us.
Things were perfect. And perfect really didn’t happen for me.
Based on that I should’ve known it would come crashing down spectacularly. Shit would eventually hit the fan like it always did.
Dad summoned me to work for him a couple hours on a Friday night. It was the first time all week and I hated to admit it but I needed the extra cash in my pocket.
I started off annoyed since I would much rather watch Lacey sing at Blue’s for the night and have a couple beers to unwind. But knowing I couldn’t say no even if wanted to and that it would help me pay my rent was a big motivator.
I made the drive across town and sold one-hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars of cocaine to a single dealer from the city. I made a thousand dollars off the deal and dropped off the manila envelope stuffed with the rest of the cash at Dad’s.
My dad was a jack of many trades. Chris and I were too, by association.
After the evening I had selling to a pompous asshole and coordinating the transfer of such a large sum of cash I was exhausted. Emotionally more than anything. No one got hurt tonight but I still felt scummy for the role I played.
I wanted a shower to wash away the scent of cigars and crookedness.
I swing the front door open ready to shower and crash in bed with Lacey. She always helped me forget who I was and what I had done.
Instead of opening the door to see her smiling face I find her stumbling down the hall disoriented. She leans heavily against the wall to keep from falling flat on her face.
My world tilts.
Her eyes are out of focus. She doesn’t even seem to notice me as she staggers toward the kitchen counter. Panic shoots through me and my legs weaken.
“Lacey.”
She looks up but her eyes are still glassy and unfocused. She slurs out a response that makes no sense. I grab her arm to stop her from falling on her ass and look around desperately for my brother.
I sit her down on the couch, safe for the moment, and turn back to yell down the hall. Fury pumps through my veins and I’m pretty sure I can feel my blood pressure sky rocketing.
“Chris!”
Commotion comes from the bathroom and he rushes out in boxers, drying his hair with a towel.
“What’s going on?” He sounds genuinely confused.
He hasn’t noticed Lacey slumped over on the couch yet and my anxiety is shooting through the fucking roof. How could he not be involved in this? Lacey was clearly under the influence of something.
The girl hardly even drank alcohol and she worked at a fucking bar. I’ve seen her tipsy a total of two fucking times. She was completely out of it now. In my mind that left only one possible person to blame.
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
I gesture wildly at the couch and damn near pull my hair from the roots. The pain that shoots through my nerve endings is a welcome distraction.
This can’t be happening. There’s no way my own brother did this. No way had he given her drugs. Not after I finally trusted him for the past few weeks. He had seemed so different lately. Like the old him.
But her dilated pupils didn’t lie. And there was no way she had taken an illegal drug from him knowingly. Absolutely no way.
“I didn’t do shit to her.”
He looks at her nervously but adamantly denies it’s his fault. Deep in my gut I know he’s hiding something. I’m not ready to hear what he has to say. At the same time I demand answers.
I’m so conflicted inside that I start to pace in front of the couch, keeping a close eye on her as she teeters on unconsciousness.
“Why is she acting like this?”
“Hell if I know.”
My patience snaps and I shove him into the wall with a thud. “What. The fuck. Did you do to her?”
“Nothing. Jesus. What the hell is wrong with you? She’s fine.”
“Are you trying to tell me you think that’s fine?” I point to the couch as she curls into her side and mumbles another incoherent string of words.
“She had a headache, bro. I gave her something to make it go away. She’s fine.”
I clench my jaw and force myself not to strangle him. “What was it?”
“Morphine.”
To say I’m pissed is an understatement. My fists clench at my sides so hard my nails dig into my palm. My vision blurs. Is this what stroke level blood pressure feels like? I’ve got to be right there at the threshold.
“Are you fucking kidding me? She's never had anything like that. How much did you give her?”
“One. She said she had a headache. That’s all I had left. She’s just a lightweight, man. She’s fine. I’ll have to go get more from dad’s supplier. So really you should be thanking me. At least she doesn’t have a headache.”
I shove him again hard in the center of his chest and he gets pissed right back. His face contorts in anger.
“Who the fuck gives someone morphine for a headache?”
“It. Was. All. I. Had. And how the hell was I supposed to know you were fucking innocent little angels all of a sudden? The girls back at home handle it just fine.”
His mocking tone grates on my last nerve, grinding it into dust in my palms. I get ready to clock him right in the jaw when I hear rustling from the couch and what sounds like my name mumbled unintelligibly.
I turn away from my idiot brother and go to her.
Brushing her tangled hair from her face, I look closely at her eyes. They’re dilated almost fully and she still can’t seem to focus. I continue stroking her hair in comfort. It’s for myself as much as for her.
My hand shakes from rage but the longer I touch her the more I calm.
Chris is a damn moron but he was right about one thing. One pill shouldn’t do any permanent damage.
“Angel. I need you to drink some water. Ok?”
“Mmmm.” She leans over and snuggles into the couch pillows, covering her eyes from the light. I prop her back up and run to the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“Is she ok?”
I ignore Chris’s worried tone the best I can. He was the one insisting she was fine minutes ago. He didn’t sound quite as convinced now. It sparks fresh irritation.
I open the lid and tip the bottle slowly to her lips. To my relief she swallows when she feels the first drops. Some drips down the corner of her mouth and runs down her chin. I swipe at the water with the bottom of my shirt. When I’m satisfied that she’s drank as much as she can I twist the lid back on and toss the bottle to the other side of the couch.
“Maaax.”
“Yeah.”
“Donnn be mad aaah me.” She slurs softly into the pillow, making it even harder to understand her than before.
“I’m not mad at you, angel. You only took one pill right?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Chris shoots me a look across the room. He can be pissed at me all he wants for not taking his word. I couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. Lacey was my priority and I had to make sure she was okay.
“Let’s get you to bed.” I murmur in her ear, stroking her hair gently. The motion seems to sooth her worries that my anger is directed at her. I need to force myself to cool off in front of her. The last thing she needs right now is to stress about me being pissed off.
I carefully lift her relaxed body from the couch, not trusting her legs to carry her down the hallway. Once I place her under the sheets and settle her into bed I head back to the living room to finish dealing with Chris.
“Get the fuck out.” I order without preamble when I’m close enough to speak to him without yelling and waking her back up.
“What do you mean get out?” The surprise in his voice annoys the shit out of me.
“Just what it sounds like. Get. Out.”
His eyes widen. “Where am I supposed to go? It’s the middle of the night!”
“I really don’t give a fuck. Go back to Dad’s. Get a hotel room. Shack up with a girl. I don’t give a shit. But you need to go.” I point to his shit piled on the floor next to the couch. “You have five minutes to pack up.”
He stares at me in disbelief for a few long beats. Realizing I’m dead serious he starts stuffing clothes in his backpack that’s been leaning against the wall for the past several weeks.
He’s done in less than two minutes and storms out the front door without sparing me another glance. Without so much as a parting word.
I slam the door shut as soon as he’s on the doorstep and secure the lock in place.
My night is spent restlessly laying in bed next to Lacey and periodically placing a hand on her belly, her chest, her face. I just need to touch her. To assure myself she’s ok. That her shallow breathing isn’t slowing more or stopping.
One morphine pill isn’t enough to overdose on. I’m not green about drugs. I just spent my evening selling a truckload full of coke for fuck sake.
But this is Lacey.
What if she’s allergic? What if she took more than one and Chris is a bigger damn liar than I thought? She’s obviously not thinking clearly. She could be confused about what she took.
I toss and turn all night.
When the sun finally peaks through the windows my body aches from the pent-up tension. The sunshine reassures me that she’s going to be fine. She made it through the night. Her breathing is even and regular as far as I can tell. It’s not as worrisome as last night when I first found her.
I pull her back against my front in the spooning position and finally let sleep take over.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
“Do you not know how to take a fucking hint?”
Later that day I go downstairs to grab my trig textbook from the backseat and find Chris parked next to me, sleeping in his car. It’s half past noon.
My knuckles rap against the glass, jarring him from sleep. He wipes sleep from his eyes and rolls down the window.
“I can’t even be in my own car? Do you own this fucking parking lot too?”
“I didn’t realize when I let you stay here you would never leave. What do I have to do to get rid of you? Gas you out?”
“What’s your problem? I wouldn’t make you go back to Dad’s over some stupid shit like this.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Stupid? Did you see her last night? You’re so fucking careless it’s unreal.”
“Ok my bad. Do you know what Dad would do to me if I showed back up there?”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
Our voices are loud enough to carry upstairs. Sure enough Lacey peeks out the door in curiosity. When she sees the two of us bickering down here she stomps down the flight of stairs.
“Max.” She says softly as she approaches us, trying to rein me in.
It doesn’t work this time. Not after watching her fight the headache that followed her morphine high, making her ask if maybe I could get her another to help alleviate it.
“Stay out of this.”
Chris starts his engine. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Chris, just wait.” Lacey calls out from the sidewalk.
“Lacey I said stay out of it. This is none of your business.”
Angry eyes snap to me. “How is it none of my business if it’s about me? I keep trying to tell you what happened and you won’t even listen.”
Chris shift to reverse and keeps his foot on the brakes. “He’s not going to listen. Your boyfriend is a fucking hothead.” He turns his gaze to me. “I guess you get that from Dad.”
I see red.
I reach in through the window to grab him just as he takes his foot off the brakes. The car jolts backward and screeches out of the lot before I’m able to get a grip on the motherfucker and I’m forced to step back or risk him running me over.
I storm upstairs with Lacey hot on my heels. “You’re overreacting.”
I slam the door with enough force to rattle the floor like a mini earthquake. “I’m not.”
“I get migraines sometimes. I had a bad one last night. I asked if he had anything.”
“So you’re hitting up my brother for drugs?”
“I didn’t ask for drugs, you asshole. I just needed something to cut the pain. He told me it was strong but it hurt bad enough that I was desperate.”
“I’m not dating a morphine junkie.”
She looks like I slapped her. “A junkie? I had one fucking pill.”
“You wanted more. You asked me this morning.”
“I had another headache.”
“That’s what they all say. That’s how it starts.”
“You would know, right?” She spits out the question acidly. I’ve never seen her look at me the way she is now.
“Yeah I would.”
I have no clue how to argue with her. This is out of my scope of experience for sure. I’ve never been in a real relationship before this. Up until this point we’ve never had a real argument.
Sure, we’ve both been annoyed with each other. She even gave me the cold shoulder a couple times.
But outright anger, accusations and insults? We didn’t do that.
I erect a rock solid wall between us immediately. I see where things are going so I beat her to the punch.
“It’s over.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” I repeat the words with calmness. The switch on my feelings has been flipped to the off position. I can’t do this. Won’t do it. “It’s over, Lacey.”
“Why?”
“We’re no good together. I’ve told you that-twice-and if you’re too stupid to listen I’ll make the right decision for you.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re just having a simple disagreement.”
“It’s more than that and you know it.”
“What more is there? This is crazy. You can’t just get rid of everyone that makes you mad.”
“What’s crazy is acting like we could actually be together without me fucking up your life. I see where this is going…and I’m not going there.”
She shakes her head. “If you think I’m going to stand here and beg you to be with me, you’re out of your mind. I have enough problems without this.”
With her head held high and not a tear in her eye she packs up her toiletries lining my bathroom counter. She pulls all of her clothes from my second drawer, the one I cleared out just for her, and shoves them in the overnight bag she left here.
I heat up a microwave meal for lunch and turn my back to the door so I don’t have to watch her leave.
It’s for the best. I can’t deal with this drama. With worrying about ruining another person’s life. My life is fucked up enough without adding another person to the equation. This whole relationship was a cluster fuck in the making.
A text lights up my phone from Dad, reinforcing that I made the right choice.
Dad: I need you tonight.
Max: I’ll be there.