Chapter Seventeen
Nate
I woke up like someone had just punched me in the chest. The room was dark and quiet. I had to take a minute to remember where I was because my mind felt like I was still asleep.
My skin felt clammy; I was soaking wet with sweat. I threw the covers off and tried to get myself up into a sitting position. Every move I made hurt like I'd been lying still for years. My heart was racing, and I felt like I was definitely about to throw up.
Fuck. Couldn't even do one whole day, huh? I should have known this was coming. I was still on my back. Pushing myself up, I realized I wasn't alone. Abby was asleep, facing me. As if this night could get worse. I tried to move quietly. I couldn't do it quickly because my body felt like I'd just run a marathon.
I needed a fucking dose. I was dying. That's what was happening. This is what death felt like. I'd almost gone an entire twenty-four hours without shooting. That was long enough. I was calling that a record. I'd get clean – as soon as I shot up just this one last time.
Where was my stuff? I couldn't remember. I couldn't think. Where the fuck had I put it? I stumbled into the living room. Was it in there? I couldn't see my kit anywhere. Was it even still there? I'd trashed the place the night before; what if it was gone? I went to a couch and threw the pillows on the ground, checking behind them. There was nothing on the piano or the dining table. I checked the shelves pushing the vases and decorations onto the floor, not caring whether they broke.
Nothing. Where the fuck was it? The bedroom? I couldn't go in there. Abby was still in there. She was asleep. She couldn't see me like this. My stomach was turning. I tried to get to the fridge, but switched streams halfway because I was going to be sick. I scrambled back into the room to the bathroom, barely making it before I started throwing up.
I puked my dinner into the toilet bowl, feeling my stomach cramp painfully.
Shit. That was new. I knew other people who had gotten the cramps and thrown up, but I hadn't stayed sober long enough before for it to be me. Look at that, new milestone, I thought.
I slumped against the toilet, flushing it. I felt exhausted. My heart was still racing, but my body ached and I was sweating. God, how awful would it have been for Abby to walk in right then? Yeah. We’d had sex and she was pretty into me, but this would probably cool her down real quick.
I pulled myself painfully back to my knees. Had I left it in here? I checked the tub and shelves, throwing the towels on the ground.
"Nate?"
Fuck.
"Go back to bed, Abby," I growled from the ground.
"Nate, what's going on?" she asked.
"I said go back to bed. Leave me alone." She came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off.
"Nate, come back to bed," she said putting her hand back on my shoulder.
"Where's my kit?" I asked her.
"Your what?"
"My kit, Abby, don't play dumb. Did you take it? So I couldn't shoot up? That how you plan on helping me?" I demanded.
"Nate, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tell me," I demanded.
"I don't know where it is," she insisted. She looked at my face, touching my cheek. I flinched away. "Have you been throwing up?" she asked. I ignored her question and tried to get up. "Nate," she called.
"Fuck off, Abby. Unless you're helping me find my kit, I don't want to hear it," I said.
I got up and left the room feeling bad for talking to her like that, but maybe she'd leave. She'd leave, and I wouldn't have to feel like a disgusting degenerate shoving the needle into my shoulder because my hands would be shaking too hard to get a vein without missing.
I got back out to the bedroom, starting with the bed. I ripped the covers off, throwing the pillows on the ground. I threw the cupboards open checking inside.
I was getting frustrated. I started on the couch, pulling all the cushions up. One of them caught the lamp on the second nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Nate!" I looked up seeing Abby in the bathroom doorway. The bathroom light was on behind her, so she looked like a ghost or something, like she wasn't really there. She came up to me. "Nate, stop," she said, taking the cushion I was holding from my hand. "You have to calm down," she said.
"Where's my shit?"
"You can't give up now, Nate; you've managed not to use the whole day," she said, putting her hands on my arms.
"Yeah, now we know my fucking limit."
"If you give up now, you'll have to start again from scratch," she said.
I was nauseated, and my heart was racing so fast I thought it was about to stop. Starting again from scratch meant not feeling like this right now, and recovery or not, I wanted to stop feeling like I was about to die.
"I can't fucking do it, Abby," I said.
"I said I was going to help you."
"The only way you could do that is helping me find a vein that isn't fucking dead," I snapped. I saw her flinch a little. I was being an ass. I knew that, but I couldn't fucking do it. If I showed her it was useless to try and help me, she wouldn't have to waste her time trying to do it. She wouldn't have to fucking watch this anymore.
"I'm not leaving you alone, Nate," she said.
"Well, maybe you should," I said, knowing I was pushing her away. In the dim light from the bathroom, her eyes became glassy. She was crying. She shook her head. Shit. Leave, goddamnit. Leave me alone. Why wasn't she letting me destroy my life in peace?
"I know you're struggling right now, but this is the worst of it. It will get easier. All you have to do is ride it out. I said I'd be here for you, and I meant it," she said.
I sighed, feeling my body sag. I wanted to believe her. I really wanted to let her help me, but I didn't know what to do when someone was trying to look after me.
"Come on," she said. She took one of my hands and pulled me after her. I resisted a little, but let her do it. We went back into the bathroom. The shower was on, making the small room foggy and warm.
I watched her pull my t-shirt off and slide her hands under the waistband of my boxer briefs so they could slide down, too. "Come on," she prompted gently again. I followed her into the shower. The water was sort of hot, hotter than I would usually have it, but it felt good because I was hurting so bad.
I turned my face up into the stream. It felt good. Abby was running her hands over my shoulders and chest. We stayed there a while before she stopped the water, and we went back to the room. She had put a robe on, and I was in a towel. I let her lead me to the bed and make me lay back on the bed. I still wanted to shoot up, but I wasn’t feeling as nauseated. I was feeling sort of tired. The room was dark, but I could still see her moving around.
"Wait here," she said, getting off the bed.
"Don't leave," I said quickly. I started getting up off the bed.
"Stop moving," she said. She sat on the bed behind me, letting me rest my head on her lap. She ran a hand through my wet hair. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," I grumbled, looking up at her dark silhouette. She was stroking my hair. It felt nice.
“What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Heroin,” I said.
“What else?” she urged. I sighed. She wasn’t going to let me do it.
“Why are you still here?” I thought, saying it out loud. She didn’t say anything, and her hand slowed down a little in my hair. She moved a little under me, and I was scared she was actually going to leave.
I hadn’t meant it. I was just pissed, sick, and tired. People gave me what I wanted when I asked them to, but not her. Her kindness was throwing me for a loop. I didn’t know what to do when someone was nice to me without any real reason to be and didn’t have to be.
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything, either. I don’t know when it happened, but I must have fallen asleep because I woke up. Abby was gone. I sat up, I was groggy and sort of tired, but the pain from the night before was mostly gone, and I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up. I started getting up when I stopped, seeing a piece of paper with my name on it, handwritten.
I sat down to read the note.
Nate, I had to leave for work. I didn’t want to wake you. You did great last night; call me at the front desk when you wake up. Abby.
She stayed, I thought. Why was she even still talking to me? I remembered what I had said to her. I would have punched myself in the face if I was her. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I owed her an apology. And a thank you.
I looked for my phone to check the time before calling the front desk. The room was clean, I noticed; she must have arranged that, too. Already too much, I thought. I needed to start paying her or something. She probably wouldn’t take it, though, because that was the kind of person she was.
Too good for me. That might have been true, but if she had seen me last night and still wasn’t done with me, I wasn’t letting her go. I sat on the couch with the phone and called the front desk.
"Good afternoon. Thank you for calling Four Seasons Lanai, you're speaking to Abby. How may I help you?" she said picking the phone up.
“What did you tell housekeeping after they found my room trashed two days in a row?” I asked, smirking.
“Mr. Stone, I trust you’re fine this morning. How can I help you?” she said.
“What did I tell you about calling me that?” I said, laughing at her professional work voice.
“Yes sir, I can certainly make arrangements to take you around the island today. Come to the front desk when you are ready to leave.” I stopped. The fuck was she talking about? “Is there anywhere specific you would like to visit?” she asked.
Oh, of course, someone must have been listening to her. Her boss was probably there, and she wanted to make him think I was asking her to take me out again.
“Is your boss there? Let me talk to him,” I taunted her, smirking.
“We can definitely make the trip there and back before sundown,” she said, answering a question I hadn’t asked her. This was so funny. I didn’t know she had a sneaky streak in her.
“Is this your way of making me leave my suite again? Let’s go back to that beach we went to yesterday and fuck in the sunset again,” I said. I heard her giggle a little before clearing her throat.
“One hour? Of course, sir. Everything will be arranged,” she said before hanging up. One hour. More than enough time to shoot up before I have to leave, I thought. I still felt a little sick, and I had time. If I took just a little, she probably wouldn’t even be able to tell I was high.
I’d made it through last night, though. It would have been a shame to throw that away. How about it, I thought, do this one thing for once that you can be proud of yourself for. I put the phone down and in an hour was downstairs ready for my day with Abby.