Addicted In Cold Blood (28 page)

“Forget all of that!” he spat. “This isn’t about my eye. You just don’t get it, Jayme. You don’t like what I said to her, but it was the damn truth! And don’t worry, Ms. Bleeding Heart, I don’t
do
drug users. I get the dealers. Get the dealers, the users stop.”

“You have to get to the heart of the issue, Xzion. It doesn’t work that way. They’ll just trade one high for another. Yeah, some will get clean, but not all of them. You have to know why they are taking the drugs, and address it!”

“Selfishness! Weakness! Those are the
only
reasons! I can’t make the weak strong, but I
can
stop the distribution.”

“Wrong! Trauma, neglect, guilt, feeling useless, worthless and like a fuck up!” Jayme was exasperated. All this time she’d spent with this man, she didn’t want to lose this opportunity. Maybe, just maybe, she could wake him—make him see. She had to try...

“You seem to know so much about this,” he said accusingly. “Are you a recovered drug addict?”

“No.”

“Well then...”

“Because I’m a cop! A caring cop... I can’t help people without understanding what is driving the behavior, Xzion. Sure, I could still do my job, but I wouldn’t make a difference. Why do you think the community lets me get so close to them, huh?! That’s why we are not in town right now. People would spot me like a sore thumb, and you know it! They know me unless I’m under theatric disguise. I have hardened criminals that trust me! That’s not a coincidence, it’s because I’ve earned it, because I understand them. I enforce the law, but I still treat them like people. Because they
are
people! They are human beings, doing wrong, but they are still people, Xzion, just like you and me! I give a shit...the community is mourning me. You stole me from the people that needed me.”

“No, the FBI did and then you broke into my damn house. You should’ve minded your own business and none of this would have happened! You have no idea how in over my head I am in now, because of
you
!” Spit sprayed out of his mouth.

Something else was going on now...something new she hadn’t seen before.

“I’ve sacrificed so much for you, Jayme,” he added quietly, turning away from her in guilt, as if were a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The silence stretched.

“Like what?” she finally asked in a soft voice. Getting close to him, she grabbed his jacket collar and brought him close to kiss his lips gently, so gently…

That’s right, keep him centered, make him spill it...

“I...can’t tell you. I answer to someone though, okay? That is all you need to know.”

A warm feeling came over her as the muscles in her face relaxed.

So now we have it. Dude is a hired hit man...now we’re getting somewhere...

“And does your boss know about me?” She smirked, already knowing the answer, pleased at her little discovery during his moment of weakness.

His face turned pale, a look of utter defeat on it. “No,” he finally admitted, ice in his tone. 

She had him, and he slipped away, just that quickly. He was back again—unfeeling, uncaring. For that brief five minute span, she had him hot, bothered, angry and passionate. Now, he had regained his composure, and she could feel the coolness in the air building and building, but only around his form. His right eye twinkled, glowing red ever so briefly, then seemed to turn to black, crushed diamonds, right before her. He was trying to self soothe. She could see that he hated what happened. He didn’t like losing his cool, but there was so much she didn’t know, and she’d only touched the tip of the iceberg.

How could she get through? What did she need to say or do to get him to do a full exposé? She at least had one idea, and she’d use it. She’d play that card now, every dealt hand she got.

“And if he knew about me, he’d want me dead?” she asked, a lump in her throat.

“Dead, buried and forgotten.”

So this is what it has come down to? Things had been going so well, and now, I’m spilling my guts.

Jayme leaned against the wall where’d Xzion left her after she kissed him during his fit of rage. She enjoyed watching him squirm; of that, he was sure. The damned drunken old woman set him off, reminding him of all that was wrong with their world. He was tired of the excuses, seeing their faces. He believed in calling everything what it actually was, not dancing around a politically correct cloud of despair. If you tell a cancer patient they only have the hiccups, will they take the diagnosis seriously?

He ran these thoughts through his mind, analyzing them as if he were preparing taxes. The shit didn’t add up. Why did Jayme and bleeding hearts like her make excuses for the addicts? Humans were born enablers. They seemed to have to fight against the urge. Sure, he knew who was really to blame here, and this was what made his job easier, but the addict wasn’t absolved of guilt, either.

Their lust for an escape sent them to an early grave. Why should Jayme understand where he was coming from? She couldn’t. The human race would still survive their drug holocaust, but his race would not. Lucid minds, that was all he needed, and then his presence would have never been known. Lucid minds to control and overpower, to get their precious blood that their hosts took for granted... It had healing properties; it would make all the difference. They could still live their lives, but they made this all so damned hard. Drug induced minds cause everyone to get the shaft, and the biggest losers are always the ones that love them. Addicts made him want to vomit.

To him, it was an ultimate example of lack of self-control, ignorance, self-annihilation and stupidity. No other creatures, besides humans, became addicts. He had a hard time understanding why God coveted them so. All the stories his mother told him, about the humans on Earth—they weren’t desirable in the least, yet books were written about them, so many books and so much favor granted. And then he recalled Jayme’s effect on him before the night had crashed and burned.
That is why God shows favor on them...because of people like her...

He looked at Jayme staring back at him, wishing he could erase the last ten minutes of their date, but it was too late. The stench of the drunken woman still hung in the air, forcing him to frown as the wind caught it, and brought it back under his nostrils like some form of sick punishment. Before he realized it, he felt Jayme’s small hand in his palm as she slowly ushered him forward, out from the building walkway. They strolled in silence, as they now did on occasion, going nowhere in particular. After a few quiet minutes, Jayme gently tugged on his sleeve. He looked down at her, still trying to temper down his anger from their verbal altercation.

“Hey, that is an AA meeting. It starts soon according to that sign.” She pointed to the door of a building. “Let’s go in, introduce ourselves.”

“I’m not going to any damned AA meeting. Let’s head back to the car.” He didn’t like this. He didn’t like how she was trying to play him after all they’d established. He knew what she was up to, and this was the wrong time.

The wrong damn time, Jayme.

“Have you ever been to one, Xzion? You could at least give it a chance, hear what they have to say.”

“Why would I want to do that? So you can try to prove your point, tonight? Besides, when I get home, I’m cracking open a bottle of Vodka. It’s smooth running down my throat.” And it was, but not for the reasons anyone would think.

Jayme rolled her eyes and moved closer to him, her breasts pushing into his chest, flirting with him, worming her way further inside his cold heart with her notorious manipulative ways.

Damn this woman...

What pissed him off most was that he knew what she was doing, and
she
knew that he knew—but it didn’t stop her from continuing. He sighed and looked at the small type-written, dog eared note on the door, some of the letters blurred from moisture. The small dark tan building had several windows with white blinds partially opened. People walked about with faint smiles, holding cups with warm beverages inside, he assumed coffee as steamy swirls rose from them. Some munched on cookies, and in the distance, in the corner of the room, was a clock. He looked back at the time on the sign; it did begin soon. After all of this, he just wanted to get centered. He wanted to go home and immerse himself in coolness. Not because his brain was overheating, but because his heart was so—he was beyond angry, and it left hot embers inside of him. Maybe, if he could make her smile again, he’d feel better. Yeah, that could work.

He opened the door, nodded, and ushered her inside. He didn’t miss the grin on her face as she glanced up at him, moving past his stiff body. He walked close behind her, the door closing behind them, marking the end, or possibly the beginning, of something new.

*
***

Xzion watched Jayme make her way toward the crowd. People looked at her and smiled. Some even introduced themselves.

Damn, she blends right in
... a regular people person.

Dressed in a bright red festive sweater and snug jeans on ample hips, a woman made her way to the center of the room amongst plastic gray chairs assembled in the shape of a circle. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showcasing her attractive features and small golden hoop earrings that glinted under the low overhead lights. Xzion sniffed the air—various perfumes and the scent of coffee and cocoa mingled together. People took their seat, while he stood cautiously to the side, observing from a safe distance.

“Come join us,” the pecan-complexioned woman offered. “We have two guests here, everyone. My name is Renee Coleman. I’m a nurse and drug counselor. I’ve been running these meetings for nine years and counting. Visitors,” she glanced over at Xzion, “you don’t have to tell us your stories, unless you want to, but we do want to have an introduction as to why you are here. Everyone needs to feel comfortable.”

There is that damn word again...

“This is a safe haven.” 

Shit. What name would Jayme give? This could turn into a disaster. We didn’t discuss this beforehand...

He’d allowed his emotions to get the best of him—something he wasn’t aware that he even had, and now, she could blow the whistle.

Don’t make me have to kill all these people, Jayme...

He shot her a threatening glance, but she seemed to be oblivious as she stirred her cocoa and joined the group, taking a seat next to a man with sleepy green eyes and disheveled reddish brown hair. Xzion remained off to the side, regretting allowing this to happen. Jayme turned and waved to him to come sit by her. He briefly hesitated, then did so uncertainly. Soon, he was sitting so close, she’d barely be able to move if she’d wanted. It didn’t matter to him, he wasn’t parting from her. Renee took a seat, and the chatter quieted.

“Okay everyone.” She patted her thighs then leisurely crossed her ankles. “No need for long intros. I hope everyone had a good day yesterday. I’m so glad you all could come. First, let’s get our guests to tell us a bit about themselves, and then we’ll begin.”

“Hello everyone.” Jayme smiled sincerely, immediately jumping into the conversation. “My name is...Claudia. I saw the sign. My friend and I were just passing by, and wanted to come in because someone I love very much is a drug addict.”

Xzion shot her a look of confusion. He had only been half paying attention; now, he was all ears.

Someone she loves very much? Who?

“So, sometimes, I think I need to hear what you all go through, so I can keep focused, keep grounded.” Several people nodded in understanding.

“And, this is your friend?” Renee looked at Xzion and offered an earnest smile that he didn’t want to reciprocate. He hated the way she looked at him, all warm and motherly. It felt unscrupulous, but he knew he was just being paranoid. The night had been rough—fucking emotions. This was what they felt like and this was what you got when you fuck with them. How did he get them and why wouldn’t they leave him alone? Now he was trapped with the damned things and would have to listen to all of these weaklings whine about their own feelings and fucked up issues for a hour...an entire goddamn hour! He turned away, trying to stuff the shit down.

Jayme nodded and gently tugged at Xzion’s sleeve, forcing him to face the crowd again.

“Yes, this is my friend but not the one I’m referring to.”

He glowered, scanning the room and reading the crowd. He wanted to know who the fuck he was dealing with...

Daniel, thirty-two, no weapons...

Stephanie, twenty-seven, no weapons...she is high right now...Jesus Christ! She came to an AA meeting, high!

Juanita, forty-three, no weapons...

And so his scanning continued...

“What is your name?” Renee asked warmly, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side, causing her wavy ponytail to sway behind her.

“Bill.” Xzion shrugged and shoved his hand in his pocket. “I’m just here for Claudia.” He glanced at her and winked.

“Okay, I understand.” She nodded and grinned, making him more uncomfortable. “As I said, my name is Renee Coleman and I run this group.” She pointed at herself. “I am also a recovered addict. I was addicted to pain medication. I had been in a car accident in 1992, was put on oxycodone and couldn’t get off. That caused me to begin to write my own illegal prescriptions and I was mixing the pills with alcohol and other pain killers, some OTC. I got clean in 1997, after my best friend and some coworkers confronted me. For me, it was a wake-up call. They did an intervention. I had one relapse in 1999. Since then, I have not used and do not use alcohol anymore either. Even though it was not my drug of choice, I used it as a booster—and it could be a trigger now, so I don’t indulge. That’s my story in a nutshell.”