Rush Into You (4 page)

I stared at the space his bike just occupied for the next twenty minutes, ignoring the signs of withdrawal rushing through me. Eventually, I dragged myself inside, the cold sweats and nausea too much to bare. I knew it was time to feed the demon stirring from deep within my bones. My body wouldn’t last much longer without it.

I trudged through my small apartment, flicking every light on in the house as I headed to my bedroom—I never felt as lonely when all the lights were on. I flipped the lid to my small jewelry box, lifted the ring tray, and pulled out a hypodermic syringe from the shallow compartment. I eyed the dull tip warily, it wasn’t new, but it would work. I knew I shouldn’t use the same needle twice, but I was desperate.

I was usually excited when I knew I was about to get high. It was a warped sense of excitement—eager for the euphoric rush as I hated myself for even needing it. Regardless, I couldn’t deny the bliss it brought me.

But tonight it seemed like a chore. I knew that I’d enjoy it, but I felt different. Instead of focusing on the escape, my thoughts were occupied by Ryker, and I felt as if I’d be letting him down if I got high right now.

Attempting to push the memory of his blue and gold eyes out of my mind, I slowly made my way to my next stash spot. I tugged on the large baggie peeking out from my old VCR player, and blindly grabbed one of the small bags of dope from inside.

I walked into the bathroom to collect the rest of my works—a q-tip from the closet and a bent spoon from under the sink. I filled up a small paper cup with water, unrolled a few sheets of toilet paper, and sat down on the closed toilet seat.

Time to get started.

I finally felt that twisted thrill I was used to—adrenaline pumped through my bloodstream, my body fired up for what it knew was coming, and my mind relaxed.

I dumped the heroin into my spoon, making sure every last speck of light-brown powder emptied. I measured some water and carefully added it, watching the liquid mix with the powder. I stirred everything together with the back of my syringe until the water was brown and the chunks of powder were gone.

Almost ready.

I flicked my lighter until it caught and held the hot flame to the already burnt bottom of the spoon, allowing it to cook up the dope. When it was hot enough, I extinguished the flame and stirred it again before tossing in a piece of ripped cotton from the q-tip. I carefully edged the needle into the cotton and pulled the plunger back, drawing in all the cooked dope.

I took the black hair elastic from my ponytail and tied it around my right wrist as a makeshift tourniquet. I used to shoot up in the crook of my arms, but those veins have long since collapsed. It was almost impossible to get the pin through the scar tissue to draw any blood from them. My wrists were getting badly scarred, so it would only be a matter of time before those veins were useless, too.

I put my lighter between my wrist and the hair elastic, twisting it a few times to make the band extra tight. I felt around with my finger for a moment, looking for a plump vein that would work. For the next fifteen minutes, I turned myself into a human pin cushion. I had to move my tourniquet a few times while I kept poking and prodding at veins, looking for one that wasn’t too scarred.

My skin was raw and bloody with holes coating the length of my arms and hands when I finally found one. I eased the needle in and pulled the plunger back slightly, finding the burst of crimson that indicated I was in. Knowing that meant I would get my release. I quickly pushed the plunger down, shooting every last drop of the brown liquid into my vein.

The feeling that came over me was so intense and euphoric, I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Good dope was hard to come by lately, but my dealer wasn’t lying earlier when he said this was fire. My eyes closed, too heavy to stay open. I could taste the bitter heroin in the back of my throat. My body was dominated by licks of fire and prickling ice, pins and needles spreading over every square inch of my skin, and I moaned with relief. I enjoyed the waves of pleasure rolling through my body as my sex clenched with desire.

The rush consumed me and took control over all of my senses as my very essence filled with ecstasy. This was the longest rush I’d ever had. My body felt heavy, and I couldn’t lift my arms; my eyes rolled into the back of my skull and my lids were glued shut.

I was so fucking jammed.

I didn’t fight it. I rode the rush towards my freedom, away from unforgiving assholes, disappointments, and dead friends. Away from the shame, sadness, and guilt. Although heroin was an evil thing, it also relieved me of my own real life demons and made everything better…temporarily.

I was in a black abyss where there was nothing to worry about. The ringing in my ears had been replaced with absolute silence, and my body no longer felt weighted down.

I didn’t need to keep my guard up.

I didn’t need to pretend.

I didn’t need to be anything but me.

I wandered in the sea of darkness, enjoying the simpleness of everything and surrendering to my basic senses—taste, smell, hearing, sight, and touch intensified. I could taste and smell the drug dripping down the back of my throat, and I could hear my heartbeat thrum a tune meant only for my ears. I felt the warmth radiating all through my body, shooting ripples of bliss into my core.

I could see a beautiful white light beckoning me forward with the promise of no more pain. I was swept towards it, happy for the escape and ready to leave behind my purgatory and never look back. I had seen this light twice before in different situations, but I’d never made it to its open arms.

I’d never been this close.

I could actually feel the light’s heat.

Right before I was engulfed by the pure, warm light, I saw two shining blue and gold orbs—Ryker Rosse’s eyes, full of honesty and kindness, yet edgy. I even heard his voice breaking through the silence, calling out to me. I was just a few steps from the promise of my freedom, when I was suddenly immersed in absolute darkness.

I saw nothing.

I felt nothing.

I was nothing.

DAMN, THAT GIRL was straight up trying to kill me. I’d just about died when she’d asked me to come upstairs, and it took everything in my power to turn her down—the look on her face when I’d refused her almost made me change my mind, and I never wanted to see her look like that again. But as much as I would have loved to follow her upstairs and find out just how many ways she could bend for me, I couldn’t do that to her. I knew she was attracted to me, the looks I’d caught her giving me at the bar told me as much, but the girl I had talked to in the bar wasn’t the same girl I had talked to outside of her home—she had acted like a different person.

Girls had approached me for sex over the years, and I’d slept with plenty of them…but I had known that they were straight up skanks. Something about Gabby stood out to me, and I knew she wasn’t a whore. Not a real whore.

I didn’t know what it was that attracted me so much to her. I’d admit she looked a little rough, and sadness seemed to consume her, but underneath it all was an obvious natural beauty. And her eyes. Those hazel eyes were downright beautiful, and when she looked at me…they lit up.

They filled with hope.

I didn’t know what she was hoping for, but I had seen that look in my sister’s eyes enough times to know that’s what I saw tonight.

I shook my head, not wanting to think about everything my sister’s gone through. Not right now.

Gabby told me that she usually regretted sleeping with men, but the way she’d said it made me think I was missing something. Maybe one day I’d learn her story, but for now I didn’t want her to regret me. I didn’t want only one night with her. I enjoyed talking to her too much for that.

I wasn’t done with her.

I PULLED INTO a gas station with an adjoining twenty-four hour convenience store. I lived about twenty minutes from the bar, and I wanted to grab a couple cans of Red Bull before making the ride home. When I went to pay for my drinks, I realized that I had Gabby’s phone in my pocket. I remembered her putting it on the steps when we were sitting in front of her house, and I must have grabbed it thinking it was mine.

Dropping it off at her place would give me another excuse to see her again, even if only for a few more minutes.
Maybe when I got there I could give her a proper kiss.
That grade school peck I’d given her was a tease, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about her plump lips and the way they felt against mine. I could only imagine what her tongue tasted like and had to adjust myself at the thought.

I hoped I’d get to find out when I got back there…if she’d even let me near her. She might be pissed off or embarrassed that I’d rejected her, but she needed to know it was out of respect. She knew that I wanted her. Shit, she made me hard as a fucking rock and standing at attention…and I’d made sure that she felt it.

Since I was just around the corner from her house, I hopped on my cruiser and floored it to her place. I wanted to catch her before she fell asleep for the night.

My tires screeched to a stop in front of her apartment, and I jumped off my bike. I ran up the steps, and climbed three flights to the top floor where she lived. As my knuckles rapped on the door, it swung open slightly. I poked my head through the crack. “Gabby, you awake? It’s Ryker.”

No answer.

All the lights were on, so I figured that she was up. I didn’t want to startle her or have her freak out on me, but I at least wanted to give her the phone. I opened the door wider and let myself in.

“Gabby?”

The house was quiet. Maybe she was in the shower. I walked down the short hallway hoping I’d hear the water running.

Just a few steps away, I could tell that the bathroom light was on, but I didn’t hear the shower running, and the door wasn’t closed. When I looked into the room, the sight before me stopped me cold.

Gabby was home all right…just not awake. Her body was strewn about haphazardly in the small area between the toilet and the tub. The wall was holding her up slightly, exposing her upper body, and her head was resting on her chest, too heavy to hold up.

“Gabby?” I ran to her, knowing she wouldn’t respond. I got on my knees and noticed the makeshift tourniquet tied tightly around her forearm. A needle was sticking out of her skin, a thin trail of blood leaking from the injection site, and the surrounding skin was raw and swollen. She’d obviously overdosed on something.

Fuck.

I dialed 9-1-1 on her cell phone that I was still holding in my hand.

“I need an ambulance! She overdosed! 395 Livingston Ave. Get over here now!”

I couldn’t believe this shit was happening. “You can’t die on me, Gabby! I told you I wasn’t done with you!”

When we were sitting at the bar earlier tonight, I’d noticed her hands were scarred. I’d had my suspicions, and I knew this girl had some deep seeded issues, but I hadn’t realized how deep they were. I should have gone upstairs with her.
Shit, what if she had done this because I’d said no to her?
No. It was obvious that Gabby had done this before,

Her breaths were coming in short, sporadic bursts, and her skin was turning blue and clammy to the touch. I lifted one of her eyelids gently but only saw white. Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head.

“Stay with me, Gabby. I’m not leaving you,” I promised, holding her hand as I kissed her knuckles. “Where the hell is that ambulance?”

I eased her out of the cramped space between the toilet and tub, and laid her on the bathroom floor on her left side, her left arm straight out, with her head resting on her arm. I remembered learning in school that this was the recovery position, and I figured it was better than leaving her crumbled against the wall.

I sat on her bathroom floor, stroking her hair and praying that she’d be okay. I’d never dealt firsthand with an overdose. I knew people who’d overdosed and died, but others who survived.

God, please let her survive.

I finally heard the sirens screaming in the distance, and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’d left the door to her apartment open when I got here, so when I heard footsteps and voices, I knew it was the paramedics.