Page 45 of Disturbed Lucidity

I didn’t need to be fixed. As for those meds he called in, they were sitting nicely lined up on the counter near the far wall. He could shove them up his ass for all I cared. I wasn’t taking anymore meds. Take me or leave me, I didn’t give a fuck. I was done hiding who I was. It was time to embrace the disturbed reality that I would never change.

And why should I?

My whole damn life, I’d played many roles: the child, the doll, the plaything, the toy, the whore.

I was done.

After last night, I was done pretending.

Now, they were going to get the real Ivy.

Whoever the fuck she was.

The door opened and Logic walked in. Upon seeing me awake, he smiled.

“You’re awake.”

“Been awake.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, walking over to stop the saline bag and remove the needle.

“Pissed.”

“I imagine after everything you’ve been through; you’re allowed to be pissed.”

“Thank you for your permission. Now, can I get the fuck out of here or am I a hostage?”

“Not a hostage, Ivy, but we need to talk about your meds.”

“Give them to someone who needs them. I don’t.”

Placing a Band-Aid on my arm, Logic stepped back when I sat up. Leaning against the wall, he removed the latex gloves he was wearing and sighed. “You had a D.I.D. episode, Ivy. Slash found you in a homeless encampment, whacked out of your mind.”

“Is that a medical term, or are you dumbing it down for me, ‘cause if you are, there is no need. I’m pretty sure I have the highest I.Q. in this place.”

Logic smirked. “Yeah, you’re probably right. What triggered this episode?”

Swinging my legs over the side of the gurney, I looked at the man, shook my head, and jumped to my feet. Stretching my hands above my head, I smiled. “That’s for me to know and you to find out, Doc. Now, where is Luc? He and I need to have a talk.”

“Don’t want to test him right now, Ivy. He’s at his limit.”

Smirking, I shrugged my shoulders, heading for the door. “Good, then he will be easy to push over the cliff.”

Walking out of the club’s infirmary, I spotted Slash walking toward me. The son of a bitch had the gall to smile at me. Too bad for him he was on my shit list. Before he could say a fucking word, I hauled off and punched him in the gut.

Gasping for air, he bent over. “Jesus fuck, Ivy, did you have to hit me that hard? I think you shifted my pancreas.”

“What’s the fucking rule, Michael?”

Moaning, he breathed through the pain. “Don’t talk about you, ever.”

Leaning close, I whispered, “That’s right. You ever talk about me again and I will remove your pancreas with my bare hands. Got it?”

He swiftly nodded.

“Where is Luc?”

“Upstairs,” Slash groaned, trying to stand.

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