Page 81 of Seizing Control: Part One

When?

Why?

I snatch Nadia’s drink out of her hands and drain the contents in one go. If this conversation is going to happen, then I need sustenance. Head spinning, I turn on my heel and disappear into the throngs of people crowding my home.

My home.

Jesus.

As the truth hits, I hunt for my favourite supplier of top-shelf chemical avoidance.

Whenever someone stops me to offer their congratulations on my impending marriage while I’m searching for my brother-in-law, I steal whatever alcoholic beverage they’re holding from their hand and drain the lot of it. Time after time, I repeat the manoeuvre, ignoring the strange looks my actions garner, until I spot my target’s bleach blond head bobbing above the crowd as he makes his way toward an exit.

“Hunter.” I take hold of his wrist when I reach him. Although he stiffens at my touch, he turns to me with a smile that quickly fades as he scans my face. “Please tell me you have something on you?”

“Mumma told me I’m banned from providin’ you with anythin’.” The younger man grimaces when a brother from the Brisbane chapter interrupts us to exchange a high five. He takes his travel pack of disinfecting wipes, extricates a damp sheet, and cleans his hand as he tells me, “On the promise of punishment via eviction.”

“But it’s my Hen’s night,” I whine.

“Is it, though? Like, really... you already married Slash. Tomorrow’s just for show.”

His forehead wrinkles adorably when I frown. “I didn’t have a party before that wedding.”

“So?” Confusion darkens his pale-blue eyes, and he scuffs his booted foot along the floor. “I don’t know why that matters. Mumma was very clear—it’s a blanket ban. No way am I endin’ up homeless over your need to get high.”

“Getting’ high... that seems like more my department than Hunt’s.” Toker comes up behind me. My cousin slings his arm over my shoulder and drags me away from Slash’s little brother before I can plead with him to make an exception for me. “Leave him alone,” he chides once there’s some space between us and the boy I was wheedling. “You know he’ll give in to you, then Mumma C’ll have a go at him, and Slash’ll make a big fuckin’ deal out of it. It’ll become a thing, when it doesn’t need to become a thing.”

“What about what I need?” A hiccup erupts from my mouth before I can stop it. I feel my cheeks heating as I admit, “I can’t deal with all the questions with an outlet—an escape. This is too much to face straight...”

“Here.” My cousin presents me with the joint he has tucked behind his ear. “Get baked. Relax. Make the most of your final night of singledom... just stay away from the hard stuff.”

I accept the weed and the lighter he procures from his cut with trembling fingers. Sparking the wheel, once, twice, then a third time, I hold the steady flame to the end and inhale greedily. The smoke burns my lungs, and I take pride in suffering through it. When the need to breathe becomes urgent, I exhale fast, then force myself to slowly drag in another hit. I follow that pattern another two times, relishing the burn each time. The cannabis mixes with the alcohol I stole from my guests, and an artificial sense of calm floods my body.

“Here,” I say with a cough, holding out the spliff to him. “Finish that.”

Toker chuckles. “Finish what? Looks to me like you’ve done that all on your own.”

“Ya think?” My words are slow. My blinking, when I remember to do it, is even slower. I peer at the barely smouldering roach. It’s almost gone. Giggling, I lift the wet end to my lips and re-spark the lighter. When my eyesight wavers, my shoulders start to shake as I collapse into a fit of laughter. “Well, that’s done it… I’m high as fuck.”

“Nothin’ but the best for my little cuz… no hydroponic shit here. Only home-grown Aussie Mary Jane.”

“You’re funny.” I bop the end of his nose. Stumbling forward, I rest my cheek against his heart and hug him tight around the waist. Toker’s arms circle my back, and he sways me from side to side. “Life sucks, but it’s also good. That makes no sense, right? Like, half of my heart is locked up, the other half is avoiding me.” Raising my arm, I wave my left hand in his face to show him my new ring. “I haven’t seen my husband since our wedding. But I’m also happy that everyone I love has come tonight.” I lower my voice to a whisper as I confess, “Almost everyone. I’m in heaven and hell at the same time—what am I supposed to do about that? I can’t laugh because I want to cry, but I can’t cry ’cause I wanna laugh.”

Although my words are slurred, Toker must get my gist. “All ya can do, little Cherub, is hold on. For tonight. Tomorrow. And every day that comes after that, until the dust settles.”

“It’ll never settle.”

“Yeah, it will. It has to—’cause you’re one’a the best people I know and if you can’t have a happily-ever-after, none of us can.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Tilting my head back, I smile up at him. He looks down at me with eyes filled with affection. “You’re in love with Delia.”

“And you’re baked.” Toker glances past me, executing one of those cute chin lifts all the men I know can pull off without any effort. A warm arm settles around my neck, and I happily lean into the Nadia-scented form that appears next to me. “She’s high as a motherfucker. Keep her like that—but keep her safe at the same time. I want one of you sleepin’ with her, she’s not to be left alone for a second.”

“I’ll look after her.”

“Don’t make me rage at you, Nads… I’m countin’ on you.”

“She’s my best friend,’ Nadia retorts. She cuddles me closer. I lean on her heavily as the weed and alcohol continue to settle into my system and cloud out all of my problems. “Nothing’ll ever happen to her again on my watch—so you might wanna button your lip before I get an inklin’ to set somethin’ on fire. Your build-a-bear collection would burn de-light-fully.”

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