Page 45 of Rock Bottom

I followed him. “Where are you going? Shouldn’t you stay here in case he gets worse?”

“Only thing worse than an unconscious addict is one in respiratory or cardiac arrest.” He paused near the front door. “Your CPR certification is up to date, right?”

“Connor…” I started, using his real name.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. “Don’t do this to me, Christian. It’s hard enough for me to be objective here.”

“I know dealing with addicts is hard for you because of your own struggle, but he needs a doctor, not a soldier.” I put a hand on his shoulder.

Wattson clenched his jaw and looked away. “What do you want from me? You want me to tell you he’ll pull through? He probably will. Until the day he doesn’t. Addiction isn’t like a bullet hole. You can’t just patch an addict up and send them back out. This is something he’ll live with every day for the rest of his life. It’s more like a cancer. It’s going to eat at him, destroy him from the inside out until there is no more Dante. All that’ll be left is a numb shell.” He turned to go.

“You did,” I called after him and he paused in the doorway. “You kicked your addiction to pain killers, doc. He can change too.”

He put his hand out like he was using the door to support himself and dropped his chin to his chest. “I wish I had your faith in people, Church. I really do. I’ll keep my phone on in case you need me, and I’ll be back in a few hours to check on him.”

I watched him pull out of the driveway, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut. Deep down, I knew Wattson was right. There wasn’t anything anyone could do for Dante now except pray and wait.

I opened my eyes a tiny slit and found Church and Bowie staring down at me. “What the fuck?” I said, or tried to. The words didn’t come out right because my mouth was dry. I tried lifting my arm so I could wipe spittle from my chin, but that wasn’t working right either. My limbs felt heavy and awkwardly sized, like I’d somehow grown ten feet in my sleep.

I grunted and closed my eyes again, half tempted to go back to sleep. Then the events from the night before came rushing back, and I tried to sit up. Dizziness slammed into me like a brick wall, and the next thing I knew, I was hanging my head over a trash can that someone else was holding and gagging on vomit.

“Easy,” Church said, easing me back onto the bed. “Take it easy. You’ve had a rough night.”

Bowie was less gentle. “What’d you take last night, kid?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Bowie spat. “We took some of your blood. Whatever it was, we’re going to find it, so you might as well tell us so we can get you cleaned up.”

“I had two beers,” I growled. “And then…”

I reached for the memory, but there was a blank space where it should’ve been. I remembered going to Tappy’s with Oscar. He apologized again when he came back with the second beer. I hadn’t had time to get away, so I gulped down the second one to give myself an excuse to go use the bathroom and then…

Then nothing. The next thing I remembered was waking up with them staring down at me. Everything in between was a black void like it’d never happened.

There was the sound of the front door opening and footsteps. For the first time, I looked at my surroundings. I was in an unfamiliar room where everything was perfectly neat and tidy, and the walls were bare. Church’s room. What the fuck was I doing in there?

Wattson pushed through the bedroom door. He adjusted the wire-frame glasses sitting high on his nose before shoving a stapled stack of papers at Church and announcing, “It’s GHB.”

“The date rape drug?” Church asked, taking the papers and flipping through them.

“Also known as liquid ecstasy.” Wattson crossed his arms and gave me a stern look.

“I didn’t take that,” I said, shaking my head. “Someone must’ve put it in my drink.”

“That someone being Oscar.” Church passed the papers to Bowie. “Considering he was trying to stuff you into his car when I got there.”

I rubbed my hands over my face. “Oh my God. He was going to…”

My chest tightened and my eyes darted around the room from face to face. Were they judging me? Of course they were. Church already thought I was disgusting. The rest of them probably thought I was asking for it by sneaking out with him. They thought I deserved to be taught a lesson, that I deserved…

My stomach churned, but there was nothing left in it to come out. I suddenly felt like every inch of me was covered in gritty dirt that I was desperate to wash away. I threw aside the blanket covering me. “I need a shower.”

“You need to rest.” Church put a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place.

I shoved his hand away in a panic. “Don’t touch me!”

Church recoiled like I’d slapped him and an awkward, heavy silence settled on the room. The pressure in my chest got worse with every passing second. I wanted to throw myself into the mattress and cry, but I wasn’t going to do that now, in front of them. They already thought I was a disgusting diva who deserved to be taken advantage of. I wasn’t going to throw fuel on the fire.

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