Page 21 of Haunted Prey

“Did Dom get that last recording I sent?”

“Yep.”

“You chucklefucks play games all day?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to say anything else besides those two words, asshole?”

“Maybe.”

Cassidy groaned and stomped away, flipping us off. Andrea went to the kitchen to put her groceries away. She came back a moment later and set a paper bag in front of Leslie.

“Your refill,” she said.

Leslie set the cards down and grabbed the bag. He took out the little pill bottle, shaking it. He set it down, then crumpled the bag and threw it over his shoulder. Andrea rolled her eyes, then looked at me.

I could see she wanted to say something, but she scowled and walked off.

I turned my eyes back to the bottle. “What’s that?”

“Meds.”

“For what?”

“What do you think?”

I stared at him. “You take that shit without getting sick?”

“Yeah.”

I studied his expression, trying to see if he was just being funny. “I don’t believe you.”

Dom took out his phone and typed something, then showed it to me.He used to.

“Shut up, Dom,” Leslie snapped even though he didn’t see the message. Dom shrugged.

“So you got used to it?” I asked.

“You have to in the end if you want to function in this society. I needed to get my head clear so I could do my job.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Months. I went off it after a couple years, hoping I didn’t need it. I was wrong,” he said bitterly.

Another kind of pain tugged at me. It would never go away, the damage that was done.

“So now you take it to manage the…symptoms.”

“Basically,” he said. “Better sleep at least, fewer hallucinations, less panic attacks, less paranoia. Just have to get past the fact that you need a drug to lessen the damage another drug did to you. Sick world, ain't it?”

I nodded.

“You ever try to medicate?” he asked.

I clenched and unclenched my hands. “Yes…”

He leaned forward. “Didn’t work out, huh?”

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