Page 19 of Blue

Jazzy was wrong. And I didn’t think she knew Blue at all, or she’d see what I did. Blue was broken, too, and he needed someone to fix. I couldn’t stay clean for me, but I’d fight my demons for Blue. “This time, I’m ready.”

“I’m not a rehab, Kiss. I can get you through the detox, but you need to go to treatment.”

“I know, but—” I took a breath to argue, but she interrupted me.

“No, we’re not going to fight about it. I’m not going to watch you hurt yourself, and I’m not going to let you put Blue through this shit. You’re an addict, Kiss. It’s time to start hearing the truth. No going for one more hit. No excuses. No debate. If you want my help, it comes with strings, the steel-belted type.”

I understood, and this time, I was going to quit black. But I had to admit just thinking those words had fear bursting inside me. Like going back to an abusive boyfriend, I’d convince myself I could handle the relationship in small doses. But I couldn’t. My body began to shake because I knew what was coming. Stomach cramps, anxiety, fever, nausea, runny nose, sweating. Up all fucking night, I’d wish for just a little to chase the pain.

Jazzy grabbed onto my hands and held them tightly. “It’s okay, baby girl. Rock bottom isn’t the end. It’s the foundation. But we both know the next week is going to be rough. How bad is your habit?”

“At least once or twice a day. But small hits. I’m mostly smoking it.” I’d been on a few binges, too. “I’m getting sick, but I’m not in deep this time.” I needed it to hurt. I needed to hate black more than I loved the high. I needed it to be hard because this was the last time. “I promise. I’m ready.”

Jazzy wrapped her arms around me. “You’re going to hate me.”

“I won’t.” I clung to her.

She inched back. “You will, but it’s okay. I can take it. When you decide it’s not worth it, because I promise, the drugs are going to fuck with your head, I swear, I’ll chain you up in the basement of the MC.”

Panic gripped me. “Not the MC.” I wasn’t ready to go back. They’d hate me for what I’d done to Blue. Levi hated me. Romeo hated me. Blade would hate me if he ever found out what I’d done with Razor.

They’d all hate me if they discovered I’d gotten in bed with Crawlers.

Jazzy cocked a brow. “I guess that’s a good reason not to run.” She pointed to the backpack. “Is there anything in there that would get you high?”

“Probably.” I dragged the backpack onto my lap. The backpack was my way to run. My go bag. I slid it over to Jazzy. “I don’t need it if I’m not running.”

“Good girl. Courage is victory over your fears.” She grabbed the backpack. “Do you want to take a shower? I have clothes you can wear. You’re not going to want anything but one of Rogue’s T-shirts and a pair of loose shorts.”

I’d rather have one of Blue’s shirts, but if Jazzy had one of Blue’s shirts, I’d be hurt. Because it would be too intimate for friendship. I mentally smiled, Rogue would go crazy if Jazzy wore another man’s shirt.

She wiped a tear from my cheek. “It’s going to be hard, but you’re a Heller, and you’ve got this. The first twenty-four hours are the worst. The cravings will come on like waves. Make it through one, and then the next, and eventually, you’ll get through it. I’m going to force you to drink fluids and eat.”

“I know.” I was using but I hadn’t built up a tolerance to it yet. I could only pray that meant my withdrawal symptoms wouldn’t last as long.

Jazzy led me to the bathroom, handed me a change of clothes, and tried to give me an encouraging smile. Then she left me alone with my reflection. I stripped, stared into the bathroom mirror, and tried to see me as Blue had to see me.

Why would he be attracted to me? I was a junkie.

I’d changed. My insecurities weren’t buried deep inside me, not anymore. I wore my addiction. My pupils were blown, and my skin wasn’t bronzed from rides on the back of a bike. I was dope sick and too thin to be healthy. I used to brag that my body was a playground for guys. I was a whore before heroin.

In junior high, I’d been on the cheer squad with Levi. We’d only lasted a year. I’d been more interested in the boys on the field than on cheering for the team. Levi had been good. Too good. Romeo would watch her practice, so I convinced her to quit, too.

I never wanted to be this girl again. Blue had searched for me, and he’d found me. “He claims I’m worth fighting for,” I told my reflection. I wasn’t, buthewas.

After the shower, I put on the clothes Jazzy had left for me. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Blue sat with Jazzy and Rogue at the small kitchen table. Baconscented the air, and another pot of coffee brewed on the counter.

Blue stood from the table and approached. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want anything in my stomach when the sickness hit.

Rogue’s chair scraped the flooring as he pushed away from the table and refilled his coffee cup. “Sit,” he said to me.

Blue’s gaze tracked down my body. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, I tucked my wet hair behind my ear. “Jazzy gave me clothes to wear.”

“She didn’t have one of her own shirts you could wear?” He ushered me to the table and held out the chair next to his. “You need to eat.” His words came out clipped. I didn’t have to guess why he was upset. He didn’t like me in Rogue’s shirt. I shouldn’t be buzzing on the inside, but that had to mean something.

“We’ve been discussing the situation,” Rogue said taking his seat again. “Since you’ll be here for a few days, I’ll sleep in the house.”

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