Page 154 of Taste of Addiction

i am a drug addict.

i am a self-harm expert.

everything you think of me is true. maybe you wanted to break me. problem is, you can’t break what is already broken. i have been hiding behind a previous injury from a car accident and using that pain to justify my need for drugs. i lied. i stole. i hurt not only myself, but everyone who still decided to care about me despite the shitty things i did.

drug addiction sucks. it is not glamorous. it is a vile snake that infiltrates your veins and doesn’t stop stealing your oxygen until you either are snuffed out or you wake up one day and decide to get help.

i am getting help. i made the choice, and i make the choice every single day to not use a pill to cope with the things that haunt me. there is help for those who feel helpless. if you are using anything to mask the pain you feel inside, know that for every person who tries to knock you down, there is another waiting to help you stand up again.

When I am satisfied with my work, I submit it to every online media outlet I can think of in the state of Oregon. I also post it on all of the social media platforms I am a part of and any blogs that allow submissions. While the article is very therapeutic for me, I want others to read it and know that there is hope for the hopeless.

Sure, Owen and Bryce tried to make me look senile by keeping me drugged. However, I was the one who got that ball rolling. I am responsible. It is about time my true story gets heard. I am tired of trying to hide what has happened to me when my story can easily help others learn to rise above.

I close my laptop and take a few cleansing breaths.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” Graham asks from the doorway to our bedroom. His shirtless body covered in a sheen of sweat lets me know he just finished up one of his workouts.

“It is better than okay,” I say with confidence. “I’m just glad you found me when I needed you most.” I am referring to the first time we met outside at the mansion’s pool. But he has continued to find me on several other occasions.

He always finds me.

Graham saunters over to the bed, leans down, and kisses my lips. “If you haven’t heard me the other dozen or so times I have told you, I will say it again. I am proud of you. You can do anything that you set your mind to.”

And for the first time in forever, I actually believe it.

27

“You promise this isn’t weird?” Claire asks me from the comfort of the backseat of the SUV.

Graham and Nic are riding in the front, deep in conversation about potential job possibilities now that everything with the FBI is settled. Thankfully being informants protects them from ever having to testify or reveal their identities to the general population.

“I promise. Please stop obsessing,” I say, reaching over to squeeze her hand to emphasize my words. “You are family to me. I just wish your biological one would see what they are missing out on. How incredible you are. Selfless and kind.”

Tears roll down Claire’s cheeks.

“Got any tissues up there?” I ask, catching a glance back from Nic. He looks between me and Claire, sighing. He is about as uncomfortable with a girl crying as probably shopping for tampons. His trepidation is written all over his hard facial features. “This isn’t a show; just pass me some tissues.”

“Here.” I accept the napkins that he pulls out of the glove box, helping Claire dry up her face. “And as for Ethan brushing you off, I have no words.”

“I get it, I do,” Claire swears. “He has another family and a son who needs him. I just thought by now I would have integrated into his life better than I have. I feel like a square trying to fit into a hole meant for a circle. I think we just need time.”

“Have you decided?”

She bites her lower lip. “I think so. But I want to still sleep on it a few nights.”

I squeeze her hand. “Regardless of what happens or what you decide, I’m here for you. No matter what.”

“Friends forever?” she asks through teary eyes.

I smile. “Friends forever.”

I look out the window as we head out of the city. A light blanket of snow covers the trees. It is a winter wonderland. I catch Graham’s watchful eyes in the rearview mirror, and I see love reflected back at me. He has given me a reason to love holidays again.

“Did I tell you how excited I am to give you all your Christmas gifts?” I ask loudly enough for the entire crew to hear. I am bouncing with energy, about to blurt out what they are.

“Only about a dozen or so times,” Nic says with a chuckle.

“Pretty sure it cannot top the gift you have already given me,” Graham says.

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