Page 132 of Taste of Addiction

“Who is it?”

My head hurts and I try to remember the image. But it is lost. No. How can that be? I just had it in my memory. Now I just have a ghost still haunting me.

“Sweetheart, did you take any pills last night?”

“No. Nothing. I swear!”

We stare at each other in silence for a minute.

I get my pulse checked, my IV bag changed, and my pupils examined. None of the doctors communicate with me and just exit the room as a trio when they are finished with their examination.

“What happened to me?” I whisper, once the room is empty. “I remember dancing at Slay and being with Claire. I remember Sophia and me fighting on the poker table. But then my brain is foggy.”

“You overdosed. We had to give you Narcan,” he says, looking over to the window. When his attention returns to me, he looks heartbroken—like the light inside of him turned off. “You could have died.”

“I never took anything. I swear it.”

Graham’s eyes look sympathetic but hollow. “You can tell me the truth, Angie. Your blood results do not lie. A whole slew of substances were found in your system.”

“Graham!” I try to sit up farther in my bed, struggling to find the strength to get my arms to work, while not dislodging any cables. “I did not take anything.” Why is this not making more sense to him?

“Okay.”

“I think someone is drugging me. And I think it is someone on the inside,” I whisper. “Who else would have that kind of access to me? I have not been taking anything voluntarily since Baker City. I swear. I think the person who hit James and me is connected to the big ring. I know it sounds crazy, but I think this all ties together. I didn’t think about it before, but there are too many coincidences. Or maybe nothing is a coincidence at all. Maybe this has all been part of some greater plan, and I missed all of the warning signs. Something scratching at the back of my head has me wondering if I’m missing something right in front of my nose.”

“Angie,” he says hesitantly. “I’m very worried about you. We all are.”

There is a knock at the door. My eyes follow the sound and then look at Graham for an explanation.

“Come on in,” he calls, sitting down in a chair close to my bedside.

Collins enters first, followed by a whole lineup of others. Claire and Blake give me a worried smile, while Zander hovers in the background. Everyone surrounds my bed, making a semicircle, staring at me with pity.

Claire rocks on her feet, swaying back and forth. “I guess I will start.” Her voice is so sad that if I wasn’t watching her mouth move, I might not recognize the source. “Angie, you're my very best friend, and I want you to know that my life has been made better from the very moment we met. You have…”

You have got to be kidding me… I drown out Claire’s voice from my mind as she continues talking, scanning each person’s face as I go around the room.

Blake continues with pleasantries but keeps his gaze focused on his shoes. His voice drones on as I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re such a good friend…”

Then it hits me like the force from a gust of wind. This isn’t a come-see-how-I-am-doing type of visit. This is a fucking intervention!

Zander starts talking, but I am too livid to even hear him. And Graham? He looks like he just ate razor blades. Fuck.

“I didn’t take any drugs,” I growl, cutting off Collins who is apparently next in line. I try to get myself out of the bed. I thrash around as Graham tries to keep me still.

“Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“You don’t fucking believe me.” I point an accusatory finger to each person in the room. “None of you believe me.”

“I told you,” Claire shouts to Graham. “I told you she didn’t do this and yet you forced me to participate.”

Collins clears everyone out of the room, not even getting a chance to finish his speech. I feel the prick of pain in my arm and cringe as I pull out my IV in the scuffle.

“Please calm down,” Graham begs. “We’ll get you more help. I’ll do anything it takes.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You relapsed, Angie. Now you have to get clean again,” Dr. Lucian says, walking briskly into the room. She disconnects my IV and bandages up my sore arm. “The sooner you are honest with yourself, the better your chances at overcoming this added hurdle.”

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