Page 45 of Wreckin' Amethyst

Well, Sasha Lloyd, you’ve successfully entered yourself into sex-rehab and you didn’t have to screw the receptionist to get in. Con phase one – check. Now I just need to locate Myles.

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Entering the rec room, I take a moment to adjust to the glaring sunlight streaming through the all-glass ceiling and outer walls. Warmth floods the white t-shirt and grey sweatpants I’m wearing, standard issue thanks to the fully stocked wardrobe in my suite. Canvas shoes with soft insoles scuff against the tiled floor as I move further within.

Shielding my eyes with my hand, I find a cluster of tables pushed against one side. In the space where they were, several women in matching attire kneel on the floor over the biggest jigsaw puzzle I’ve ever seen. A sea of penguins cover the part they’ve managed to piece together, the mix of black and white making it nearly impossible to decipher which bit goes where. Avoiding them, I head outside to where a tall blonde is playing cards alone on the patio. There’s a few more women scattered around the grounds, doing lengths in the swimming pool or playing in the tennis court.

“Um…where are the dudes?” I ask the card player, not bothering to introduce myself.

“Oh hi, I’m Jo. A pleasure to meet you,” she drawls, rolling her blue eyes. Despite wearing the same as me, she somehow carries herself with a regal manner. Basically, her back is extraordinarily straight and she smells like money.

“Yeah, yeah. Sasha – where are the hunky men?”

“You’re in the female building,” she pauses long enough to raise a brow at me. Rearranging the cards in her hand, I drop into the empty seat across from her.

“I’m in the what-e-what?” I stammer, envisioning my perfect plan shredding before my eyes.

“The men’s building is across the lake,” she points without looking. Exactly like she said, beneath a glorious landscape of mountain ranges, there’s a mirror-image of this damn building across a shimmering body of water.Fuck. “It’s a sex addiction clinic. They’re not going to have mixed living quarters. Watch out for Ruby though,” Jo leans forward to whisper, “she’s a raging lesbian.”

I follow her eyeline to a sun-kissed woman sitting on a bench amongst the grass. She’s hunched over a stack of notebooks, seemingly writing in five at once, a huge pair of headphones over her ears. As if sensing my gaze, she suddenly lifts her head, spearing me with wide eyes through huge-rimmed glasses. I spin around, dealing myself into Jo’s game.

“So…we never get to see the men?” I try to sound nonchalant. I think we’re playing an OCD version of snap, stacking cards by number and color.

“Well, only in the group therapy talks, under supervision,” Jo shrugs. “There’s occasionally an afternoon tea party mixer. We have to prove we’re under control around the opposite sex before we can be discharged.”

“Did someone say sex?!” Ruby jolts upright like a meerkat. How the hell did she hear that through her headphones?

“No Ruby, go back to your writing,” Jo sighs.

“Word porn! My fingers are ejaculating fictional cum all over these pages like l’m fondling the ink into submission!" She licks the tip of her pen and returns it to the page, moaning as she . "Come for me, my sweet, naughty cursive. Yeah, you like that don't you?” I don’t know whether to watch in fascination or ask for an orderly to bring a chastity belt. Jo continues, her tone bored and unamused.

“She’s the daughter of a senator who loves writing stories of lesbian fae with vaginas for mouths.”

“They have pussy lips for lips. It’s fucking genius and hot!” Ruby shouts, followed by the tumbling of books. Oh god, she’s coming closer. “Imagine if my tongue piercing was a clit,” she takes the seat beside me and rolls her tongue in an impressive notion. “We could pleasure each other every time we made out. Mouth fucking just got a whole new meaning.” Leaning far, far back, I speak for Jo’s ears only.

“Are you sure she’s in the right facility? Maybe a psych ward would be better suited.”

“I’m not crazy?!” Ruby’s light brown eyes widen as she climbs across the length of my body like a crazed koala. I shake my head, mumbling of course not. “I’m horny, and eccentric but mostly horny as hell. We could help each other out right? You could be my late-night love bug and I’ll be your daylight dominatrix. It would be beautiful.” Lifting a hand, Ruby shifts my black wig to peer at my neck. Then, she growls like a freaking bloodthirsty vampire and I’m sure she’s about to bite me.

“Anyways,” I shoot to my feet. “I’ve got…something to do, somewhere else. I’ll see you guys…” I walk away before finishing that sentence, “hopefully never again.” Sprinting inside, I crash into Carl. He grumbles, correcting his white jacket before shoving an envelope into my hand.

“Here, your care plan. Don’t lose it. I’m not printing you another one.” Retreating, I watch Carl take a side door which also requires a keycard to access. The clanging beyond would suggest it’s a kitchen before the smell of freshly baked bread reaches me. My stomach growls on instinct. Retreating to a shadowed table near the back of the rec room, I pull out my care plan, finding a copy of the leisure classes and an enclosed map.Idiots.

I was right, the kitchen is next door between this rec room and a restaurant. Directly above, mixed in with the personal suites, are various spa and beauty rooms, hydration and aromatherapy chambers and such. The sauna and steam rooms seem to be beneath me in an inground pool grotto. At the other end of the building, the counseling and therapy rooms backing onto a parking lot, providing easy access for our male visitors.

That only leaves my care plan. I scan the document, only picking out what I need to know and my heart sinks. I have to survive four days here until my first group therapy session, and even then, there’s no guarantee Myles will be in attendance.

“Attention ladies,” Elizabeth walks into the room with a clipboard in hand. “There are still slots open for massages and pedicures. Do we have any takers?” Everyone ignores her in favor of finishing their jigsaw or heading out to the pool, so I tentatively raise my hand. “Oh Sasha, what a fantastic way to begin your stay with us. Come have some pampering before dinner.”

You know what – maybe these next four days won’t be so bad after all.

Chapter 30

AKA 'Sasha'

Myfoottapsagainstthe chair leg impatiently. Unfolding my arms, I huff and fold them again. How long is this going to take to get started? I was forty-five minutes early, but in my defense, there was only so many kinks Helga, the butch masseuse, could press out of my back. I’m as limber as a gymnast and if I touch anything, I might break one of my perfectly manicured nails.

The therapy room begins to fill from behind, women taking the seats in a circle around me, leaving every other one free. Two seats over, Jo lowers herself down as Ruby bounds into the room like a rabbit on crack. The last to enter is the only one of us to not wear sweatpants, and it turns out – she's not one of us after all. A tall, full figured woman with a flashy lanyard strides by to open the rear doors as, fina-fucking-lly, a minivan pulls up outside. My foot stills.

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