Addicted | ✔

C h a p t e r F i f t y - S e v e n

                                                                      PART FIFTY SEVEN

                                             ❝I would come back, if you just called.❞

I had lied, which was not out of the normal. I told him I was just having fun. Now, when school's give presentations on drug addicts, and make you sign the D.A.R.E pledge (I promise NOT to do drugs, avoid violence, be responsible, & make responsible choices.) Bullshit, they do not take into account how much you will fullheartleadly sign it. As a child, not as a teenager. Sure, they show photos of women's mugshots, their faces fucked and their teeth rotted out form the meth. Those things scare you. But not enough to say no when someone offers you your first hit.

Those were the thoughts fleeting through my head when I woke up. The first thing I saw, was the peeling paint on the walls and the smell of the dank room. Jack, was not next to me anymore and my daughter was not in the pack n play I had semi put together last night, higher than a mother fucking kite. I untangled myself from the sheets standing up. My unsteady feet carried me to the bathroom. I wasn't aware that I was reaching for the needle, still with a little bit of substance in it. I took a step back. Fuck it.  

After my breathing returned to normal, and I stopped sweating I called Jack. The time on my phone was twelve in the afternoon, roughly time for Evie's nap. The one thing I trusted Jack with other than being a supreme douchebag was our daughter. I would lelt him kill me if he was still a model father to her. Maybe it was because she hadn't done anything wrong to him. 

"Morning sunshine." Jack answered picking up on the second ring. 

"You have her?" 

"No I'm currently getting my dick sucked by a stripper in an alleyway and she's laying in a pile of broken glass. Jesus christ yes of course I have her." He said, sarcastically. 

"I'd suck someone's dick in an alleyway." I replied, same level of sarcasm. I could practically hear Jack's eye roll.

"We'll have to try that out sometime, we're on our way back I just had to meet a few people."

The phone clicked. I knew what, meet a few people meant. He had taken our still infant daughter to sell drugs. I showered, changed clothes, grateful to have brought my own clothes with me. I flicked through some channels on the TV. I was in the midst of watching Bart Simpson's antics, when the door swung open and Jack appeared, my daughter cradled protectivley in his arms, holding a stack of bills. 

With the light shining on him, I could've seen how he might have made a boxer. Heavy and broad shoulders, strong arms and the body type that is generally scary. I took Evie from him, not daring to leave the safety and support of the bed. Jack sized me up, my damp hair, scrubbed skin, and sweats.

"You shoot up this morning?" He asked, a hint of concern in his voice. I shrugged. 

"What if I did, I can't live it up anymore?" 

"Not now that your a mom, maybe you could at least try a little." 

"How would I do that Jack? How do you try?" I felt my voice breaking, like waves on a rocky beach. Jack shrugged. 

"I make all of our money, the only thing your supposed to do is take care of our daughter and not be so high you can't stop shaking." He snapped. He had a point, but for once in the past year I felt happy. Didn't he want me to be happy?

"You make shit money and you sell drugs." I replied, a coarsness in my voice that had not been present before. He shifted his eye's to Evie who was pulling my damp hair, cooing as little droplets fell on her.

"You had a job." He replied.

"I had a job so I could fuck my ex, and fuck Wyatt." I snipped. I saw the same look in his eyes then, that I saw every time he hit me. Now normally I would've held my daughter a little closer to my heart, this time I didn't even move as he walked toward me. I am not sure why I said what I said next, but it was most likely because I needed too, if he could be a dick to me he could know how much of a dick I had been to him.

"Oh and, Alex your best friend? Him too." I said smirking. I blame the drugs, for me saying that to a man who clearly had no control over his emotions. His eyebrows shot up and I smiled. He took my daughter from my arms then and placed her in her bed. Then he turned to me.

"Do you realize why we are here?" He asked, advancing. I pressed my palms against the cold sheets.

"Because you fucking killed a guy?" I griped. Not sure why he was blaming me for our living conditions. Now he was practically on top of me he was standing so close. I smirked. I wondered if this would provoke him more, or realize he wasn't hurting me.

"No. Because you, are a whore. I see what you wear around my friends. You want them more than you've ever wanted me. Even if he did drug you, and rape you. I would've done the same fucking thing, because your fucking worthless." He said, I did not so much feel my nose break but I felt it, I did not so much as realize my eye was swollen until I could not open it. And I didn't realize my husband had just walked out the door, until it slammed behind him. But I did hear my child crying, and with the blood, the swelling I did not get up I burried my face into the sheets and sobbed.