Gateway Drug | Volume I

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Eight

Warning(s):
Explicit language
Drug abuse
Verbal abuse
Explicit sexual situations
Graphic mention of suicide

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"We can get your stuff up and drop it off later." Duff offers as I pull my shoes on and grab my car keys.

"Okay."

"Don't forget your purse." He adds, and I grab it from the coffee table.

"You alright going by yourself, Viv?" Steven asks me and I tuck a strand of wet hair behind my ear.

"Doc's meeting me there." I tell him.

"So, you don't know if he's okay?" He asks next and I exhale.

"No. I don't, and I really, really don't want to think of him not being okay so let's just not talk about it." I tell him, stepping to the door.

"Well, can you call us and let me know how he's holding up?" He follows me to the door and I nod. 

"I will." I assure him, grabbing his hand in mine and squeezing it for a moment. "Thank you for letting me stay with you. I love you, I'll talk to you later." I say to him.

"Love you, too." He replies, smiling a little.

I leave to my car and head home as fast as I can. 

I hate to be morbid, but every worst case scenario was flashing through my mind.
He had a plethora of all sorts of drugs throughout the house, plenty of sharp knives around, we had a pool, he kept a gun in our room...there was no shortage of suicide attempts or methods to use if he felt in the shock of Nona's death, that he couldn't go on.

And that's all I could focus on the entire way to the house.

I punch the code in the gate and as soon as I get in the driveway, I'm putting the Corvette in park, yanking the keys out, bursting out of the car and sprinting up the stairs to the front door, my shaking hands fumbling to unlock it.

The second I get the door open, it's pretty obvious Nikki hasn't kept the house up. At all.

Clothes are on the floor, empty cling wrap that obviously housed bindles of coke are scattered about, empty liquor bottles decorate almost every flat surface, empty syringes randomly placed throughout the living room and a bitter, familiar smell violates my nostrils from the kitchen.

I slowly make my way to our bedroom, looking around for Nikki.

His closet door is open, revealing a floor littered with needles, lumps of tar, pills and blow...and a crack pipe.

"Well, that's a new demon." I mumble, disappointed, before stepping to our bathroom.

I open the door, and sigh with relief at the sight of him in the bathtub, staring off.

I'm 99.9% sure he's stoned out of his mind.

"Nikki?" I ask him softly, getting on my knees beside the bathtub.

I notice a disgusting looking clumpy mixture is floating atop the water, and I realize it's vomit.

"Babe." I say more sternly this time, hoping to get a reaction. His dead, somber eyes shift to me. "C'mon, let's get out." I suggest, reaching into the water that's turned cold from him being in here for long.