“Whatever I got? Well, that doesn’t narrow it down much.” He glimpsed the track marks on my arm.
“Ahhh. You want the smack, no? Getting harder to come by. I’m waiting for my boys to bring me back some good shit from Mexico.”
“So, you don’t have anything?” Trish was beginning to panic.
He looked past me to Trish. He eyed her up and down slowly.
“For this chica, I could come up with something.” Tico jumped off the bed and pulled out a metal box. Unlocking it, he produced a balloon.
He dipped his finger into it and showed us the tip.
“Would this do?”
It was white. I was skeptical. It could’ve been cocaine. I would need to dab a bit on my tongue to test it.
“May I?” I asked leaning forward.
He jerked the balloon back.
“She can.”
Eagerly, Trish dipped her finger into the powder. Dabbing it onto her tongue, she beamed.
“It’s good!” She nearly jumped up and down.
“Two bills.”
“What?” My eyes bulged.
“Two bills, you heard me.”
Normally, that balloon wouldn’t even be a hundred dollars. Now this asshole wanted two hundred dollars!
Still, we were desperate and that prick knew that the supply on this side of town had dried up.
“Fine.” I tossed him the two bills and we fled.
Racing back to the car, I knew Trish would want to get high before we got home. I had anticipated that and hadn’t brought our works with us.
Trish immediately opened the glove box. She tore through it furiously searching for a set of works.
“Dammit, Ayden! Where’s the works?”
I smiled at her and shook my head.
“You’ll have to wait until we get home.”
Her eyes blazed with fury at me. She spat at me.
“You fucker! You did that on purpose!”
I wiped her spittle from my cheek.
“Trish, it’s just a few miles. Calm the fuck down.” I swatted her thigh.
She pouted all the way back to our apartment.
As soon as we got upstairs, I quickly locked the door to our apartment. Trish raced to the cabinet to dig out some fresh syringes. I already had the powder laid out as we each grabbed a lighter and a spoon.
“Do you have a tourniquet?” I asked her looking around. She shook her head.
“Can’t find a good vein. Last time I had to shoot in my foot.”
Feeling concerned for her, I sat my own needle aside to see what she was going to do.
“I want to shoot in my neck. Do you think you can help me, Ayden?” Her green eyes pleaded with me.
“I don’t know, Trish. Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”
She shrugged.
“Not any more dangerous than shooting anywhere else. I’ve done it before. It’s just a bitch to try and do yourself.”
She held the lighter beneath the spoon as soon as it got hot she dropped the filter in. I watched as she drew the liquid up into the syringe.
“Now fix me.”
Trish pulled back her long hair and I tapped on her neck. It took a moment to get the vein to bulge a bit.
“Is it bulging?”
“Yeah.”
“Then fucking push it in!”
With trepidation, I pushed the plunger down injecting the heroin into her neck. Immediately, her eyes rolled back as she fell against the bed.
“That’s really good shit,” she whispered.
Quickly, I finished fixing my own dose up and pushed off right next to her. I fell back and pulled her into my arms.
“Ayden, I love you,” she murmured. I caressed her hair. Soon, we both drifted off relishing the high.
Suddenly, my eyes popped open. My cheek was throbbing with pain. I rolled over and realized I was on the bathroom floor. The sour stench of vomit penetrated my nostrils as I noticed I was lying in a puddle of it. Scrambling to my feet, I flipped on the faucet and rinsed my face.
Coming down was always the worst. I stumbled around looking for Trish. How the hell had I ended up in the bathroom? How long had I been out? Trish was right it had been potent stuff.
Trish was still lying curled up on the bed.
“Trish, get up. We’ve got enough to each do another fix.”
No reply.
I walked over to her and nudged her.
“Trish, wake up.”
Still, she remained silent.
How could she still be high? I wondered. I sank down on the bed beside her.
Then I noticed the rest of the balloon dumped out on the night stand….
Had she done another shot?
Reaching out, I gingerly touched her arm.
It was cool to the touch.
Oh my God.
I held my breath as I turned her onto her back.
Her face was blue. Her lips were purple. Her eyes were half open and glazed over. Her mouth had foam crusted around it. Grabbing her wrist, I felt for a pulse. I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I detected a very faint pulse. Scooping her up into my arms, I dashed into the bathroom with her. I flipped on the shower and dumped her into the bathtub.
“Wake up, Trish!” I slapped her face and hoped that the water would bring her around.
I felt for her pulse again. This time I didn’t feel anything.
I jerked her out of the shower and laid her on the floor. I didn’t know much about CPR, but I did what I could. Tears streamed down my face.
“Oh my God, oh my God.” I kept whispering.
I pulled her up in my arms and held her to me. Her head lolled back. I put her chest to mine trying to feel her heart beat.
Nothing.
I waited for several minutes.
Nothing.
“Trish, please, wake up. Trish, I love you.” I whispered with my lips brushing her ear. Her skin was getting cooler.
She was gone.
The gold cross she wore around her neck was glinting in the light. I gently removed it and slipped it into my pocket.
Numbly, I laid her down gently on the bed. I cleaned her face off with a cloth. I dressed her in her nicest clothes. Kissing her for the last time, I backed away from her body.
She didn’t even look like Trish anymore. She just looked like a doll lying there. Suddenly, I felt sick. I made it to the bathroom before I vomited.
Oh God, how could this happen?
I couldn’t think straight. What to do? I couldn’t call the cops I had drugs all over the place. I grabbed the rest of the heroin that was left. The balloon felt oddly fuller than it should’ve been if she’d done another dose. Brushing that aside, I grabbed all the syringes and threw them into my bag.
Casting one more glance at her, I rubbed the tears from my face as I raced out the door. Once I was safely down the street, I called 911.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“I’d like to report a girl OD’d at 88 Sullivan Street. Apartment 5.”
“How do you know she OD’d?”
“Because I was there with her.”
“What did she take?”
I sighed leaning against the pay phone booth.
“I don’t know everything she took. Today alone she did some smack, a couple of Xanax, a bump of coke.”
“Okay. We’re sending someone now. Is she breathing?”
“No, lady, she’s fucking dead.” Tears began coursing down my face.
“So she’s not breathing? How long has she not been breathing?”
I slammed my fist against the phone booth.
“Fuck, I don’t know! I passed out too and when I woke up she wasn’t breathing. I managed to get a pulse, but then it was gone. She’s been dead at least thirty minutes I guess.”
“Okay, okay. Stay on the line with me. What’s her name?”
“Trish. Actually, Trisha Duvall is her full name.”
“How old is Trish?”
&nbs
p; “She’s seventeen, no, she just turned eighteen last month.”
“Where are Trish’s parents?”
“She’s a runaway. She hasn’t been in contact with them for years. I don’t know much about them.”
“What’s your name, Sir?”
“It’s not Sir. I’m barely eighteen years old. It’s….Danny.”
“Okay, Danny, you should see the ambulance now.”
I looked down the street. Sure enough, I heard the sirens screaming and soon the familiar white vehicle pull up. I watched them get the stretcher out.
“I’m hanging up now. I see them.”
“Danny, wait. Don’t you want to know if she’s going to be revived?”
I laughed bitterly.
“Lady, she’s GONE! I know she’s gone. She hasn’t been breathing for over a half an hour. I’m pretty sure that means she’s dead.” With that, I slammed the phone down.
Biting my lip, I stayed in the phone booth with my face pressed to the glass watching to see them bring her down.
Several moments later, they brought her down on the stretcher with a sheet pulled over her face.
“Goodbye, Trish.” Great sobs wrecked my body. She’d been my girlfriend and my best friend. How could I ever survive out here without her?
The days and nights that followed were awful. I couldn’t return to the apartment I shared with Trish. I was truly alone out there on the streets. I fixed up several times a day just to alleviate the dope sickness not to get high.
Lying on the bed in a cheap motel room, I stared at the ceiling. Why had Trish OD’d, but not me? Hell, I was so skinny I probably didn’t outweigh her by much. Why hadn’t God allowed me to die too?
Feeling the familiar pain of dope sickness start to overtake me, I decided to find my friend, Harry and see what he had for me.
Walking down the street to the local bar, I saw Harry and his guys standing around.
“Hey, man, I heard about Trish. I’m sorry.” Harry threw an arm around me. He smelled of imitation Polo cologne.
I simply nodded.
“She was hot. Shame she’s gone.” One of his cronies looked at me.
I glared at him.
“So, what can I do for you, Ayden?” Harry rubbed his hands together.
I shrugged.
“Same old shit, I guess.”
“You want a balloon, right? Sorry, man, I’m all out.”
“What?”
Harry slapped his hands in the air.
“I had some earlier, but sold out in less than an hour. The only guy I know who’s got some is Tico.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know if I could stomach being around him again.
“I’d rather not. The last time I was with Tico was with Trish.”
One of Harry’s cronies jabbed him whispering something. Harry’s eyes bulged.
“Oh, shit, man.”
“What?” I bounced back and forth on my feet. I was starting to get jittery.
“Didn’t you hear? Tico’s shit was almost pure last time. It was cut too high.”
“What are you saying?” In my dope sick haze, I couldn’t comprehend his words.
“Was the last time Trish got high was on Tico’s shit?”
I nodded.
Harry’s face went pale. He bit his lip.
“Usually, Tico cuts his shit with aspirin or even plaster. Word got around on the street his dope was weak, so he started trying to cut it higher. The last batch he had he cut too high.”
I blinked several times.
“It was more pure than it should’ve been. Too fucking powerful.”
Then, I realized what he was saying.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. My hands started trembling uncontrollably. I backed away.
“Hey, man, are you going to be okay?” Harry started off after me.
“No, I’m not.” I ran out of the bar and down the street. I kept running and running for several blocks until I collapsed on the sidewalk.
Looking up, I saw all the neon signs blinking overhead. I was Tico’s territory now. The Mexican gangs ran this block.
Still, I wasn’t afraid. I just didn’t care. To me, Tico was responsible for Trish’s death.
And I was going to make him pay.
Ash sat with his mouth hanging open. He hadn’t moved from his seat in over an hour.
“Ayden, I’m so sorry. I just….can’t comprehend.”
I nodded. I had anticipated his reaction. The world I’d grown up in was so far removed from the one he knew.
“I’m not finished yet, Ash.”
His face paled as he reached for his Macallan.
“My God, Ayden.”
I rubbed my face and adjusted myself in the chair.
“Not much longer, Ash.”
Several months went by. I had concocted a plan to get revenge for Trish’s death. For days I’d been fighting dope sickness to ensure I was stone cold sober for it. I had a .45 stuffed down the back of my jeans. I’d been watching Tico’s guys for weeks now.
As soon as their supply came in from Mexico, I was going to steal it. I’d contemplated killing Tico, but decided against it. Stealing his supply would hurt him a lot longer than a simple gunshot would. I wanted him to suffer.
Pulling my car around to the back lot of the warehouse where their supply came in, I watched. At precisely 2 AM, a long black van would arrive. Then two guys would hop out as one guy would open the warehouse doors. The two guys would drop off the dope in heavy plastic wrapped bricks and the one guy would take it into the warehouse. Later, another guy would show up to retrieve it. The lone guy would take the dope to Tico himself.
So that’s the guy I was targeting.
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you, Ayden?” Ash sat back horrified.
I shook my head.
“No. Just listen.”
“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat! Just tell me.”
Well, to make a long story short, I plowed into the one guy’s car with my own. Unfortunately, I had miscalculated the fact that he had a partner with him that time. I demanded the dope at gunpoint and they tossed it at me.
As I drove off, they shot at my car blasting out the rear windshield. I heard them scream my name.
So they knew who stole their dope meaning that Tico would be coming for me.
I drove back to the motel. I knew I didn’t have long before they eventually tracked me down.
The thing was, I didn’t even care about the dope. I stood laughing as I imagined the rage Tico must be feeling knowing his precious supply was stolen. Hauling the bricks into the bathroom, I ripped open each brick one by one and dumped them into the toilet.
“This is for you, Trish.” I said as I flushed the white powder away.
I kept one portion of the dope for myself.
Sinking down onto the bed, I finally allowed all the grief I had over Trish to overcome me. Great sobs racked my body. Inside me, a dam had burst giving way to a huge chasm of sadness, hate, anger, and despair. All the feelings I’d had all these years beckoned to me through that black hole. I wanted nothing more than to jump in headfirst and just let it take me.
Knowing how potent Tico’s smack was, I filled my needle up with a double shot. I laid back on the bed after putting on a song Trish had always liked.
The familiar sound of Coma White by Marilyn Manson filled the room. I cranked the volume up all the way. I held Trish’s cross to my chest as I tied my arm off.
There’s something cold and blank,
Behind her smile,
She’s standing on an overpass,
In a miracle mile…..
As the vein popped out, I undid the tourniquet. The needle pierced my skin and I pushed down on the plunger.
“Trish, I love you.” I whispered.
I felt the junk hit me hard. It felt like fire burning through my veins. I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away.
As the song wound down, I could feel my heart beat slowing.<
br />
Slower….then slower….even slower…..
My life draining away…all the pain I’d felt for the entire eighteen years I’d been alive…just washing away like water down a drain…..I felt so good.
Now that I was dead.
A few moments later, the music faded away. My eyelids fluttered open. I expected to see my mother for some reason.
But it was Trish standing over me.
“Ayden, you have to go back. It’s not your time.” Her voice floated to my ears. I could hear her clearly, but I could only see the shape of her body not her face.
“Trish, I want to be with you. I love you.”
Her voice echoed within me.
“Go back, Ayden. There’s a special plan for you.”
“No, Trish.” I whispered holding out my hand to her. I wanted to feel her again.
Her fingertips brushed my cheek, but before I could grab her she was gone.
Suddenly, the music was blaring in the room. The lyrics of ‘Last Resort’ were pounding throughout the room.
“Trish!” I screamed sitting up in the bed. Looking all around, I saw I was still in the motel. A needle was lying next to me. Where was Trish? Had I been dreaming? Why didn’t I die?
Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door.
“Motherfucker, we know you’re in there!” I recognized the heavy Spanish accent of Tico.
Oh shit! I grabbed my stuff and raced out the back. Running down the street, all I could think of was getting back to my mother’s house.
I had to get out of this area.
Most importantly, I had to live.
There was a special plan for me.
Trish had said so.
Ash whistled loudly.
“Fuck, Ayden, that’s….wow.” He stood up and began pacing back and forth.
“You feel me a bit more now, Ash?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry for what you went through. My God, a suicide attempt? How did you ever get away from those dealers?”
I laughed picking up my e cig and taking a long drag.
“Well, my brother, that is another story. It’s the reason that I found out who my dad really was.”
A few nights later, I made it back to my mother’s house. As usual, she wasn’t home. Easily, I slipped in through the back door. Making my way up into the attic, I began searching through the box labeled Ayden.
Wicked Redemption (Dark Book 2) Page 16