“Kitty!”
She doesn’t answer as I spot a pill bottle on the floor next to her jeans. Crouching down, I pick it up and look at the label, my stomach dropping at what I read. These aren’t her pills, she’s been scoring.
No. No, no, no.
I would have noticed. I would have noticed.
How did I not see this?
I scrub my hands down my face, trying to make sense of this and then turning back to the bathroom door. She’s in there with a bottle of pills that I’m guessing she’s just scored.
“Kitty! Come out of there!”
Fumbling and the sound of the toilet seat being shut answers me and I move closer.
“I can’t!” she shouts back, her voice shaky.
I desperately want to scream and shout and break the door down but I know that isn’t how I’m going to get a response. I need a plan, something to get her out of there without making her panic.
This wasn’t meant to happen. This wasn’t meant to happen!
He was never meant to find out, I didn’t want him to see me like this, the shell of a person that I’ve become. I didn’t want him knowing this version of me, the one who will do anything for those small round pills, the one who drops everything just to go and get more of them and the one who can’t make it four hours without needing them.
My eyes flick down to the bottle and I tell myself that it’s not too bad, they’re only pills. I mean, how much harm can they do? Doctors wouldn’t prescribe them if they caused harm, right?
That makes it okay to take them. Medical professionals say it’s okay, so it must be.
I pop the lid and pour three into my hand. My thoughts justifying my actions. Just this one last time, then I’ll stop. I can stop this time, I know I can.
Or maybe I can do what I did with Evan, I can say I’ll stop and still take them. I’ll just have to be more careful, get a stock of pills so that I don’t run out again. Keep better track of what I’m taking. I could slowly wean myself off. I can do it that way.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll wean myself off.
“Kitty, baby.” Charlie’s knuckles rap on the door. “Please come out.”
“One second,” I croak, my voice hoarse from the lump forming in my throat.
“Don’t take them,” he chokes out.
“I…” I stare at the door, my eyes blinking rapidly, tears slipping from them and streaking tracks down my face.
I lift my arm and wipe them away furiously. Don’t listen to him, just take them, you’ll feel better when you do.
“Please, baby.” His voice is so close but feels so far away at the same time.
My hands shake and the bottle rattles in my hand as I stare at it. What do I do? What do I do!
“Take them,” that voice whispers in my head, the same voice that tells me I need them.
“I have to,” I whisper, thinking that he hasn’t heard me, but he does because I can hear his huff of breath from through the door.
“You don’t have to, baby. You just think you do.”
“No!” I shout, standing up and clenching my hands into fists as I stare angrily at the door. “You don’t understand!”
“Make me understand,” he growls back, slamming what sounds like the palm of his hand on the door.
I rush toward the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, my heart racing so fast at how angry I am.
“You don’t understand!” I point, stepping forward and jabbing his chest.
“Tell me what I don’t understand,” he spits, grabbing my wrists and squeezing just enough to hurt. “How long?”
“How long, what?”
“Have you been taking them!” he roars and I wince at the loudness of his voice and try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. “Tell me how long you’ve been taking them.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, moving my eyes from him and looking anywhere but his eyes.
“You do,” he says, dropping his voice low. “Since you were shot?”
I nod in reply, my mouth not able to form an answer.
He blows out a breath and it fans across my face as he lets go of mine wrists and steps back. “You have to stop,” he tells me, holding his head in his hands.
“I know,” I reply, shuffling my feet on the floor. “I will, just after these.”
I hold up the bottle and try to smile but the look of horror on his face tells me that he doesn’t agree. I see the change in his muscles, the way they tense and I know that any second he’s going to pounce for the pills, his slight flick of his eyes to the bottle tells me that he’ll go for it, so I make a mad dash for the bathroom again, dumping some more pills into my hand and shoving them into my mouth just as he reaches me and takes the bottle from my hand.
I swallow the pills dry, wincing at how they taste and the feel of them as they go down my throat.
“Fuck!” he shouts, slamming his fist into the wall and spinning to face me. “What are you doing?”
“I need them,” I choke out.
His face collapses the longer he stares at me and he stumbles backward, his back hitting the wall before he slides down to the floor, bringing his knees up and resting his elbows on them.
“I can’t lose you too.”
“What?” I ask, not knowing whether I should step closer or stay exactly where I am.
“I lost Emmy. I can’t lose you too.”
His eyes meet mine and the sadness and heartbreak shining through them almost knocks me on my ass. My feet move of their own accord, the lump in my throat making a sob bubble up and break through.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, dropping to my knees and shuffling into the space between his legs.
I frame his face with my hands, swiping the tears away that run down his cheeks, the sight of him crying is almost enough to break me in two.
“I’m so sorry.” I kiss him softly and pull away, looking him dead in the eyes. “I’ll stop. I promise, I’ll stop.”
He pulls me closer, mumbling incoherently as he presses his face into my neck. His tears soak his t-shirt that I’m wearing and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.
He pulls back slightly, lifting up off the floor and holding his hand out to me. He doesn’t say another word as he leads us back through to the bedroom and onto the bed, wrapping me in the safety of his arms.
I watch her sleep for a couple of hours, trailing my thumb over her cheeks and down her neck. I can’t believe I didn’t see what she was doing to herself.
All this time and no one noticed, at least I don’t think anyone noticed. My jaw clenches at the possibility of someone knowing and not doing anything about it. If someone knew what she was doing to herself then I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my cool.
I move my arm from under her at the sound of the knock on the front door. I messaged Ty earlier, telling him that he needed to come straight over, that Kitty is in trouble.
It’s not that I don’t believe Kitty when she says she’ll stop, but I know that addicts will say anything to placate someone so that they can get their next fix.
I turn when I get to the bedroom door, checking that she’s still fast asleep before closing it behind me gently as to not wake her.
“Hey,” I say, my voice sounding tired to my own ears as I open the front door.
Ty nods and walks in, Luke and Evan following behind. I should have known they’d be coming too.
“What’s happened?” Ty asks, pacing the floor in the living room as Evan and Luke sit down.
“Did you know?” I ask, my hands balling into fists and my stance widening. If he knew—
“Know what? Fuck’s sake, Charlie. Will you just tell us what the hell is going on.”
I hold my hand up to him as his voice gets louder and I take a step back, tilting my head to the hallway and checking that Kitty isn’t moving.
“These,” I say, holding up the bottle of pills.
“Fuck,” Evan spits, causing us all to look at him.
“She said she’d quit,” he says, his face as white as a sheet.
“You knew?”
“I caught her a few weeks back, she said she’d quit. I told her that if I thought she was still taking them that I’d tell Ty, but since you started seeing each other properly, she’s been better, I thought she’d stopped.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Evan. Addicts can’t just stop like that,” I say, clicking my fingers. “She needs help, you should have seen her, she’s… she’s…”
“How the hell did none of us notice?” Luke asks, standing up, his eyes piercing mine.
“You’re forgetting,” Ty announces, standing in the middle of the room. “This is Kitty we’re talking about. She’s good at hiding things, really good and that’s exactly why she’s so goddamn good at her job.”
“We need to get her help.”
“On it,” Evans says, standing up from the sofa. “I’ll get my laptop from the truck.”
I stop him with my hand to his chest as he walks past me, my eyes burning with fire and my jaw clenched.
“You’re lucky I’m not breaking your face right now.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. “The only reason I’m not is because you believed in my woman.”
I let him go and turn back to Ty as Evan walks out the front door.
“What’s the plan?” he asks, sitting down on the seat that Evan just got up from.
I drop down into the chair and scrub my hands down my face.
“She needs rehab, but I know that isn’t going to go over well, hence why you’re here.”
Evan’s footsteps come back inside and he sits down on the floor, opening up his laptop and typing away.
“Find a rehab,” Ty tells Evan. “One where she can still train, training is a way for her to escape and she’ll need to escape all of the shit they’re gonna have her do.”
“On it,” Evan replies, typing away. “It needs a garden too.”
“You know who her dealer is?” Luke asks, his voice practically a growl.
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t ask.”
“We need to find out,” he tells Ty.
“No, you don’t. What we need to do is get Kitty better,” Ty tells him, his jaw clenched.
“The hell with that!” Luke shouts.
“Keep it fucking down,” I growl. “She’s sleeping.”
His eyes narrow at me and his lips move into a grim line. He lifts his arms, the colorful tattoos catching the morning light that shines through the window. I don’t give a shit if he isn’t happy about any of this.
“Found one, two states over,” Evan announces, standing up.
“Let me look,” I say, holding my hand out for the laptop.
Evan hands it to me as Ty pulls out his cell, telling us that he’s calling Kay to pack Kitty a bag and to bring it over after she’s taken Eli to school.
I scroll down the website and pull my cell out of my sweatpants pocket, typing the number in and listening to the sound of the tone over the line.
I stand up when someone answers and walk into the kitchen, explaining the situation to the person who answers. She tells me she’ll talk to the doctor onsite and call me back within the hour and to make travel arrangements as there’s an opening right now.
I walk back into the living room, telling Evan, “Book two flights.” Handing him my credit card.
“Charlie?” Kitty calls and my stomach drops. “What’s going on?”
“Sit down, Kitty Kat.”
She shakes her head no and wraps her arms around her stomach, her eyes flicking between us all. “What did you do?” she seethes.
“You need help,” I tell her.
Her face drops and tears stream down her cheeks, I take a step toward her but she shakes her head and spins around, running back into the bedroom, the slamming of the door vibrating throughout the house.
I sit on the bed for what feels like hours, not willing to go back out there and face them all. I can’t believe that Charlie called them here and did this to me. I trusted him, I trusted them all, and now they’re doing this to me. I thought they were my friends, my family.
My jaw clenches and my hands ball into fists as I get angrier and angrier at all of them. I heard them talking about rehab, sending me away so they don’t have to deal with me.
I can hear them all murmuring right now, trying not to be heard as they sit around like a bunch of old ladies gossiping. I won’t let them do this to me, I won’t be a problem that they can just send away. No, I’ll walk away, I’ll walk away from them all.
I jump off the bed, pushing my legs through the first pair of jeans that I can find and pulling on a t-shirt; I don’t bother to look at myself, knowing that it’ll be my undoing. Instead, I pack up the few things that I have here and put my glasses on, not having the patience to put my contacts in before I pull open the bedroom door.
All conversation stops when they hear my footsteps and I stop briefly, looking into the living room and meeting all of their eyes.
“Kitty?” Charlie asks, moving a couple of steps forward, his eyes moving down to my bag. “What are you doing?”
I flick my eyes away from him and to Ty, not willing to talk to Charlie because he betrayed me.
“I’m going,” I tell them, nodding my head briefly like I’m confirming it not only to them but to myself too.
Luke stands, coming shoulder to shoulder with Charlie as I take a step back. “And where would you be going?”
My heart rate spikes at the sound of his voice, the sorrow evident. I hate the look of pity in his ice blue eyes, and that’s exactly what I didn’t want, their pity.
“I’m going away from here,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
I hold on tight to the strap of the bag, my palms sweating. I need to get out of here, I need to disappear. I need some pills.
“No.” I jump at the voice, looking up into Charlie’s eyes.
“W-what?”
“I said, no.” He steps forward and I step back, him matching every one of my steps until my back is hitting the wall. “You’re not going anywhere but on that fucking plane and to that rehab.”
My eyes widen and my breaths become pants at the thought of being in a rehab, he can’t make me go, none of them can. They just want me out of the way so they don’t have to deal with me. I’m not like the people that are there, I’m not an addict like them.
“I’m not going to rehab,” I tell him, surprised how my voice comes out strong and not shaky. My back straightens and I tilt my head back. “I’m not a fucking addict so I don’t need to go.”
He watches me for several seconds before he leans forward, resting his forearm against the wall above my head.
“Really? So if I tell you that I have the pills you dropped on the floor in the kitchen earlier, how would that make you feel?”
My eyes flick between each of his, looking for the lie he’s telling, but when his hand comes up between us and he holds his palm out, I see them, the sweet round pills.
My fingers itch to take them from him, to have them slide down my throat and I know he can see it, he can feel it in the way my body has stiffened.
“Please, Kitty Kat, please go and get better. It kills me to see you like this, I… I…”
I tear my eyes away from his palm and look back up to his face. My breath catches in my throat at the look he’s giving me, utter devastation and heartbreak. I can’t stand to see that look in his eyes, not when it’s directed at me, about me.
“I’m not an—”
“You are,” he whispers, moving his arm from above me and cupping the side of my face. “You are, baby, and you need to get better, you need help.”
I swallow against the dryness in my throat and I can’t help but feel like I’ve let him down. I was meant to be this strong, independent woman, someone who didn’t need anyone to come to her rescue. But the reality is, I’m not. I used to be, but right now, I’m not that person; the one that tried so hard to be Kitt
y and not Katherine.
The door opening gains my attention and I turn away from Charlie, seeing Kay standing in the doorway with a sad smile on her face and a bag in her hand.
“Kitty,” she whispers, dropping the bag on the floor and walking to me with her arms open wide.
I duck under Charlie’s arm and walk straight to her, wrapping my arms around her waist as she holds me tight, whispering that it will all be okay, that she’s here and they’re all going to help me get better.
A sob bubbles up my throat and I can’t stop it coming out of my mouth as the tears run down my face like a waterfall.
I don’t want to be this person anymore, I don’t want to be broken. I want to be normal again. My thoughts concentrated on normal things like what I’m going to eat for dinner or what I want to binge watch next on Netflix instead of those pills that are sitting in the palm of Charlie’s hand.
“I don’t want to go,” I tell her, pulling back and wiping the traitorous tears off my face. “I’m not like the people in there, Kay. I can do this on my own, I swear I can.”
“Sweetie...” She smiles, bringing her hand up to my face. “You can’t do it on your own, you need help. But I think you already know that.”
I heave out a breath, looking down at my feet as she hooks her arm through mine and walks us to the kitchen.
“I don’t want to leave,” I say, my voice sounding pathetic.
“Do you want to be this person?” Kay asks, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. “Have you looked at yourself lately? Because I have to say, Kitty, you look like poop.”
I snort at her and lean back, shaking my head at her choice of words.
I look up into her eyes. “I’m scared.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she says, her voice cracking as she moves forward and pulls me into her arms. “We’ll help you get better, all you need to do is get on that plane. Just take it one step at a time.”
I nod against her shoulder, repeating it over and over in my head.
One step at a time.
“Do you have a pen and some paper?” I ask when I pull back, wiping my face. This is the time, the time when I need him, Dean.
The Distance Between Us (Mac Security Series Book 3) Page 22