My heart was pounding. This whole thing scared the shit out of me. Those two thugs with guns were almost at the car now.
I was about to floor the gas pedal and speed away, when Veronica yelled: "We gotta pick her up! We can't leave her here!" She was pointing at a girl with black hair who was standing in the driveway of the neighboring house.
"I can't stop right next door! They're gonna get us!" I yelled back. I wasn't sure who or why they were gonna get us, but I knew I didn't want to be gotten. They didn't look like happy campers.
"STOP THE CAR! WE CAN'T LEAVE HER HERE!" Veronica screamed.
So I stopped in front of the next driveway. The black-haired girl jumped in the backseat. Those two black thugs were only a few feet away from the car. They had the guns in their hands now. What the fuck was going on here?!
Some black guy climbed into my car right behind the girl with black hair.
Holy fucking fuck. We're dead, I thought.
"GO! GOOO!" Veronica screamed. We took off.
The black guy in my car apparently was not with the thugs who were chasing us. I guess he was friends with Veronica or the other girl.
"Those guys think I'm a CI," Veronica said.
"What's a CI?"
"A criminal informant. A snitch," she explained.
"Why do they think that?" I asked.
"Because there's an article in the newspaper about me being a snitch," she replied. "Last time I got arrested, I promised the cops that I'd cooperate. But then I didn't, so the cops gave the newspaper my name."
Oh, terrific! I had barely known this girl for what? Two days? And she already almost got me killed. I was totally stressed out. My heart was pounding like crazy. Veronica and the two people on my backseat were freaked out, too. They started smoking crack and passed the pipe around to each other. The whole car was filling up with smoke.
"Can you at least open a window?" I asked.
We were going to drop the black guy off somewhere. He didn't have his own crackpipe and asked if he could "borrow" Veronica's. She said no. He got more and more agitated. By the time we got to where he wanted to be dropped off, I was so stressed out, I hit a parked car while backing into the parking spot next to it. As soon as he got out of the car, we left. So I almost got killed and had a hit and run accident in one night. Thanks Veronica. Nice to meet you.
We met a few more times after that, but she was a typical drug addict, with all the typical drug addict traits. She was totally unreliable and unpredictable. If we made plans to get together, I never knew if she was actually going to show up. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't, without any explanation or apology.
I was still seeing Haley and Crystal as well, because Veronica was obviously seeing other people, too.
One morning I woke up at 8 am, because someone was knocking on my door. Nobody ever comes knocking on my door unannounced, because I live in a gated community with security and video surveillance. So people never just show up at my door. But someone was forcefully knocking on my door now.
I opened the door in my underwear. It was Veronica.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked. "You can't just show up here like that. What if I had company? What if I had another girl over? How the hell am I gonna explain who you are and why you just show up here like that?"
She started to cry: "Please don't be mad at me. I didn't know where else to go. I'm in sooo much pain. I need help. Can I please stay with you for a while?"
Veronica couldn't even stand up straight. She was hunched over in pain, holding on to the wall next to the door with one hand. I let her in. "What happened? What's wrong?" I asked. I was really worried about her. She looked terrible. He had scabs all over her face. Crack addicts like to pick their face when they smoke crack.
She put one of her arms around my neck and hobbled towards my bedroom, while using me as a crutch. "It's my leg," she said, still crying. "It's hurts sooo bad. I can't take it anymore!"
I helped her lie down in my bed. She told me she thought she had pulled a muscle, or torn a ligament, or maybe broken a bone or something. She wasn't sure how it happened, or why she was in so much pain. I ran the water in the bathtub. I figured maybe a hot bath would help her feel better.
She needed my help to use the toilet, to get undressed, and to get into the tub. Once she was in the hot water, she felt a little bit better for a little while. She told me she needed to tell me something. She had a warrant. So now this was the second time in my life I was aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive. Great. I was really moving on up in the world. She begged me not to call the cops on her, and said that she would leave if I didn't want her in my house. I felt so bad for her. She was a crying, helpless little pile of misery.
After she got out of the tub, she was in too much pain to put her clothes back on, so she got back into bed naked. She asked me to look at the back of her right leg between her butt and her knee. She asked me if it looked swollen or red. No, it looked like her other leg. I couldn't see anything unusual.
I gave her some Ibuprofen and some over-the-counter sleeping pills. I thought maybe some sleep would help her feel better. I lay down next to her, and she fell asleep in my arms again. The next morning she was still in terrible pain. I brought her breakfast in bed. She fell asleep again afterwards. Later in the day she asked me to get her drugs. I told her I wouldn't do that.
She said she couldn't take the pain without drugs and asked me to bring her to a drug dealer's house. She spent the night there. The next day she asked me to come pick her up again. This went on for a couple of days. She kept leaving to get drugs and then came back to me, because my place was now her safe haven.
This was the time when Hussy got into a big fight with Dick, and she thought that once she had nowhere else to go, I would come to her rescue and move into a house in Naples with her and her kids. But I was way too busy with Veronica, so Hussy ended up moving to Ocala.
Veronica always asked me to pick here up at a different place, because she bounced around from one cheap motel to the next. One day she asked me to come get her at the Gulfview Motel. When I got there, she was staying in a room with several other hookers. She told me that she had changed her mind and that she wanted to stay there, but she wanted to have sex with me before I leave.
She couldn't even walk or move her leg without being in terrible pain. I told her I really didn't want to have sex with her in that condition. She said it would be ok, as long as I was careful and didn't thrust into her too hard. I told her I would feel horribly selfish if I would cause her pain to make myself feel good at her expense.
She wouldn't take no for an answer, and asked me to pull her yoga pants off, because she was in too much pain to do it herself. So I helped her take them off. She spread her legs for me and told me with a strained smile that I should feel very special, because she was in too much pain to have sex with anyone else, but she wanted to have sex with me. Just with me, and nobody else.
While she said that, I saw that someone else's cum was slowly dripping out of her pussy. She obviously had sex with someone else right before I got there. I didn't have sex with her in a few days, since before she showed up at my door unannounced that morning at 8 am. I just felt it was wrong to take advantage of her in her condition.
But now that I saw a glob of someone else's thick white cum slowly dripping out of her pussy, and I knew that she had obviously been having sex with other people despite the pain, I figured I might as well have sex with her, too. And it's not like I was forcing myself on her. She was literally begging me to fuck her. I took my pants off and rubbed my dick with one hand until I got hard, while using my other hand to wipe the cum off her pussy lips with the sheets. But I didn't say anything about it.
Then I got on top of her and gently eased my dick inside of her. She squirmed in pain. "I can't do this," I said. I felt so guilty for even trying to have sex with her like this.
"It's ok. Don't stop. Keep fucking me," she said with her eyes closed and
pain in her voice. In some sick way, it was starting to really turn me on that she was begging me to fuck her while she was in this much pain. Every single time I thrust my dick inside of her, she was in unbearable pain. She had tears in her eyes. Her hands were clutching the sheets. Meanwhile I got hornier and hornier. I knew she wouldn't be able to handle this agony for long, and sooner or later she would tell me to get off her, so I had to make every thrust count.
I pushed myself inside her as slowly and gently as I could. I moved my dick inside of her in slow motion, from the very tip of the head to the very bottom of the shaft and back again. Every time I was balls deep inside of her, I paused for a few seconds, just concentrating on what it felt like to be inside of her, while her warm soft pussy lips were wrapped around me. I think I only had to push my dick inside of her for maybe 9 or 10 times before I came. After I finished, and I could think clearly again, I almost felt like I had just raped her.
Day after day, the pain in her leg was getting worse and worse. The next time she was at my house, she asked me to buy her a crutch. Then she called her stepdad, a doctor, and asked him what the pain could be. He told her he needed to see her, but she didn't trust him or her mother not to call the cops on her. I offered to take her to the emergency room, but she didn't want to, because she was afraid she'd get arrested.
I ended up giving her some antibiotics, just in case the pain in her leg was some sort of infection. Then she asked me to drop her off at the Value Place on Colonial, because some of her hooker friends were staying there, and she said they would give her some drugs. I didn't hear from her anymore for a few days after that.
When she finally called me again, she told me the police had been at the Value Place, to arrest the people in the room next to the one she was staying in, and when they asked her for her ID, they arrested her, too. When they saw how much pain she was in, they took her to Lee Memorial Hospital instead of jail.
I visited her in the hospital a few times. The doctors pumped her so full of painkillers, she wasn't even lucid the first time I visited her. She didn't even know I was there. Her mother Rachel was by her bedside, and we talked for a few minutes. Rachel said Veronica had been asking for me in her daze.
When I visited Veronica the next day, she was awake and I brought her pulled pork sandwiches from Burgerque on 41, and raspberry ice cream from Love Boat. She was really happy and started to cry because she was so touched that I went out of my way to visit her and bring her her favorite foods.
She told me that the doctors said she had a life-threatening MRSA infection and that if I hadn't given her the antibiotics, she'd be dead now.
She said she was done with drugs for good, and that she really liked being at my house. She asked if she could come live with me once she gets out of the hospital. I told her yes, of course. I still didn't have the balls to tell her I was in love with her, because I felt I'd look like a fool.
Veronica told me that she would delete all her phone numbers and not talk to any of her johns or dope boys or her druggie friends anymore. She said the only people she wanted to have in her phone were me, her mom, her dad, her stepdad and her grandparents. That made me feel really good.
My Dodge Durango had been stolen in New York a few weeks earlier, and I was going to go to a car auction in New York to buy a new SUV. She promised she'd be good while I was gone, and I promised to be back in time to pick her up from the hospital, so she could come live with me.
While I was in New York, her mother called me and told me that the infection was so bad, the doctors were afraid Veronica would die, unless they amputate her leg. She went through several surgeries. They were able to save her leg.
I saw on her Facebook page that she hadn't kept her word. She was still talking to a bunch of her old drug friends and had them come visit her in the hospital. I was glad I didn't tell her how I felt about her, or I really would have felt like a fool now.
After a few weeks in the hospital, she was supposed to be released on a Thurday. She asked me to return to Fort Myers and come get her. I told her I would. But before I left New York on Tuesday, I saw on her Facebook page that she was posting rap lyrics about smoking crack and that she already left the hospital, against doctor's orders.
She didn't get very far. The cops arrested her in the hospital parking lot, because she still had that warrant. They took her to jail.
I wrote her some postcards in jail. I told her I was mad at her for leaving the hospital prematurely, instead of waiting for me to come pick her up and take her home with me as we had planned.
She wrote me back and told me how sorry she was and that she hoped I would still let her come live with me once she gets out of jail. She told me how grateful she was that I took care of her when her leg was so infected.
We both knew she was going to be in jail for a while. Now I really had no reason to come back to Florida any time soon. So I told her I would stay in New York for a few more weeks.
She wrote me a bunch of letters and started calling me every day. She told me that she loved me and that when she was going to come live with me after getting out of jail, she didn't want it to be as roommates, or friends with benefits, but as boyfriend and girlfriend. She told me she wanted to be in a real relationship with me, and she didn't want me seeing any other girls besides her anymore. She said she wouldn't be able to handle living with me and then seeing me walk into the bedroom with some other girl. And she said she knew that she had no right to tell me not to see other girls while she's in jail, but it would make her really upset if I did that. She said she wanted us to be faithful to each other.
I asked her if she was sure she wanted to be my girlfriend. She had told me earlier that she had dated a few girls before she and I met. And when Kayla was in jail, she had told me that a lot of girls in jail become "gay for the stay" and start dating other inmates. I figured Veronica would do that too, if she was going to be in jail for a long time. So I felt it was better if we just stayed friends for now, and then, once she got out of jail and she came to live with me, we could be boyfriend and girlfriend. That way she could do her thing in jail, and I could do my thing outside. I was going to keep seeing Haley and Crystal, until Veronica got out.
But Veronica told me she loved me and she definitely wanted us to be faithful to each other and not see anyone else. She promised she wouldn't talk to any other guys anymore, and she would not date any girls in jail. She said: "I do like having sex with a girl every now and then, but I don't want to be in a relationship with one. Too much drama. I only want to be with you."
And that's how I ended up with my second jail girlfriend.
LCJ: FORT MYERS' BIGGEST WHOREHOUSE
“The mentality and behavior of drug addicts and alcoholics is wholly irrational until you understand that they are completely powerless over their addiction and unless they have structured help, they have no hope.”
"It is difficult to suffer the selfishness of a drug addict who will lie to you and steal from you and forgive them and offer them help. Can there be any other disease that renders its victims so unappealing?"
Russell Brand
Have you ever noticed that actresses being interviewed on late night talk shows always pretend that they have nothing but good things to say about other actors, directors and producers? They all pretend to be one big happy family. They all pretend to love each other oh so much. The reason for that is obvious: networking. If you have a lot of friends in Hollywood, or pretend to be friendly with a lot of people, chances are, you might land a role in one of your friends' next movies. If you want to get a lot of movie roles, it's not what you know, it's who you know.
Most drug addicted girls do the same thing. They not only tell a bunch of guys that they supposedly love them, hoping that one or more of the guys will bite and be a devoted slave to the girl from that point on. Drug addicted girls also tell each other all the time how much they supposedly love each other. And just like in Hollywood, the reason is networking. The more junkies you
know and call your dearly beloved friends, the higher your chances that one of them might throw you some free drugs, or introduce you to a new connection. A lot of drug addicted girls pretend to love other drug addicted girls, to get drugs. Or, while they are in jail, they do it to get sex, or some free candy from the other girl.
In Hollywood they sell dreams. Ironically, inmates in Lee County Jail (LCJ) also call it "selling dreams" when they pretend to love someone in order to manipulate them to get money, food, drugs or sex.
But while these girls pretend to love each other oh so much, they talk shit about each other behind each other's backs, because in reality they are neither lovers nor friends, but competitors. Each drug addicted hooker wants to get her hands on the guy with the big wallet. And if another hooker gets in her way, she'll defend her territory.
And no matter how much they pretend to love each other, there is no honor and no loyalty among drug addicts. Drugs turn them into selfish sociopaths. They only care about the next high, and it doesn't matter who they have to betray to get it. That's how they survive on the streets, and that's all they know when they go to jail. Drug addiction is the number one reason why females commit crimes, and LCJ is full of sociopathic drug addicted girls. It's a snake pit of fake love, lies and betrayal. And if they have no problem screwing over their real families and their real loved ones, of course they will screw over other addicts as well.
The Heroin Scene in Fort Myers Page 10