Addicted to an Addict

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Addicted to an Addict Page 28

by Honey


  “Yeah, I hear you, Deacon.” Josiah chuckled but only for a moment because his cell phone rang. He swiped the answer icon and pressed it to his ear. “This is Josiah Bishop.”

  “Hey, son, it’s your father-in-law.”

  “Major, how are you, sir?”

  “Roxie and I are well. How are you, son? Have you heard from that daughter of mine yet?”

  Sighing deeply, Josiah mumbled, “No, sir, I haven’t. I’ve thought about hiring a private investigator to track her down, but I have no clues to give anyone even to begin a search. I’ll just continue to pray that Mink is safe and that she’ll soon come to her senses and call me.”

  “And when she does call you, what do you plan to do, Josiah? Are you going to race halfway across the country, bring her home, and spend thousands of more dollars on another drug treatment facility?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea what I’ll do. What would you do if you were in my shoes, sir?”

  “I would keep her away from my daughters and administer tough love. Mink needs to hit rock bottom without a lifeline to rescue her. For once, Josiah, allow her to help herself. If my daughter really wants to be free of her heroin addiction, she’ll seek the treatment she needs without any assistance from you or anyone else.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Major.”

  “You do that. It’s the best thing you could ever do for Mink.”

  Josiah nodded in agreement because he was too overwhelmed by emotions to say anything. He sniffed and fought back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He knew his father-in-law’s advice was on point, but it was going to be hard to turn his back on Mink completely. Regardless of all the terrible things she had done because of her addiction, he still loved her very much, and he wanted her to get clean so she could return home to him and their girls.

  “Kiss my beautiful granddaughters for me and tell them their nana and papa love them very much. I’m praying for you and those sweet, beautiful girls.”

  “We appreciate your prayers.”

  “And just in case I can’t get through to you Tuesday night, congratulations on your reelection, Mr. Mayor.”

  The thought of victory brought a smile to Josiah’s face although election night wouldn’t be quite the same without Mink there to celebrate with him and the girls. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Major. It means a lot to me. Thank you for calling. We’ll talk again soon.”

  “I want to talk to my little princesses next time.”

  “I’ll be sure to make that happen, sir.”

  “Bye, Josiah.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Norm M. laughed. “Yes, Evan, we’ll swim with the dolphins when we go to Catalina Island for your birthday.”

  Mink stopped outside the slightly cracked bedroom door and peeped inside. Norm M. was sitting on the bed, FaceTiming his son on his iPad. Hearing the child’s excited voice caused a vision of Gem and Treasure to float through her mind. But it quickly disappeared when her empty stomach tumbled and growled like it was about to burst. Then her body trembled when a sudden chill swept all around her. Seconds later, she experienced a hot flash. The old familiar withdrawal symptoms were wreaking havoc on her body. She had spent every dime in her purse on heroin when Brett took her to his friend, Oscar’s, house to score a fix. Now, her high was fizzling out, and she was irritable as hell.

  After refusing to eat any of the Jamaican food they’d picked up at a restaurant in Queens, Mink had made love to a syringe containing an ounce of heroin at the kitchen table in front of Brett, Oscar, and a white guy whose name she couldn’t remember. She’d reinforced her high with a few quick shots of Cîroc afterward before wobbling into the living room and collapsing on the sofa. And she’d remained there, enjoying her cloud nine experience even as the nameless white dude removed her tights and panties and fucked her while Brett and Oscar watched.

  Mink wrapped both arms around her waist to ward off the icy sensation attacking her body. Her mouth was desert dry, and she was weak from hunger. Depression was weighing her way down because Norm M. wanted her out of his apartment, and she had nowhere to go. That’s why she had come to his bedroom. She was prepared to beg him for forgiveness and an extension on her visit. And if she literally had to kiss his ass, she wasn’t above that either.

  Mink tapped lightly on the cracked door and poked her head inside the room when Norm M. ended his video call. “Can I come in?”

  “What do you want, Mink?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t go to the meeting this evening, but I got caught up at a treat—”

  “Save it, Mink. I don’t believe a damn thing you say. The truth of the matter is, I don’t care where you were, who you were with, or what you were doing. Just pack your things tomorrow and leave. Go home to your husband and children, my dear. Check in at a rehab center and work the program.”

  Mink was speechless; she felt defeated, realizing there was nothing she could say to turn her situation around. Her addiction had caused her to burn yet another bridge and lose another friend.

  Norm M. stood from the bed, walked to the other side of the bedroom, and removed a framed picture of a boat at sea from the wall. Surprisingly, the picture had been hiding a safe. After entering a code on the keypad, the small metal door opened. Mink’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when she saw a few stacks of money and a crystal jewelry box. There were some folders stuffed with documents inside as well. Norm M. removed some money from the safe. Mink quickly lowered her head as if she hadn’t seen anything when he turned around to face her.

  “This should cover your cab fare to the bus station and a ticket to Atlanta.” He handed Mink the money. “The extra is for food and incidentals along the way.”

  “Thank you,” Mink whispered as she accepted the money.

  “You’re welcome. I’m going to bed now. I have a very busy day tomorrow. Good night.”

  Realizing she had been dismissed, Mink exited the room without a word.

  * * *

  Mink hadn’t slept one hot second last night because she was so worried and frustrated over her current situation. Also, her withdrawal symptoms had been more severe than ever before because she hadn’t used heroin for several weeks. The initial high after a period of abstinence was insane, but the meltdown was like plummeting slowly into the pit of hell. When she finally crashed all the way down the previous night, she was nauseated, agitated, and extremely depressed. Worst of all, she was wide awake although she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Mink was craving a taste of that brown sugar, and she couldn’t shake it.

  So, as soon as Norm M. left for work this morning, she called Brett and begged him to bring her another fix, which she planned to pay for with her bus ticket money. She would figure out where she was going to live and how she would eat and support her habit later. At the moment, Mink’s only concern was getting high.

  She dragged her body into the living room, picked up the telephone from the coffee table, and pressed the star key and the number 3 on the speed dial. It was the direct line to the concierge’s desk. Mink’s body uncontrollably shook as she held the receiver to her ear and waited for someone to answer her call.

  “Good morning. This is Ginger. How may I help you?”

  “Um, this is Mink Bishop. I’m visiting with Mr. Murchison on the twelfth floor for a few days.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your name is on his visitation list. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “I . . . um . . . ordered some breakfast from a restaurant. The deliveryman should arrive soon, so please let him upstairs.”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Bishop. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  * * *

  The constant switch between hot flashes and chills with nausea on top was taking its toll on Mink. The taste and smell of the drug she worshipped had filled her imagination, making her salivate like a rabid dog. She had a hard time standing still as she watched
the unidentified white guy from the day before counting the money she had given him.

  He flipped through the bills one final time before he looked up at Mink and smiled. He gave Brett a nod. “It’s all here. Give her the shit so we can get the hell out of here.”

  Brett dropped the small brown paper bag on the coffee table, and Mink snatched it up right away with shaky hands. While she tied the elastic band around her arm and prepared to fill her veins with dope, Brett started walking around Norm M.’s apartment, touching the expensive furniture and décor.

  “Damn! That bitch wasn’t lying. This cracker is ballin’!”

  “Let’s go, Brett. I got moves to make,” the white dude grumbled.

  “Chill, man. I’m just looking around.” Brett headed down the hall toward the back of the apartment.

  “Hey, man, I’m out!” Mr. Anonymous yelled. “I didn’t come here for this shit.”

  Through low eyes, Mink watched Brett’s friend walk out the door, slamming it behind him. Her fresh high caused her to giggle like a fool and fall sideways on the sofa. The warm and fuzzy sensation coursing through her body made her feel like she was soaring weightlessly through the air. She felt no pain, but she heard Brett running from room to room, rambling. Mink wondered what the hell he was doing, but at the same time, she really didn’t give a damn. Her mind and body were in a zone, unable to connect with the real world around her. The constant craving that ruled her existence had been satisfied, even though it was only temporary. But it was the best feeling in the world while it lasted.

  “Yo, this cracker’s got paper,” Brett said, returning to the living room carrying a laptop, a pair of sterling silver candleholders, and two designer watches.

  Mink sat up, shaking her head lazily as drool slid down her chin. “W-what . . . What are you doing? That’s Norm M.’s stuff. Go . . . Go put it back.”

  “Fuck you, girl. That motherfucker won’t even miss this shit. He’s got money to replace it anyway.” He stuffed the watches in his pocket and walked toward an antique display case.

  The front door opened all of a sudden, and Norm M. walked into his apartment and froze when he saw Brett. “What the hell is going on here? Mink, who is this man?”

  “Norm M., you . . . You’re home sooo early,” she whined as her head bobbled up and down.

  “What are you doing with my property, you hoodlum?”

  “Just relax, man,” Brett said in a low and eerie voice. “Mink invited me here.”

  “This is not Mink’s apartment, and those aren’t her things! I’m calling the police.”

  Brett stepped in front of Norm M., blocking him when he tried to reach for the phone. “You don’t wanna do that, old man.”

  Norm M. attempted to push past Brett, but he wasn’t strong enough. Brett dropped all of the items in his hands on the floor, except one of the candleholders. He raised it high in the air and brought it down forcefully against the side of Norm M.’s head, causing him to slump to the floor.

  “Uuuuuugh!”

  Mink opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came forth. She watched in horror as Brett kneeled over Norm M., bludgeoning his head repeatedly, sending blood and inner flesh splattering all over the sofa, coffee table, and carpet. Warm, red liquid splattered on Mink and Brett too as the foul odor of human membrane filled the air. The crunching sound of his skull shattering nearly sent Mink into cardiac arrest. The whole scene unfolding before her eyes was gruesome. She covered her mouth with bloodstained hands when Brett finally stopped bashing Norm M.’s head.

  The stench of death crept slowly into the room with a choking effect. Even though she was as high as the sun in the sky, Mink knew Norm M. was dead beyond a shadow of a doubt. She couldn’t speak or moan or even cry silent tears. She was numb and in shock. The only thing Mink could do was rock back and forth with her arms wrapped tightly around her shivering body. Brett grabbed her by the wrist and almost pulled her off the sofa. Their faces were so close together that she could smell his rotten breath.

  “We gotta get rid of these bloody clothes and get the fuck outta here. But we can’t walk out at the same time, though. You leave first and walk the few blocks down the street to that little café on the corner. I’ll meet you there in a little while. My friend, Kuwasi, will come and scoop us up. I’ll wear some of his clothes outta here.” Brett pointed to a lifeless Norm M. lying flat on his face on the carpet in a pool of his own blood. “Go change your clothes.” He stood up and took off his jacket.

  Mink just sat there staring at Norm M., shaking her head in disbelief. Finally, tears began to fall from her eyes and streamed down her face. “He’s dead? Is my friend dead? He didn’t deserve to die. Why did you have to kill Norm M.?”

  “Look, bitch, that old white dude was about to call the police on me, so I did what I had to do to stop him. Now, stop wasting time and let’s go.”

  Mink wiped her eyes, smearing blood and mucus across her face. Then she leaned over and removed Norm M.’s wallet from his back pocket. The heinous murder that had just been committed fled her brain space when she saw several big bills of cash. Mink snatched the money out in a hurry and stuffed it in her bra before she let the wallet drop to the carpet.

  Chapter Fifty

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you had turned in early.”

  Josiah aimed the remote control at the TV and turned it off. He offered Gypsie a faint smile. “I did, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I was reading, but I couldn’t concentrate. I guess I’m overly excited about the election. We’ve only got two more days.”

  Josiah held up two fingers. “Just two more days. Are you excited or worried? Tell me the truth, Gypsie.”

  “I’m not worried at all because I know you’re going to win. What I’m feeling right now is excitement.” Gypsie walked farther into the den and sat down in the recliner across from the sofa where Josiah sat. “Are you nervous, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Maybe. If I am, does that make me a punk?”

  “I would never describe you as a punk. You’re one of the bravest men I know. In spite of everything going on in your personal life, you keep right on moving. You work hard for the citizens of Atlanta, you maintain a much-needed voice in your law firm, and you’re the world’s greatest father, hands down. I think you’re quite a special guy, Josiah Jacob Bishop.”

  “You’re a special woman. Look at the way you take care of Gem and Treasure while you balance managing me at work. And you’re so selfless. I wouldn’t be able to do all the things I do if it weren’t for you. My debt to you is steep, girl. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. Just win Tuesday night and win big. Then I want you to approve a long vacation for me after you’re sworn in for your second term.”

  Gypsie smiled, and Josiah had to fight his libido to stay seated instead of crossing the room to pick her up and caveman her ass upstairs to his bedroom. He used the few moments of silence after her vacation request to regroup before he answered her.

  “You deserve some time off. How does two weeks sound?”

  “It sounds cool, but three weeks would be even better.” Gypsie stood up, maintaining her breathtaking smile. “Think about it, boss.”

  “I’ll consider it, but I don’t think I could live without you for three weeks. Hell, two will be hard enough.”

  “You’ll manage, I guarantee it. Good night.”

  “Good night, Gypsie. Sleep well.”

  Josiah watched her until she disappeared out of sight. And oh, what a sight she was. How the hell could she look so damn good in baggy sweatpants and an oversized tee? Josiah released air from his cheeks and turned the TV back on. He flipped through the channels until he saw a basketball game. The Golden State Warriors were playing the Dallas Mavericks. Josiah was a ride-or-die Atlanta Hawks fan, and he was friends with some of the players. So he really didn’t have a dog in the fight. He just wasn’t sleepy, and he still loathed the thought of sleeping alone. Josiah recli
ned comfortably on the sofa and decided to throw his support behind Stephen Curry and his crew.

  * * *

  With only two days until the election, Connor was grinding like crazy on Sunday night, organizing the poll watchers list to monitor each voting precinct in the city. He was also making sure all volunteer attorneys in the campaign knew their specific assignments in the event of any sign of voter suppression. It was quiet and still at city hall because Connor was the only member of the mayor’s staff with obsessive-compulsive disorder and was stressing over the upcoming election. No other city government employee besides him wanted to spend Sunday evening working at the office.

  As usual, Connor decided to check all of the news channels before he left for the night. He turned on the small TV on his desk and flipped to CNN first. Tired from a long and busy day, he thought his eyes were doing some tricky shit when a still shot of Mink captured on videotape appeared on the screen. Connor rubbed his eyes a few times and refocused on the image. He even increased the volume so he could better hear. And to his utter dismay, Don Lemon said the two words he didn’t want to hear—Mink Bishop.

  Josiah’s staff didn’t call Connor the drama king behind his back for nothing. He represented his title with full honor the moment he heard that Mink was a “person of interest” in connection with the grisly murder of a Hollywood movie producer found dead in his apartment in New York City. Dramatic to the highest degree, Connor grabbed two handfuls of his red hair and screamed like lightning struck him.

  “If you know the whereabouts of this woman or you have seen her, please contact the New York Police Department immediately. And if you can identify either of these men, authorities ask that you contact the NYPD at 212 . . .”

  * * *

  “Aye, slow the fuck down and relax, Connor. I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying. I’ve told you about panicking like a little-ass girl.”

 

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