Dr. Ramsey crossed his hands on top of his desk and pursed his lips. “Maxx, are you aware that you will need to get an A on every single exam in order to pass with a D?” he asked in that condescending way of his that deserved a punch to the throat.
“Well, I am now,” I told him dryly.
“And is that okay with you? To end up on academic probation with no chance of graduating? You’ll be lucky to still have a place at Longwood after this semester,” Dr. Ramsey remarked, curling his lip in disdain.
I was up to my eyeballs in disappointment. I sure as shit didn’t need it from snot for brains with too many diplomas and no dick in his pants. I got to my feet, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I hear ya, loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Thanks for the pep talk,” I sneered, slamming out of his office without waiting for a comeback.
I left Dr. Ramsey’s office fuming. Sure, I hadn’t been as focused on school this past semester as I should have been. The club was taking up a lot of my time.
My failing grades had absolutely nothing to do with the tiny white pills that I was already obsessing about, the drugs that I couldn’t wait to get home to.
I was in complete denial that I was about to lose everything.
As if my day didn’t suck enough, my phone rang as I walked in the door of my apartment. I answered it, hearing my brother’s enthusiastic voice on the other end.
“I’m applying to an art school in Philadelphia,” Landon said excitedly. I barely heard him. I was searching through my drawer for the baggie I had put there the other night. Finally finding it, I shook out the pills I wanted.
Before I could take them, I registered what my brother had just said.
“You’re what?” I asked, knowing that I should be more supportive, that I should be excited for him. But all I heard was the sound of more money. More money I would need in order to take care of him.
The noose around my neck tightened.
“Uh, yeah. My guidance counselor says I have a good shot at getting in. She wrote me a letter of recommendation. My SAT and ACT scores are really good, Maxx,” Landon rambled on.
“How much does the school cost?” I asked, bursting Landon’s bubble.
Landon was quiet for a while before answering. “I can get scholarships, Maxx. I can get a job. I’ll make it work. You don’t have to help me,” he said, with more defensiveness than I had ever heard from him.
“You know I’ll always help you out, Landon. I just wanted to know,” I explained, and it was true. Even if it meant selling my fucking kidneys on eBay, Landon would go to school. Even if I had to drop out myself and become the biggest drug dealer on the East Coast, my baby brother would have his future.
“I don’t want you to think you have to do anything, Maxx. I know you have it in your head that you need to take care of me. But I’m almost an adult. I’m not helpless. I can do this stuff on my own, you know,” he told me firmly.
I never gave my brother enough credit for the man he was becoming. He was a fighter. He was a survivor. Just like me.
“Just let me worry about paying for it. You worry about getting your ass accepted,” I said lightly, not admitting to the full-out panic the idea created.
Then we ended our conversation and I swallowed the pills.
And when I felt mellow enough to handle what needed to be done, I did the only thing I could think to do.
I called Gash.
“I’m glad you called, X,” Gash said, sitting in his spot behind his desk.
I propped my ankle over my knee and leaned back in the chair as though I didn’t have a care in the world. Too bad I had way too much to care about. My life was one big, never-ending pile of fucking worry.
“I told you a few weeks back that I was expecting a shipment from Mexico. It just came in. This is grade-A shit, X. We’re going to make a killing.” Gash pulled three freezer bags out of his drawer and dropped them on his desk.
I picked one up and opened it, finding it filled with smaller baggies containing a fine, whitish-brown powder.
I looked up at my boss. “What is it?” I asked, sounding stupid. I knew what it was, I just wanted the confirmation.
Gash grinned. “Some of the best Black Pearl I have ever seen.”
Shit, Gash was peddling heroin now.
Okay, so I was being a massive hypocrite, but I had my standards. Selling pills was one thing, but slinging fucking heroin was something else entirely. If I made that leap, I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive myself.
There was something about the way heroin was taken. Snorted or injected. Needles gave me the heebie-jeebies, and snorting anything up your nose seemed like plain old stupid.
“I don’t know, man,” I said slowly, trying to think of an excuse so I wouldn’t have to sell that stuff.
Gash frowned, obviously not liking my less-than-enthusiastic response.
“Do you understand how much money this could make me? Could make you? Are you a fucking moron?” he asked incredulously, looking at me as though I had been offered the Holy Grail and was turning it down.
“It’s heroin, Gash. That shit is a bit too hard-core for me,” I said lamely, knowing that I sounded like a complete pussy.
Gash leaned back in his chair and let out a loud laugh. He gripped his beer belly as though he feared splitting his gut. “Are you kidding me? A drug dealer with a conscience? Give me a break!” he wheezed between guffaws.
Fuck him!
I got to my feet. “Look, I’m not going to sell that shit. Find someone else,” I said, heading to the door.
“I’d rethink that if I were you,” Gash called out before I could leave.
I froze. His words were a threat.
“I know what you and Marco have been doing. You think I wouldn’t notice the door coming up short almost every single weekend? I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive, X.”
I closed the door and sat back down. This asshole had me exactly where he wanted me.
“And I know you’ve got some sticky fingers when it comes to my drugs. But you’ve made the money, so I haven’t begrudged you your fix. As long as it doesn’t impact my business, I don’t have a problem. But don’t confuse my silence with ignorance. You have your uses, X. Just as Marco does. And you’re going to sell my shit. And you’re going to sell all of it.” Gash wasn’t open to an argument. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I was stuck.
I needed the money.
I needed my drugs.
I needed each of those things more than I needed my self-respect.
And Gash was the one pulling all my strings.
I picked up the freezer bags and put them in my book bag.
“How long do I have?” I asked, my acquiescence making Gash very pleased with himself.
“Two weeks. Not a day more. You get ten percent like always. Make it work, X,” he said, dismissing me.
I left his office, pounds of illegal drugs in my bag—and my soul up for grabs to the highest bidder.
“Please come over,” I found myself begging again. It had been days since I had seen Aubrey. She was making herself scarce. It was killing me.
The heroin sat like a lump of stone in my bedroom closet. The pills were quickly becoming not enough. The temptation to try just a little was getting harder and harder to ignore.
I needed Aubrey.
“I can’t, Maxx. I have a lot of work to do,” she said, making her millionth excuse of the week.
“Did you see the picture? The one I did outside your building?” I asked her. She hadn’t mentioned it. It drove me crazy that she hadn’t said a thing about my soul splattered in paint on her doorstep. I had really thought she’d get it. That she’d understand.
But it was like she didn’t give a fuck.
I heard her take a deep breath. “Yes, I saw it,” she said softly.
“Did you like it?” I needled, trying to get a reaction from her. Anything. I just needed something.
“
It was beautiful, Maxx. They’re all beautiful. But . . .”
“But?” I asked, my words becoming hard. She didn’t like it. She hated it.
She hated me.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she said after a beat. And that hurt. A lot.
“Why don’t you want to see me?” I asked, loathing the sound of my own voice. My love for this woman made me high. But it also brought me so fucking low. And it was in the lows that I felt like I couldn’t drag my way out of the pit I found myself in.
I knew she had thought she could change me. She had gone into this relationship seeing me as a screwed-up addict who needed saving. And suddenly I couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t care about me for me but for the charity project she thought I was. And that pissed me off.
So I embraced the anger, because that was easier to handle than the fear that I was failing her completely. The idea that a girl like Aubrey could care about me, just as I was, felt almost blasphemous. Because she deserved better. And I was terrified the day had come when she had figured that out.
My hands were shaking and I was sweating. I felt the familiar sickness deep in my gut. I reached over to my bedside table and opened it, looking for the brown bottle I knew would be there.
“I do want to see you, Maxx,” Aubrey said, and I could hear the lie.
“Then come over, just for a little while,” I pleaded one last time.
I heard her sigh just as my hands closed around the bottle I was searching for. I shook it. It was empty.
Fuck me, it was empty.
I popped the top, thinking I must be imagining things, but there was nothing there.
I threw the bottle across the room. Aubrey was saying something on the other end of the phone, but I was no longer listening.
“Maxx?” she said when I didn’t say anything. I was too busy ransacking my room, looking for anything to take the edge off. I had to have a pill around here somewhere.
“I’ve got to go,” I said in a strangled whisper.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sounding concerned.
Oh, so now she wanted to play worried girlfriend? If she cared so much, she’d be here beside me, helping me when I needed her.
She was the only thing that could help.
But she wouldn’t come. She was purposely staying away.
“That’s fine, Aubrey. Stay the fuck away. See if I care,” I barked petulantly. I know I sounded like an ass. But she was giving me no choice. I had to get off the phone. I had to stop thinking about her.
There was only one thing I could focus on right now.
Finding my drugs.
“Maxx, don’t be like this. I just need some time . . .”
“Take all the time you need. I’m over it,” I spat out, hanging up.
I dropped the phone onto the bed and crawled on my hands and knees to a pile of clothing on the floor. I destroyed my room in my search and couldn’t find anything.
“Ahhh!” I screamed, curling up into a ball. My body was racked with the shakes. I felt the bile building up in the back of my throat.
My phone was ringing. I knew who it was.
Aubrey.
I reached out my hand, trying to grab it. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I should have told her what was wrong. Then she’d be here to help me.
I needed her so badly.
The phone went silent and didn’t ring again.
She had given up. She wasn’t calling back.
I looked over at my closet, knowing what was inside.
Maybe just this once.
No. If I went down that road I’d never be able to come back.
Come on, you know you want to.
It was taunting me now. It knew how weak I was.
Just one tiny little bump. Not much at all. You’ll feel so much better.
Shit, I was hearing voices now.
I covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out the tempting voice ringing in my head.
“No!” I shouted, as though the bags of drugs hidden in the depths of my closet would hear me.
I uncurled my rigid body and dragged myself to my bed. Reaching up, I found my phone and brought it to my ear.
I wanted to call Aubrey. I needed to hear her voice. She’d get me through this. She was all I needed. She loved me. Her love was enough.
But instead, I called someone else.
The phone was ringing and then it connected.
One step closer to my salvation.
“Marco. I need you to bring me something.”
chapter
twenty-eight
aubrey
i was trying to finish up my homework. I had spent every day of the last week trying to get caught up.
After the disastrous night at the club with Maxx and staying up all night, only to have him show up at five in the morning high, I had made a hard decision. I had stayed up for a long time after he had passed out. He had never said a word to me. Nothing. It had hurt so badly. And I had cried for a long time after that. I had been completely depressed.
Our relationship was a mess. It wasn’t getting any better. I was going to fall hard and fast with him to rock bottom.
I needed distance.
I hadn’t been able to face his bleary eyes the next morning, so I made sure to leave before he woke up.
But then he had called me later, and I recognized the panic in his voice. He was in major withdrawal.
He had begged me to come over, and I had. I had never been able to say no to him, even when it was the best thing for me.
He had his drugs, and I had mine.
And mine was Maxx Demelo.
When I had arrived at his apartment, he seemed better, and I knew instantly he had used before I had gotten there. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I want to smack the shit out of him for not caring enough about himself to stop.
But then he touched me, and even though I wanted to push him away, I didn’t. I couldn’t. My body craved him.
So I had let him take off my clothes and throw me on the couch, where he devoured me whole.
And while he thrust into me, my body wrapped around him, my heart began to break.
He was stuck in an endless cycle, and I was stuck in it with him.
This was going to ruin me.
This wasn’t a story with a happy ending. Maxx and I weren’t going to live that perfect life with the white picket fence.
The only life we could have together was ugly and messy and destructive.
And I knew without a doubt that it would kill us both.
I couldn’t save him.
There was no changing the path he was on. He wouldn’t let me. There were forces in his life that were more powerful than my love for him. The intensity of his feelings for me and mine for him just weren’t enough. I wasn’t sure they ever would be.
He was going over a very steep cliff, and if I didn’t back away, he’d take me with him.
And I wouldn’t do that to myself.
As much as I loved him, I couldn’t turn a blind eye as he obliterated himself. I had sworn I wouldn’t walk away, that I’d stand by him, no matter what. But those promises were made by a naïve fool.
I had stupidly thought that by helping Maxx, I’d be making up for the ways I hadn’t helped Jayme. As though one life could replace the other.
It was absolutely ridiculous.
Maxx wasn’t Jayme. He was his own brand of fucked-up, and he was so deep in his hell that the only way of being with him was to sink into it with him. He wasn’t prepared to fight any sort of battle to get better. He wasn’t willing to let me fight for him.
My issues about my sister were my own, and I had to find a way to forgive myself and move forward.
And watching the man I loved fall apart was not the way to do it.
But Maxx wouldn’t let me go. He was persistent. He called me over and over again. Our conversations were always the same.
He needed me. He couldn’t live his l
ife without me. He loved me. Oh God, did he love me. He’d die if he couldn’t be with me.
He’d cry. He’d beg. He’d scream. He’d yell. He had become my own personal devil, and I was terrified of him. And for him.
I almost caved so many times. I almost rushed over to his apartment to let him hold me. Maybe, just maybe, this time he’d hear me. He’d realize that he didn’t need the drugs. That together we could get through anything.
I would almost have myself talked into it, and then the other Maxx would come out to play. And he’d become angry. He’d get nasty. And it was easy to deny the primal instinct to rush over and help him.
So I resisted. As painful as it was. I wanted him. My heart hurt from being away from him. In the short time I had known Maxx, he had become essential.
But I was doing this for me. I had to.
Then he stopped calling. He stopped coming to support group. Kristie talked about reporting his noncompliance to his probation officer. I never saw him on campus.
It was like he had disappeared.
I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. He never answered. He had disappeared—for good this time.
“Do you want some company at the library?” Renee asked me, poking her head into my bedroom. I was packing up my books and assortment of pens, about to head to campus to try to keep my mind off Maxx and what he was possibly doing.
As much as I knew staying away from him was the best thing for me, it didn’t stop how maddening it was to be kept in the dark. The not knowing was going to drive me crazy.
Renee knew some of what was going on with Maxx. I had needed to confide in someone. But I hadn’t been able to tell her everything. She admitted to not being very comfortable around him.
“He’s hot as hell, Aubrey, and he’s crazy about you, that’s obvious,” she had said.
“But . . . ,” I prompted.
“But there’s something in his eyes. They’re so sad. But unbalanced. I’ve seen eyes like that before. Those are scary eyes to see,” Renee had told me, and I couldn’t deny it. Maxx did have sad eyes, and there was something unstable about him. I had seen that firsthand more times than I cared to think about.
As much as I appreciated the renewed confidences of our friendship, I still couldn’t tell Renee everything. I couldn’t tell her about watching Maxx sell drugs, or about knowing that every time we weren’t together, he was using.
Lead Me Not Page 33
