by Amy Cecil
Honey begins to come down from her high, and it seems she realizes she has made a serious mistake. “Fine!” she retorts and slams the door behind her. Okay, so not completely aware of her mistake. Slamming the door was not a good move.
Nobody says a word. What. The. Fuck!
Ice turns toward me and yells, “I thought you had that shit handled?”
“Fuck! I thought I did.”
He is so pissed at me. Fuck, I’m pissed at me. I really thought I had her under control. My bad for not realizing she is worse off than I thought. My bad for assuming it would be that easy.
“We’re done here!” he says to the group.
They all get up and start to leave.
“Sainte, Rebel, my office now.” Fuck, I had a feeling we were going to be kept behind. “Spike, tell Honey to get her ass in my office with a major attitude adjustment!” he calls after Spike. He storms out and heads to his office. Rebel and I follow.
We get inside his office, but before he speaks, I jump in. “Ice, I thought—”
“Enough!” he yells. Holy fuck, he’s pissed. Can’t say I really blame him. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Honey comes walking in as if nothing is wrong. She’s still high, but the euphoria she felt when she stormed into the chapel is wearing off. Where did she get the coke? I thought I had disposed of everything.
“Honey, sit down!” Ice demands.
She sits and opens her mouth to speak, but before she can utter a word, he says, “You will not speak. I have heard enough from you today to last a lifetime. Instead, you will listen. Understand?”
She nods.
“There is something fucking wrong with you. You’ve lost your fucking mind. I’m so fucking pissed at you right now; you fucking know better. You’ve always known the rules, and now suddenly you think you are so entitled that the rules no longer apply to you. Well I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. You are not entitled, and the rules do still apply.”
I don’t think I have ever seen Ice this mad. It’s scary, watching that vein on his temple.
He continues. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but it stops now. I’m sick and tired of this damn pity party game you’re playing. You are not the only one who lost someone. We all loved Hawk. We all miss him, but we have to move on.”
She starts to cry. That’s the thing about coke. Ten to fifteen minutes and the high is gone. Unfortunately for her, the waterworks aren’t gonna save her this time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ice this mad.
“I know about the cocaine, and it stops now.” She looks at me accusingly.
I interrupt, holding my hands up in defense. “He knew, darlin’. I didn’t tell him shit.”
Ice nods. “Yes, I knew. I should have done something when I first realized it, but I honestly thought you would be able to get through it on your own. I enabled you, and that was a mistake, but I’m done. No more making things easy for you, Honey.” He gets up and walks toward her.
She looks up at him.
Towering over her, he says, “I will only say this once, so you better listen good. If you can’t abide by our rules, which includes the drugs, then pack your shit and get out! I will not tolerate your insolence again. You got it?”
“But, Ice—”
“It’s a simple answer, Honey, yes or no.”
“Yes,” she replies meekly.
“Now get the fuck out of my office!”
She runs out, and he turns toward me. “She doesn’t leave your sight. If that means you bunk with her at night, then so be it. You have just become her shadow.”
“Got it,” I say as move toward the door. I pause. “Ice, I’m sorry, man. I thought I had disposed of her stash. She must have had some hidden, and it’s my fault I didn’t search her room.”
He doesn’t say a word, just nods. I walk out the door.
Chapter 10
Honey
You stupid bitch! What the hell is wrong with you? I walk out of Ice’s office, and they’re all staring. I have to get out of here. I just got the worst emotional beating I have ever gotten from him. I can’t take it and run straight to my room. I just can’t face them. And fucking Sainte? I know he told. Why won’t he just go away? There is no way Ice would have known I was using. I was careful. I’ve been so good at hiding it. Obviously not. That last little outburst of yours pretty much clinched it.
I can’t stop crying. Just one more hit, and everything will be okay. What did I do with that bag? I look around the room, and for the life of me, I can’t remember where I left it. Oh, wait. It’s down at the bar, behind Ice’s stash of Maker’s Mark. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How am I going to get it now? I can’t go down there and face everyone. Not after what I just did.
I rummage through my purse, hoping against all hope that some may have spilled into my purse. I dump everything on the bed and frantically inspect its contents. Nothing. Fuck. Just then, my door flies open.
I run to him and start punching his chest. “You fucking asshole, Sainte. You told Ice! I know you did!”
“I did not. I told you; he already knew.” He reaches for my wrists and holds them in place.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You both are out to get me! Everyone is.”
“That’s the farthest thing from the truth, darlin’. It’s called tough love.”
“That is a lie! Now that Hawk is gone, I have nobody to protect me. He always protected me. He was always there for me.” I wipe tears from my eyes. “You all want me gone!” I struggle to get free of his grasp. He’s too strong.
He pulls me in close. “Honey, it’s the coke talking. Stop and think about what you are saying. Nobody wants you gone. This club loves you.”
Deep down, I know he’s right. I just can’t help this feeling that I don’t belong here anymore. First Emma comes and takes my place at Ice’s side, then Hawk fucking dies. I feel as if everyone is against me and blames me for Hawk.
I stop a moment. But I love this club. There is no other place I would rather be. I stop struggling, tears streaming down my face. Once I’m calm, I look up at him.
“How could you?”
“Baby, I didn’t.” He caresses my cheek. “He is the one who alerted me. He’s the one who asked me to keep an eye on you.” He bends down and looks me straight in the eye. “Can’t you see? He fuckin’ cares about you and doesn’t want to see you kill yourself. The coke is destroying you, baby.” He releases his hold on me.
I walk to the bed and sit. My shoulders slump. He walks toward me and sits on the bed next to me.
“Can we be honest, no lies?” he asks.
I nod. I’m defeated. There is no more fight left in me. I know exactly what he’s going to ask, and I need to tell him the truth. I can’t keep up with all the lies anymore. It’s getting just like before, and I am so out of control. “Tell me how long you have been using, for real this time.”
“Remember that kiss in the kitchen? Well, the next day was when I found out Hawk saw us. I couldn’t handle the guilt and called Slash. He’s my dealer from before. I’ve been using ever since.”
“I had a feeling.” The look of disappointment on his face tells me his opinion matters to me more than I’m willing to admit. “So you know what happens next?”
“Oh God, Sainte, please don’t send me back to rehab!”
He looks at me warily. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“I know, I know, but we can do this. You and me. I promise, I’ll do everything you say.” The last thing I want to do is get stuck in rehab for six weeks or more. I know I can beat this. I’m so willing to give it a try if Sainte will help me. “Please,” I beg him.
“Okay, we’ll try this without rehab. But one slip up, Honey, and off you go. You got it?”
I nod quickly. “I do!”
“First, give me all your stash. Everything. And mind you, I’ll be searching your room to make sure it is clean.”
“The only bag I have is downstairs, hidden behind the M
aker’s Mark bottles.”
“What the fuck, Honey!” he exclaims. “What if a cop came in here? Do you have any idea the risk you have brought to this club by keeping that shit here!” He’s mad, and I totally understand. He’s right. He also doesn’t understand that when you need a hit, rational thought is not a contributing factor.
“I know. I’m sorry. You all were in your meeting, so it was me and a couple prospects. They’re clueless, so I didn’t think.”
“Hell yes, you didn’t think.” He gets up. “I’ll be right back, and we’re going through everything in this room. Got it?”
I nod, and he turns and leaves the room.
You can do this, Honey. You have to do this, I tell myself over and over while he is away. This club is my family, and the last thing I want is to lose my family. I already did that when I skipped town all those years ago. I haven’t talked to any of my blood family since then, and their lack of contact with me is clear they have no desire to see me. This club is all I got.
A few minutes later, he’s back, bag in hand. Just seeing it, I want it. He walks straight into the bathroom and I hear the toilet flush. “All right, now you just sit tight while I look around.”
“That’s all I had,” I say defensively.
“Perhaps, but you’ve already burned me once. I’m not letting it happen a second time. Ice wasn’t only mad at you; he was pissed at me too. I told him I had you under control. Obviously, after this afternoon’s outburst, I didn’t. It stops now.” He rummages through my drawers, digs through my closet, and checks under my mattress and in my pillowcases.
Damn, I never thought to hide it there.
He goes into the bathroom, and I hear things banging around. He comes out empty-handed.
“Now, I want you to call your buddy Slash and set up a meeting with him. I’d like to have a few words with him.”
“Sainte, no, you can’t do that.”
“Oh, hell yes I can. Call him.”
I reluctantly do as he says and call him. I pray he doesn’t answer and can’t even begin to say how disappointed I am when he does.
“Hey, baby, you want more of my dick?”
I cringe at his words. Oh God, no. I set the meetup for an hour from now. When I disconnect the line, I say, “One hour, McDonald’s on Plum Street.”
“Hand over your phone and the keys to your car.”
“But—”
“No arguments. It’s my way or the highway, doll. Hand them over.”
I realize he means what he says, and thoughts of rehab flash through my mind. I have a feeling I’m about to enter hell—well, Sainte’s version of it anyway. Surely it can’t be as bad as rehab. I reluctantly hand him my keys—both sets—and my phone.
“You do nothing, and I mean nothing without me. We are glued at the hip.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Even if I have to use the bathroom?”
“Yes, even then. You no longer have privacy. You are no longer in control of anything. I am.”
Holy shit, he means it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to get through this, but it beats the alternatives. One, I don’t want to be a junkie, and two, I don’t want to go back to rehab. More importantly, I don’t want to lose my family. I hate myself right now for letting this get so outta hand.
“Now tell me, when did you have your last hit?”
I look at my watch. “About fifteen minutes ago.”
“You’re starting to crash, aren’t you?”
I nod.
He shakes his head. “Okay, you can get through this.” He takes out his phone and sends a text. Placing the phone in his pocket, he says, “I’ve called in for reinforcements.”
A few minutes later, there is a knock at my door, which Sainte opens. “Hey,” he says. “I need you pick up some things for me a-sap.” He pauses, and I try to look around him to see who is at the door, but I can’t tell. He continues. “Two cases of water, some fruit and veggies.” He pauses and then says, “Oh, and protein bars.” He turns back toward me. “What kind of fruits and veggies do you like?”
“Anything really,” I answer. What in the hell is he doing? I wonder.
He turns back toward the door. “Okay, pick whatever looks good. We need vitamins.” He pauses. “Thiamine, zinc, magnesium, and folate. Vitamin C too,” he says. “Oh, and get some vitamin B and fish oil too.” He stops and thinks. “Imodium or Pepto, green tea, and melatonin. You got all that?”
“Yes, sir.”
I recognize that voice. It’s Tiny. I should have known he would rope a prospect into helping him.
“Oh, and I’m gonna need all my things moved into here.”
“Got it, Sainte.”
“Good. Thanks, Tiny.” He closes the door and turns back toward me. “We have a long road ahead of us, darlin’. You ready for this?”
“Do I have a choice?” I reply sarcastically.
He shakes his head. “Nope, afraid not.”
He pulls his phone out again and sends another text. “Forget something?”
“No, just sent a text to Emma. She’s gonna have to take care of the boys for a while. In a few hours, you will be in no shape to take care of anyone, even yourself.”
I get up from the bed. “Sainte, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“No turning back now.” He puts his phone back in his pocket and says, “Now, let’s go pay a visit to Slash.”
We make our way downstairs, and without a word to anyone, we leave. With Sainte driving, we head toward McDonald’s in my car. When we get there, we wait fifteen, maybe thirty minutes before Slash pulls into the parking lot.
He parks next to me and then notices Sainte. Sainte doesn’t even give him a chance to get out of the car. Sainte is out of the car, opening Slash’s door and pulling him out. He grabs him by the collar and slams him against the car. “You fucking piece of scumbag shit. If I ever catch you selling drugs in this town, I’ll fucking kill you. You got me?”
Slash is terrified and just nods.
“This town is run by the Knights of Silence MC, and we don’t fucking want drugs in our town.” He releases his collar and turns to leave.
Slash frantically tries to get back in his car when Sainte turns back and throws him a solid punch to the left side of his face, knocking him to the ground.
“That’s for fucking around with my girl!” He waits as Slash struggles to get back up. “Now go back and crawl into the hole you came out of. I don’t ever wanna see you in Edinboro again.”
Sainte gets back in the car, and we take off. When we get back to the clubhouse, he ushers me straight to my room.
“Find something comfortable to wear. By tonight, you are gonna wanna rip those clothes off. Everything will hurt, and you will be frantic.”
“But, Sainte—”
“Do as your told,” he says, cutting me off. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
I walk to my dresser and rummage through my things. I pull out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then walk into the bathroom.
“Oh, hell no. You change right here.”
“But—”
He grabs my arm. “I wasn’t kidding about me and you being glued at the hip. From now on, Honey, when I say jump, you fuckin’ ask how high.”
I nod. He’s right. I begin to undress and suddenly I feel self-conscious. He senses my distress and says, “Come on, Honey. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Well, he does have a point.
“You have things in here you like to do?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. What do you do in your spare time?”
“Play on my phone.”
He looks frustrated and pulls out his phone again. “Do you like smutty romance novels?” he asks as he’s typing on his phone.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Like what?”
“Amy Cecil has a new romantic suspense out about Jack the Ripper. I think it is called Ripper.”
He finishes ty
ping and puts his phone away.
I finish changing and sit back down on the bed. I need a hit. Anxiety washes over me, so I think of ways to dodge Sainte, get my phone back, and call Slash. I’m sure even after the scare he just received, he’ll do anything for money. I look at my watch. Fuck, it’s only been an hour and a half since my last hit. I’ve got a bigger problem than I thought if I can’t go longer between hits. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t get the coke now that makes me want it more.
“You gotta work through it, baby,” he says. How the fuck does he know, and why is he calling me baby? And why the fuck did he tell Slash I was his girl?
“You seem to think you know what I’m going through, but you have no fucking clue.”
He walks to the bed and sits next to me. “I know exactly what you are going through. I’ve been there.”
“You have?” To say I’m shocked is an understatement. Never in a million years did I imagine Sainte had been an addict. He’s always so controlled.
“Yeah, a long time ago.”
I open my mouth to ask him about it, but he quickly jumps in.
“And no, I’m not talking about it. We’ll save that for another time.”
I pout. “Fine.”
Chapter 11
Sainte
After Tiny delivered the things I asked for and Honey and I put them away in somewhat of an organized manner on her dresser, I could see she was getting antsy. She was pacing the room. The more I encouraged her to work it out, the more agitated she got. I gave her a bottle of water, her vitamins, and some melatonin. The melatonin seemed to take the edge off enough to help her fall asleep. As I watch her sleep peacefully, I think to myself, Enjoy that peace, darlin’, because shit is about to hit the fan.
I hate what she is about to go through, and if I could prevent it, I would. Unfortunately, she has to be the one do this. The only way she’s gonna get better is to get worse.
She tosses and turns in her sleep and then wakes up with a scream. “Get them off me!”
I rush to the bed and pull her into my arms. “There’s nothing on you.”
