Heroin Love

by Hunter, I. M.

  “That’s not true, I really do. Come on tell me what’s going on,” cutting Ben off.

  “I am going to propose to her next month on her birthday,” he stated calmly.

  “That’s great news! If you want some help picking out a ring let me know, we can go shopping together.”

  “I already got one and stop it. I know what your doing, trying to draw my attention away from what I came her for,” He redirected.

  “What? Can’t I talk to you?”

  “Are you going to let me meet her or what?”

  “Why don’t we go get some lunch and talk about a few things,” slightly insistent.

  “Dad, I don’t want to go get fucking sushi with you, let me in the house,” his face turning to stone, emotionless.

  “Ben she is sick right now, it’s not a good time.”

  “Really...that’s your excuse? You couldn’t come up with anything better?” Jumping into his car slamming the door. The window rolls down swiftly, “Your an asshole.” He punches the gas pedal, the tires screeching as he sped down the street with a trail of smoke.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sitting impatiently in the doctor’s office, Rachael half-conscious like always, the room felt stuffier than before. A musty smell filled the room, dust particles shimmering in the light as they danced in the air. The incessant ticking of the ordinary asylum type clock on the wall could drive anyone insane. Staring at the worn doctor’s chair, the fabric cracked, the cushion showing through. A peculiar stain near the back of the room, which colored the floor a yellowish-brown color, which probably explains the odor. The door creaks open, the doctor walking in staring at his clipboard, wearing the same exact outfit I saw him in last time.

  “So what seems to be the issue?” He asks in a monotone.

  I perk up, sitting up in my chair, “The medicine doesn’t seem to working as effectively as it did a couple of days ago, doesn’t even seem to phase her,” I explained with concern.

  “And what exactly does that mean?” Sitting down in his repulsive looking chair.

  “She is still getting sick, the cravings remain, it is as if she never came here at all.”

  “Hmm, I see,” looking down at his notes, “Why don’t we up her dose a milligram.”

  “Why not two? She does...had a severe addiction. I think we should do two so she doesn’t relapse again,” I stated in a matter of fact tone.

  In the same monotone voice, “And were did you get your medical degree?” Peering over his readers to stare at me.

  “Listen, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, I just want what is best for her,” I answered with a slight apology.

  “I understand that but you have to understand a couple of things,”snapping his fingers to get Rachael’s attention. I see Rachael open her eyes slightly, still swaying trying to stay awake. “This is not a cure all, it’s not a miracle drink that you just come here and dose and boom your all better. It is an aid, something to help you on her road to recovery. She has to want to quit, you need to help her quit. She needs to develop coping skills to deal with stress and any other negative feelings she may have.”

  “Yeah, I have already looked into that. Can you point us in the right direction for a counselor. A one on one counselor, I don’t want her in group meetings,” I said proud of my research.

  “I wouldn’t of recommended group meetings right off the bat. Addicts have an amazing talent of finding the one bad person, even in a group of thousands. Start with this counselor,” reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a business card. “She is the best at what she does, she is expensive but well worth the premium. Once she develops the coping skills necessary to deal with stressors and peer pressure put her in some group meetings, they do help. Anything else I could help you with?”

  “I stumbled across an article about ‘take-home medicine’...”

  “That is out of the question, she is nowhere near capable of doing that. She hasn’t been in rehab long enough to be trusted with that,” he stated sternly, switching out of his monotone.

  “How much is it going to cost me to get some? Money isn’t an issue,” making firm confident eye contact with the doctor.

  “I am upping her dose by two milligrams per your argument. That is all your getting out of me, now if you will excuse me I have other patients to attend to,” getting up off of his disgusting chair, leaving the room agitated by my proposal.

  “Come on, lets go get your medicine,” helping Rachael out of her chair, she walks into the back room to get her new dose administered.

  Driving Rachael home, I see the medicine working. Smiling at myself as I see her slowly come back to life. It was quite amusing watching a zombie rise from the dead. Her eyes lighting up, the puffiness in her face going down.

  “So is that any better?” I asked with concern.

  “Yes, I feel great. I’m not going to see a fucking shrink though,” she stated with a fiery tone.

  “Rachael stop it,” placing my hand on her lap trying to comfort her. “It’s for your own good, and it’s not a shrink. It’s a counselor, they are going to teach you how to deal with certain things to keep you on track. Don’t you want to get better?”

  “Whatever,” rolling her eyes slouching in her chair.

  “Don’t ruin the rest of the day. Are you going to plan out the nursery for Vinchenzo?”

  A smile came across her face, “What makes you think it’s going to be a boy?”

  “How could it not be, look who made it,” I jested.

  A burst of laughter echoed in the car, tears started to cover Rachael’s eyes as she continued to laugh at me. “Kevin your such a dork.”

  Pulling up to the house to drop of Rachael, “Okay, I have a busy day. I am not going to be able to come home unless it is an emergency. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

  Rolling her eyes at me again, “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Stop it, I just care about you. Come here, give me a kiss.” Rachael leaning in to give me a kiss, her moist succulent lips rubbing against mine. “Love you. Text me some pictures of what you pick out.”

  “Love you,” Rachael responds as she closes the door.

  I watch her from the driveway walk up towards the front door. Opening the door she turned around and gave me what looked like a menacing good-bye wave as she closed the front door behind her.

  Walking nonchalantly in to the lobby of Onyx Environmental, Ann appearing just as calm as I was.

  “How are you today Ann?”

  “I’m doing fantastic today thank you. How are you?” Surprisingly upbeat for Ann.

  “Wow somebody must of had a good night. Do you have some good news to share?” I inquired.

  “It’s too early to say for sure but I am pregnant. I am going to the doctor next week,” her face shined with joy.

  “That’s great news, good for you,” walking over to her to give her a quick congratulatory hug. “Is everything set up for this afternoon?”

  “You know it is sir. Everyone R.S.V.P’ed to the ‘gathering.’”

  “That’s great, do you have my speech?” My face turning to stone.

  “What speech, you never asked for a speech,” Her face filled with anxiety.

  “Relax, you’ll upset the baby. I am just messing with you,” laughing as I walked away. Walking around the corner, poking my head back out, “Congratulations again.”

  Strolling into my office, gazing over to my desk I see a stack of paper with a black sticky note on top of it. There was never any writing on the sticky note, it was Ann’s way of telling me that those papers needed my immediate attention that day. Looking down at my watch, I still had a couple of hours to kill before my lunch with Megan. Hanging my black pinstriped suit jacket in the closet, I sat at my desk ready to tackle the problems of the day.

  Placing the stack of papers front and center on my desk, I grabbed on of my Mont Blanc pens and began to sift through the papers. The first was a typical chemical order for the re
st of the month. The next was a list of vehicle maintenance suggestions for all of the trucks. Ranging from oil changes to engine repairs, something was always broken. I even wanted to make sure the chips and dents in the trucks were repaired so they didn’t come off as grungy looking. I always looked on the list for truck #25, he was one of the very few allowed a take home truck and for some reason always requested money for repairs. I scrolled through the list and there it was again, $1200 request for repairs. He was a heavy drinker and I suspected him of driving the company vehicle drunk but could never prove it. I denied his claim for repairs, and approved all of the rest.

  The final packet to review was a bid for the Cinnabar Development. Containing 30,000 middle to high income homes it finally came up for big after ten years. Going through the comprehensive spreadsheet that broke down the square footage of every model, the number of each model, cost of the chemicals per square foot, estimated labor time to complete the project every quarter, and our estimated profit with a fine tooth comb. The numbers were slightly off, making adjustments with my pen, signing off with an okay pending the changes. Glancing towards my watch, I needed to start heading towards Sushi-Gon. Gathering my packet of approvals to hand off to Ann, I grabbed my jacket out of the closet and walked towards the exit.

  The ever familiar buzzing of my phone went off. Rachael sent me a picture of a crib she picked out. It was a circular beach theme bed, the sides had a veneer made from fiberglass that resembled waves. Wrapping up the sides of the crib were seashell shaped shells that lead to the recessed bed. Railings made to look like sand pillars surrounded the crib.

  Kevin: That looks nice.

  Another picture quickly followed, a sand castle situated in the corner. Stretching for the floor to the ceiling, with doors made from drift wood to finish off the indoor tree house that Vinchenzo could eventually play with.

  Kevin: So far so good.

  Texting her back as I walked towards Ann.

  “Here’s everything you requested,” handing the packet to Ann. “There are some adjustments to Cinnabar, but other than that everything else is fine. Oh and #25 is getting denied his repair claim, I am tired of cleaning up after his drunk ass. I am going to lunch.”

  “Yes sir. Remember the gathering later today. Do you need me to call you to remind you?” She asked genuinely.

  “No thank you Ann, I got it. I will see you soon,” walking out of the lobby.

  Pulling into the parking lot of Sushi-Gon, I see Megan’s Escalade parked out front of the restaurant, the bumper dented in on the front of the SUV. I parked near the back side of the parking lot giving me a clear view of the restaurant and the front of Toni’s. The familiar Grand Cherokee parked out front of the building. I didn’t see Mr. Carlson’s car anywhere in either parking lot.

  Walking casually into the restaurant, I see Megan sitting in the far corner of the restaurant , sipping on a glass of wine, a bottle of Cheval sitting in a wine chiller and a glass of Macallan sitting across from her. She was wearing a black cocktail dress, a deep neckline that revealed the sides of her breasts. Her hair flowing elegantly down her shoulders. Approaching the table, noticing the perspiration on the wine chiller and the glass of whiskey having nearly no ice.

  “How long have you been here?” Seeing her eyelids slightly drooping, a film of glass covering her eyes. I took my seat on the bench across from her.

  “This is bottle number two,” she slurred. Red lipstick stains covering the rim of the glass.

  “What happen to your car?” I asked curiously.

  “You know those big orange barrels they put in the middle of the street during construction?...Well one day I was driving by some of them and I pretended they were you. Who knew they filled those with water?”

  “Well that is good to know. Okay, so what do you want to talk about?” Taking a sip of my water downed whiskey.

  “What do you mean ‘what do I want to talk about?’ I need to know what this whore has that I don’t. Why she just sucks you in, why you can’t come home to us, your family. What does she just fuck you 24/7? I bet that shit has been around the block a thousand times.”

  Getting slightly agitated by Megan’s insults, I try to compose myself in a calm manner. “Megan it has nothing to do with any of that, I still love you,” grabbing her hands softly, rubbing the tops of them. “I honestly can’t answer any of those questions right now.”

  “What is she sexier? Has bigger tits? Gives you better head?” Speaking very bluntly towards me.

  “Come on, watch your mouth. Can we talk about this calmly?”

  “No Kevin, fuck your calm. I want some answers,” snapping her fingers to signal the waiter. Seeing the familiar face of George come over to our table. “George can I have another bottle please,” turning her attention immediately back to me. “What am I just the nagging wife that your tired of screwing?”

  “Megan, I told you it has nothing to do with that. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s just an escape from everything. Makes me feel young again, I don’t know Megan,” gulping down the rest of my drink.

  “Really? An escape, makes you feel young again? Guess what Kevin, your fucking old. And how old is this little whore of yours?”

  Ashamed to tell her, “Does that really matter?”

  “It matters to me.” The waiter dropping off the uncorked bottle of wine, replacing it the empty one in the wine chiller. Megan pouring herself another glass of wine. “Where did you meet her? Was she really that special to miss our cruise?”

  Not wanting to answer any of these question, “Megan none of this really matters. Can’t we just try to fix us. Well fix me, I fucked up. Your perfect.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up Kevin, your little complimentary comments are not going to work...” she stated firmly, while gulping down more wine. Her voice fading as she continued her rant.

  Megan was looking quite stunning sitting there, her breasts partially showing as she swung her hands around scolding me at the table. I kept imagining her bent over on the table, getting fucked from behind. Her loud intoxicating moans echoing through the restaurant. Flipping her over, wrapping her freshly oiled long lean legs around my neck as I railed into her, the face she would be making would be irresistible. .

  “Fine,” I said hesitantly while rolling my eyes. “I met her on my birthday, under awkward circumstances, and it just kind of flourished into a thing,” standing up from the table. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  “Really Kevin? Stop acting like a child and come talk to me,” mocking me.

  “I will be right back,” taking a couple of steps past Megan I turn my head over my shoulder, “You going to come?”

  Megan was non-responsive, noticing her ears rise as a smile crept across her face. Without saying anything else I headed towards the bathroom.

  The zen asian music that filled the restaurant was more prominent in the restroom. The urinals were empty, walking down the aisle of stalls hitting each door open as I walked by to make sure I was alone. Standing near the doorway, waiting for Megan to follow in my footsteps, impatiently tapping my fingers on my thighs. The door suddenly swings open rapidly, a stranger standing in the doorway.

  “I don’t think you want to come in here,” I commented.

  Looking at me confused, “And why not?”

  “Well let’s just say someone didn’t fully make it to the toilet before release. We are waiting for maintenance.”

  “Oh my...”

  “Your free to use the woman’s restroom,” I suggested.

  The door started to close at a snails pace, unexpectedly stopping in it’s tracks. The tips of Megan’s french manicured nailed visible past the edge of the door. She pushed the door open, and looked at me with apprehensive eyes.

  “I don’t know why I am doing this. Either I am really drunk or I really love you,” she confessed softly.

  “Well I hope it is the latter but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” smirking at her. “I was just goin
g to the restroom.”

  “So you didn’t want me to come in here and screw you?” Shrugging her shoulders as she turned around.

  Grabbing her arm, pulling her into the restroom. I pinned her against the bathroom door and swung the deadbolt over. “Well if that’s what you had in mind,” whispering in her ear. Being able to feel the warmth of her breath on my face.

  “What girl doesn’t dream about fucking her cheating husband in a raunchy public restroom?” She jested with sarcasm.

  Biting the side of neck gently, her skin tasted divine as if I was taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. Lifting her up against the wall, her legs wrapping around my waist. Biting her bottom lip, I pulled back with some reserve.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I stated passionately.

  “I want to, now shut up and get to it,” she demanded.

  That was all the clearance I needed. Biting firmly into her neck, feeling her muscles between my teeth. Megan sucks her teeth trying to subside the pain as her nails dig into to my back. Sliding a strap off of shoulder, completely exposing one of her breasts. Craning my neck, barely being able to reach her nipple with the tip of my tongue. Her nipples firm, her skin becoming bumpy as a tingling sensation surged through her body.

  Turning around, placing her down on one of the frigid stone sinks that lined the restroom. Pushing her backwards, her head resting on the mirror. I pulled up her dress revealing her panty-less vagina.

  “Your a bad girl,” I said smiling.

  Getting down on my knees in front of her, the smell of her sweet pussy lofting through the air. Starting at her knees, gently kissing her silky skin, I work my way down to the crease of your groin. Stopping just before her lips as a tease, I work my way down her other leg as they started to quiver from anticipation.

  “Do it,” her voice quavered with emotion.

  Placing my face centimeters away from her clitoris, breathing softly onto it, her body squirming. Placing the flat of my tongue on her pussy, she tasted sweeter than fresh fruit. Pushing herself closer into my face as her body arched, an echoing moan filled the bathroom.