“Tell me,” he says. Love is needy, desperate, and making sure.
“I love you,” I say, crying out as he makes me come. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting, grasping the back of the couch with a rough from working hand, and holding himself up with his other hand. He loves me over and over. He leans down and takes my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down when he lets go.
“I’ll do anything for you, B,” he says again against my lips. “But I’m not getting you drugs.” He leans back and pulls out, making me wince. “Especially when I just beat someone’s face in for doing just that.” He tucks himself back inside his shorts and stands up. I fix my panties and pull my dress down.
“I’m not asking you to get me bullets so I can shoot myself,” I say bitterly. He laughs once.
“You kinda are, B,” he says solemnly. He shakes his head and grabs the back of his neck. I watch him walk to his room, thinking I don’t need you to do a damn thing for me. I'll figure this out.
***
I flip the baggie in my hand. Pulling it open, I take a pill out and look at it in the light. Blue flows through my veins, keeping me calm and normal, but just for a rush, I crush this one and snort it. I feel easy now, and the anxiety has disappeared. Colors look better, and sounds are smoother. My plan worked, and I’ve gotten enough to last a good while, giving myself time to find another dealer because Cali said she wouldn’t do it again. My friend knows I need help, too, and my brother and boyfriend would kill her if they knew she helped me.
Life goes on, and I keep my best-hidden secret away from my boy. Lying comes along with addiction and gets as easy as a prostitute in Vegas, just as popping one without anything to drink does.
It’s nightfall, and River should have called by now, but he hasn’t. I send him a text and call him more than once, but no response. Sighing, I think about this morning with him. No one could love me like he does. River pulls me in and completely takes me over. I put the pill bag down and look at my phone again, before I switch it out for my sketchpad and pencil. I start out with jagged edges and small strokes, smudging and filling in as my passion bleeds out of me. Hours tick by and still no phone call. I fall asleep sometime later and wake with the sunlight shining behind my eyelids. I hear commotion in the hallway, and my door flies open.
“B,” Landon says. “Wake up. I fucking knew it, and what the hell are we going to do?”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“River,” he says, and I feel it when my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, remembering he never called me last night.
“What about River?” I ask, grabbing my jeans and a T-shirt.
“They got him, B. He got caught.”
“Caught?” I ask. “Doing what?” I’m still half-asleep and trying to wrap my brain around what Landon is telling me.
“What do you think?”
“Landon, I really don’t know.” I really don’t. River never told me.
“What?” he asks, acting like it’s the craziest thing he has ever heard.
“I don’t know,” I repeat.
“He never told you?” he says as realization hits him.
“Not the details.”
“Come on. We have to go.” He walks out, and I change my pajamas for the jeans and T-shirt I’ve been holding.
***
“What did River get charged for?” Ellie asks.
“Drug trafficking,” I reply. “He got six years.”
“Wow,” she says, lifting her brow. “How did things go from there?”
“Things were okay at first. I went to see him as much as I was able to. We were positive about everything, but shit like that eventually takes a toll on a relationship and the people in it. I wasn’t a strong girl. I was weak from loving him and loving a drug—both were killing me.
***
I walk through the heavy gray doors, and my feet touch the white tile as I make my way up to the bulletproof glass. I speak into the silver vented hole and tell them I’m here to visit River Dawson. I’m given a pass, and after I’m searched, the men in tan uniforms escort me with several other people to the visitation room.
Round stools that are attached to metal tables are no longer empty as loved ones sit and talk to inmates. River sits in the far corner, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I feel relief when I see him, and I hate this so fucking much. I was so mad at him at first, but now I don’t have the energy to be because half of my heart is behind bars every night.
“Hey, B,” he says, standing up.
“Hey, baby,” I reply. I haven’t used today because I knew I would see him. I feel off and complete at the same time. He sits, and I do the same.
“You been okay?” he asks.
“No. You?”
He shrugs. “Could be worse.” He grins, and I wonder what could possibly be worth smiling about. I run an uneasy hand through my hair, and my eyes look around the room.
“This sucks,” I say. “I want to touch you.”
“Me, too.” His smile disappears.
Chapter Sixteen
Time doesn’t stand still as my boy sits in prison. He grows bigger because all there is to do is work out. His face fills out more as the months pass by, and he shifts from looking like a boy to a man. He turned twenty-two, and I’m getting closer to twenty-one. I’ve lost weight, and he points it out. It’s getting harder to see him and not feel him. Distance and prison make him harder, and I can tell he isn’t just changing on the outside. Each time I visit him, I see the war in his eyes, and he has mentioned me not coming anymore. I lash out like a needy child, and he apologizes, telling me he loves me. I make him promise not to say anything so stupid again.
He’s angry, and I’m clingy. I’m angry, and he’s clingy. Our conversations are forced, and there are always words we should say but don’t. We fight more and more, but love letters keep my hopes up because he writes from his soul. The sun rises and sets as the days pass. I’m more dependent on the pills than I have ever been. I hang out with new people and go to new parties with the same old habits. I’ve met a new drug dealer, and he keeps me well supplied.
I switch from job to job because nothing fits, and I can tell Frankie and Landon are worried about my well-being. My twenty-first birthday comes and goes, and I care less and less about everything around me. River grows more distant, and his letters tell me he wants me to move on. My habit covers me completely, and I can no longer remember who I was before everything went to shit. I’m only normal when I’m two pills in now. I’m breaking.
***
“That sounds like you were giving up,” Ellie says.
“I was depressed, and it only got worse.”
***
I’m floating. The air feels so good, and the lights look stretched. I breathe in hard and wince as the powder goes up my nose. Lying back against the sofa and waiting for the rush only cocaine can give me, I rub my face and look out past the porch railing. People surround me, but I’ve never felt more alone. I saw River today, and he looked at me strangely, like he couldn’t recognize me anymore. Apparently, someone in the prison does tattoos, and River’s arms are getting covered. On the outside that boy is starting to look like his attitude—badass and untouchable.
“You don’t look like yourself anymore,” he told me.
“I miss you is all,” I replied.
“You’re changing, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“I’m still the same,” I said.
“No, baby, you’re almost gone.” His face was devastatingly sad. “This is killing you. I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
“I can. I will,” I told him as I reached across the table and touched his hand. He gripped mine like he was trying to keep me from falling, but I knew all it would take was a strong wind and I’d be heading toward the floor.
Thick two-by-fours lined side by side make up the roof to the porch that people I don’t really know and I are under. It shields us from the rain, and the d
ank couch I’m sitting on smells like mold and dirt weed. Thinking about our conversation from earlier makes me tired, even though my heart is racing from the cocaine. I stand up and step off the porch. Rain only takes a minute to soak my clothes, but I keep walking and get into my car. I drive without feeling and make my way to the field River parked us in on a night I cooked for all three of my boys. I put the car in park and open my door. Stepping out, I look up to the sky. Heavy drops fall into my eyes, and I hold my arms out wide. My eyes close, and tears well up behind my lids. I look down and sink to my knees, clutching the ground below me, wondering how it all got so crazy.
***
It’s been almost a year now that River has been in prison, and I’m headed up for my weekly visit. I’m high, but I don’t care. I walk in like usual, but this time the guards direct me to the phone area. I’m confused, but I follow. I’m told to have a seat. I look around at the people sitting in booths just like I am, phone up to their ear, speaking to their clients or family members through a thick glass. River walks out in handcuffs, and I wonder what the hell is going on. I pick the phone up, and he sits down after they remove the cuffs. He looks at me, and I see a cut above his lip. He picks up the phone, and I wish I was holding on because a gust of wind was headed my way.
“What is going on?” I ask.
“Just some shit in here,” he says, looking hard and cold.
“What shit?” I look back at his cut lip.
“Don’t worry about it, B,” he tells me. “Look, Maddie.” He casts his eyes down, and I see the tips of his fingertips turn red from where he is gripping the phone so hard. He looks back up at me, and his face is passive, his emotions gone.
“I need you to move on, B. Don’t come back.” He’s done, and I break.
“What? River, you don’t mean that,” I reply, taking a breath and trying with everything in me to believe what I just said, because I know he is serious this time.
“I do. You need help, and you need to do better. You need to move on from me, from all of this,” he says, looking around. “I’m not the same anymore, Maddie, and you’re fading away.”
“River, stop,” I say.
“I’m serious, baby.”
“We love each other. That’s all that matters. We’ll figure everything else out.”
“No,” he says.
“You love me. You can’t turn your back on me. Say it, River. Tell me.”
“I can’t,” he says, looking away.
“You look at me,” I say. “You look at me and tell me.” His eyes go back to my face, and tears sting mine as my heart sinks.
“Not this time, B.”
“You don’t love me anymore?” I ask, heartbroken and leaning.
“No.” He’s lying, and I know it.
“Tell me then. Tell me you don’t love me.”
He lifts his chin and looks into my eyes. “Move on. It’s done.” He drops the phone and stands.
“I hate you!” I yell, slamming my palm onto the glass. He flinches. “I fucking hate you!” I scream. Tears cloud my vision, and River walks away. I panic and shake my head. “No!” I yell. “No, River, baby, please! I don’t hate you. This is all going to be okay.” I stand up and place my forehead to the glass, watching him leave me behind. “It’s going to be okay,” I repeat as the phone slips from my hand. The wind lifts me off the floor, and I’m falling. I’m broken.
Chapter Seventeen
My eyes leak tears, and my shoulders shake. I cry in front of Ellie, and she lets me. She doesn’t speak, and I don’t look at her. My hands cover my face as my heart remembers the pain. I take a deep breath and slide my hands down my neck. “I was gone after that. I was lost,” I say, sniffing and grabbing the tissue Ellie has in her hand for me. “I walked out on Landon and Frankie. Pills were the only thing I kept because I couldn’t function without them. But the sad thing is, I wasn’t functioning with them either. I was constantly fucked up, until the day Landon and Frankie found me. After that, I knew I had to change my life. I couldn’t be that person anymore. I was killing myself, and I almost did.”
“Breaking points make us realize how far we’ve gone down,” Ellie says.
“Yeah, well, I had reached mine for sure.”
“Have you spoken to anyone about this?”
“No, but Landon knew River was going to tell me to move on, and if I would have been paying better attention to my brother, I would have known something was up. He sat me down a few nights before I went to the prison, telling me I needed help. That Frankie and he were concerned, and maybe it would be a good idea for me to stop seeing River so much. I told him to mind his own business because I was a drugged-out selfish bitch. A few weeks before all of that, Cali and Landon had called it quits. I was a terrible friend to her during their breakup, but how was I to comfort her when I couldn’t even give myself a pep talk?”
“You were sick, and Cali being your friend, I’m sure she knew that,” Ellie says.
“Yeah, I guess,” I reply, sitting back on the couch and staring at her bookshelf. “Life is a story,” I say, thinking out loud. “Each person has their own beginning, middle, and end. Mine began with a happy family, a good life, and my dreams within reach. Unfortunately, it shifted dramatically, and I went down a long, dark path, but you know what?” I say, looking over at my therapist. “I wouldn’t have met my boys. I’m lucky I got two families in this lifetime. My story isn’t finished just yet, and you can bet your ass I’m going to make sure I have one hell of an ending.” I smile at her and take a breath because I feel like the weight is lifted, and I’m once again Maddie B. Callaway. I found my old self, and I like her. Yes, I’m a drug addict, but I’m also a daughter, a sister, and the other part of someone’s heart. I know River loves me because what we have doesn’t go away, but I have to start living again, and if it’s without him, then that’s just the way it has to be.
Chapter Eighteen
RIVER DAWSON
The constant beeping from the alarm beside my bed wakes me up, and I slap my hand over it to make it shut up. Baby groans, and I sit up and throw my feet over the side of the bed. Running my hands through my hair, I look back at her. The sheet is only covering her legs, leaving her hip and back exposed. She rolls over, showing me everything she has, and my already hard dick jumps. Fucking morning wood and B. I stand up, adjust myself, and grab a white T-shirt, boxers, and some jeans. I slip into the bathroom and turn the shower on and brush my teeth while the water in this piece of shit place warms. I run a hand down my face and feel that I need to shave. I’m working constantly, and it’s taking a toll on B and me. I can’t keep my eye on her like I need to, and I know she is slipping again. Drugs and I are her weaknesses, and I wish I could get rid of one of them.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step out of the bathroom and walk to the kitchen. I grab a soft pack from the counter and slip one out with my teeth. Holding it between my lips, I look at my phone and see Swift has sent me a text.
Big run tonight, boy. Be prepared for a long one.
I toss the phone onto the counter and light my smoke as I make my way to my room to get dressed.
***
I slide my wallet into my back pocket and look over at B.
“I’ll be home late tonight,” I tell her.
“You’re always home late.” She’s sleepy-eyed and pretty as ever. I lean back against the counter and look at her. Sweet love wears nothing but my T-shirt, and I know she smells like me and her mix, which makes me want to say fuck work.
“You want me to stay?” I ask, just because I want to hear her say it.
“Of course, I do,” she says, wrapping her hair up. Her neck is exposed now, and I walk over to the couch and sit down at the far end.
“Come here,” I command. My shirt rides up when she moves, revealing her panties. B grabs my thighs when she crawls onto my lap. Her face goes to my neck, and I feel her soft lips against my skin. I love this girl more than life, and I show her when I lean my f
ace down and kiss her. I lift her up so she is straddling me and run my hand down to her panties.
“Tell me,” she says.
“I love you.” I smile.
“Do we have time?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say, sliding the lace to the side. She sighs when I sink in and moans when I curl my fingers. She grips on to cotton, and I move my thumb, rubbing against her until her thighs want to close. She bites down on my shoulder as she comes. I undo my belt and unzip my pants.
“Lift up, B.” She does, and then she sinks. I grasp her hips and guide her down until I’m all the way in. She’s only high on me when we are like this, and I lean back on the couch and let my eyes roam over every part of her. Her makeup-free face, her messy hair, and her slightly open mouth as little sweet breaths sneak out. The creases of skin between her thigh and waist as she takes me all the way. She grabs her breasts, and I run my hand across her waist and snake it up her back until I reach her shoulder. I press down and lift up with my hips, hitting her in the spot that drives her crazy.
Close To Falling Page 12
