The young man.
Freddie was really here?
“Shh,” she said and the ice in my veins increased. “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”
But—Freddie was here? He’d really come to get me?
Then the white static came.
CHAPTER 20
FREDDIE
Mornings at Pinetree started the same way. A nurse opened the door, flicked back the curtains, then handed me two pills. I had to swallow them with a sip of water while she observed, then I had to stick out my tongue so she could see they were gone.
With a nod, she pivoted and left the room, letting the door half-close behind her. They weren’t allowed to be completely closed unless it was bedtime or movements had been restricted. I’d already done twenty-four hours in this box under the influence. I gave it a minute for her to go into the next room before I slid out of the bed.
The bathroom didn’t have a door on it. I guess I was lucky it was a bathroom. As high-end as this place was—and it was high-end, it didn’t even stink—it was still a facility for whackjobs and troublemakers. I could make the argument it was a place I belonged, but definitely not Boo-Boo.
Soon as I had my dick out and pissing, I coughed into my free hand. Cupping it like a fist, I caught both pills in my palm. Everyone had skills. That just happened to be one of mine. Head back, I stared at the ceiling while I emptied my bladder. The pill regimen was to “quiet” my nerves.
Yeah, I got it. They wanted me calm. Punching a therapist would do that. Whatever. I needed to stay as clean as fucking possible. Especially while Emersyn was so completely fucking wasted. I couldn’t figure out the wheelchair when they first brought her in.
I got it now.
There was no way she could walk completely plastered on whatever fucking cocktail they were feeding her. I’d done an eight ball and not been that wasted. Then again, if they were pumping her full of sedatives to keep her calm, it wouldn’t surprise me.
I dropped the pills into the toilet as I flushed and then turned to take a seat. One thing that worked in my favor. If I was taking a crap, they weren’t coming to look in the toilet bowl.
If it wasn’t broke, don’t fix it. They still hadn’t let me have any of my things, not that I cared. I didn’t want to hole up in the room. Unlike a lot of the patients, they didn’t leave Emersyn alone for long when they brought her to the community room.
I needed every minute I could get with her. Especially when she couldn’t even focus on the fact I was right fucking there. She was on more than pills. No one got that checked out on just a couple of tablets—unless they were risking overdosing her.
The fog in her eyes, the distance—the fact she stared right through me—yeah, I wasn’t gonna take it personal. I mean, I would. But I was gonna take it out personally on every single fucker in this place. Even the nurse who made nicey nice with her. The woman looked like a grandmother.
Grandmothers could be sacks of shit. It was sexist to think it was only dirty old men.
“Breakfast,” a new nurse said as she pushed my door inward. No one would mistake this chick for a grandmother. I’d be shocked if she was older than me. “Let’s go, I don’t have all day.”
Oh, now I was just gonna go slower. I stretched. The bed here sucked. If they spent any of their exorbitant fees on the furniture, they were getting ripped. Then again, they had plastic chairs in the community room and the television in there wouldn’t know HD if it walked up to it and bit it in the ass.
The nurse stuck her head back in. “Are you coming? Or do I need to call Broderick?”
“Who pissed in your Wheaties, Powder Puff?” Cause she looked like one of those anime characters with her stringy red hair all pulled up and done in a wild array of braids. The heavy eyeliner would look better on a raccoon. Then again… “Did you get a little tickle and poke that didn’t quite hit the spot this morning? Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”
Her gaze went positively glacial. Man, it was too fucking easy. Poke. Poke. Poke.
“If you want, I can give your guy a few pointers. Or your girl. I mean, free world and all that.”
Nostrils flaring, she took a step toward me and her hand clenched, but Broderick stuck his big ugly ass ox head in.
“Problem?”
“Nah,” I said. “Nurse Mindy here is hitting on me and I get that I’m a catch, you know, who wouldn’t want a piece of this? Am I right? But it’s all kinds of inappropriate.”
“You son of a—”
“Amber,” a woman said sharply behind her and I met Amber’s heated gaze with a smile.
“Oops, sorry, didn’t realize it was a secret.”
Broderick just scowled. “Stop playing around and let’s go. Or you can just go hungry, Mr. Cleary.”
“Well, we haven’t tried that yet,” I said. “First time for everything.” But I shuffled along like the cooperative, stoned patient I was supposed to be. Communal meals were held in a little dining room, not all the patients were here.
Boo-Boo never had meals with us.
She wasn’t the only one I saw in the community room and not at meals. There was an older guy named Chester. He had arthritic hands and rheumy eyes. I was pretty sure he wasn’t even in the same year as we were, but he wasn’t so bad. His favorite topics of conversation involved the Donny and Marie Show. No idea who they were, but he really liked them.
Breakfast turned out to be oatmeal. Looked more like slop, but whatever. I ate it. I just ate it all slow and shit cause, you know, stoned.
The other person who came into the community room that was never at meals was a woman who had to be like Ms. Stephanie’s age. Maybe a little younger. She didn’t talk to anyone. She just wandered in circles. Sometimes, she put herself in the corner and talked to the wall.
Been there, sister. Totally.
After food, it was time for group.
Let me tell you how much I enjoyed the fuck out of group. Eight people were present in my group. Two of them were considered semi-violent. They were my favorites. Julius had a habit of lashing out, so he had to attend in a straight jacket. An orderly was always with him, too. His buddy, Bodhi. First, Bodhi had a cool damn name. Second, Bodhi was certifiable.
When it was his turn to talk, he liked to tell everyone how he was going to kill them. Sometimes going into explicit details. Our therapist—Marc what a putz—tried to keep him focused, but that just made Bodhi start over at the beginning. I’d been in this group three days and I figured it out day one, just let the man get his rocks off and move the fuck on.
“You,” Bodhi said, focusing on me.
“Me,” I agreed. “Tell me how you’re gonna do it. Give me something cool, not something cheap like drowning me in a toilet or sticking a wire through my eye and into my brain. No, wait, it was up the nose and then swirling it around like that thing they used to do to mummies. Saw it in a movie once.” I tapped the side of my head. “But I want something original.”
Bodhi stared at me for a long moment. “Not gonna kill you.” Then he sat back in his chair.
Well, damn, and here I’d been hoping for the good shit. What a fucking bummer.
“Mr. Cleary,” the therapist said. “Since Mr. Bodhi has decided against engaging you, maybe you’d like to take your turn.”