Page 74 of The Addict

I could feel my body spasming, the muscles radiating tight little “fuck yous” up my arms and legs. “I have to get out of this house. I’ll be right back.”

“Where, Noah?”

“Mind your own business,” I snapped, growing increasingly irate at the ticking of the large clock hanging in the living area above us. “It’s too fucking hot in this damn house.”

No more time.

Tick, tick, tick.

Damian stepped in front of me, his eyes dangerously glinting. “You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered calmly.

I took hold of Damian’s shoulders and yanked him forward, desperate to make him understand. “Do you not s-see what k-kind of state I’m in?” I couldn’t see anything anymore. Only the door. The door was the goal. Behind it was the glory. Open. Open the door. “I have to get something, Damian. You threw it all away.”

Get out.

“What happened to quitting?” Damian asked, his tone hard as stone.

“Easier said than done. Move.”

Damian shook his head, refusing. “I can’t let you, Noah. You’re delusional and upset. I can’t let you go to buy more drugs.”

Fucking move him out of the way yourself.

I punched him in the chest and plowed passed him to the door. I had the handle in my grasp when I was seized from behind by a set of arms, which embraced me tightly in a bear hug.

I cocked my head back to see Damian wheezing and clutching his chest. The man holding me down was someone I trusted with my life. His blond streaks were a dead giveaway, though his steady smile that was usually fixed on his face was gone.

“Alex!” I screamed. “Get off of me! What are you doing?”

I was pushed down to my knees, my already limited strength dwindling from the power and force Alex was using to keep me down.

I looked from Damian to the man I thought was my best friend.

“You son of a bitch,” I spat out. “Why the fuck are you here, huh?”

I already knew the answer.

My so-called best friend did not meet my eyes, guilt filling his voice and expression. “It’s for your own good, Noah.”

“Fuck that! How many times do I tell you people?”

I’m not a child.

“I can take care of myself!” I thrashed but it was futile.

Let me go.

My hands shook without my consent, the absence of chemicals causing my whole body to tremble. I was being attacked from the inside out. My body desired its fill, and I couldn’t provide it.

“LOOK AT ME!” I screamed.

Drugs can fix this. Just a little is all you need to feel better.

“I can fix this.”

“What are you doing to yourself?”

The drugs were always meant to be a simple repair, not permanent. Meant to hold me over until the next fix.