Completely Consumed (Addicted To You, Book Eight) Page 3

  The knocking on my door got more insistent. For some reason, I thought that maybe the agents had come back again. Maybe they’d decided it was time to arrest me this time.

  But when I opened the door, it was the last person I’d expected to see who was standing there.

  “Gilbert, what the fuck?” I said, staring at my smiling friend, who looked pretty amused by my confusion.

  He laughed and gave me a big hug. Then he slapped me on the shoulder and went past me into the apartment. “Didn’t expect to see me, huh?”

  I turned and followed him. “You look…”

  He gave me an amused glance. “Like I took a shower in the last month?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s because I did. I’m clean, brother.” He turned around again and smiled.

  “I’m really clean. Been sober since the night you found me in that crack house.”

  I wanted to believe him, but it was difficult. Gilbert had lied to me so many times over the last few years. Still, I had to admit he looked different. His eyes were bright and his skin didn’t have that pale, yellowish tint anymore. His hair was styled, he’d shaven, his jeans were clean and unwrinkled—he was even wearing a nice button down shirt that didn’t have a stain on it.

  “You look good,” I said, still surprised. “Why so dressed up?”

  “I had an interview this morning over at CVS. They’re going to hire me.”

  “Even with your record?”

  “Someone from the shelter put in a good word.” He crossed his arms and locked eyes with me. “What’s wrong with you anyway?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re not even happy that I’m alive and getting healthy. You look like someone just knocked you upside the head with a baseball bat.” He walked closer and grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me. “Wake up, JB. Wake the fuck up.”

  I pushed him away. “Get the fuck off me, Gil.”

  “What? What are you going to do about it, tough guy?” he laughed, grabbing my shoulders again.

  “Gil, I’m fucking serious. I’m not in the mood.” I grabbed his arms and tried to force him away from me.

  He ducked under and grabbed me by the waist, hoisting me in the air. “Not in the mood, huh? You freaking baby!” he yelled, hysterically laughing. “Now what are you going to do, huh JB?”

  I pushed myself off him and he let me go. I stumbled backwards, my face red with anger. “I should knock your teeth out,” I said, my fists clenched.

  Gilbert’s laughter faded, along with his smile. “Dude, you’re seriously mad right now?”

  “You can’t just walk in here and act like everything’s cool, Gil. You’ve been sick for years. Years. You’ve messed with my head too many times.”

  His smile went away. “Don’t get like that with me, JB. I don’t owe you anything, man. I’ve been sick, okay? Do you yell at someone who’s got cancer for messing with your head?”

  “You don’t have fucking cancer, though. You’re a junkie.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. Gil nodded his head once, turned on his heel and walked away from me. I stood there, feeling stupid, but angry and embarrassed too. It was a bad combination. Part of me wanted to apologize, but the other part of me wanted to justify what I’d said.

  I thought about all the times I’d been scared he would die on me, all of the times I tried to talk sense to him, risked my own safety to try and help him.

  Meanwhile, he was leaving. The door to the apartment opened and slammed shut as he exited.

  I stood there, my thoughts racing. I didn’t want to be the one to say I was wrong, but it occurred to me that this was exactly the kind of confrontation that might make him fall off the wagon again.

  Did I really want to be responsible for Gil getting fucked up again?

  The answer was obvious, and I bolted out of the apartment after him, catching him just as he went outside.

  “Gil!” I yelled, but he ignored me and kept walking.

  I left the building after him, and finally got him to stop and turn around. When he looked at me, he had tears in his eyes. “Junkie? Is that what I am to you? A fucking junkie?” he yelled.

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Fuck you.” He tried to turn away, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Gil, I’m sorry, dude.”

  He glared at me, and then the unshed tears finally let loose and ran down his cheeks. I had never felt so low in my life as I did right at that moment.

  “It’s a disease, asshole,” he said, choking on his words.

  “I know. I know.”

  He wiped his sleeve across his eyes. “Look, I know I’m a piece of shit. Do you think I need you telling me? You think I didn’t know it already?”

  “You’re not a piece of shit. You’re my best friend.”

  “What does that say about you? A junkie is your best friend?”

  I had to smile a little at that. “I said I was sorry. I got mad. I’m having a bad time, too. The fucking FBI came to my apartment and threatened me a few minutes ago.

  You’re not the only one with big problems.”

  Gil’s eyes widened and his expression turned from anger to concern in an instant.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, and in the second, it hit me hard as well. The FBI. The Federal Bureau of Investigations was making me a target. The government was involved and they would screw me good. My life could be over before it even started.

  “What happened?” he said. “Tell me everything.”

  “Let’s walk,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I need some air.”

  “Let’s go down the bridge,” he said. “You know the one?”

  I laughed, thinking how I’d looked to see if he was sleeping under it not that long ago. Of course, Gil was blissfully unaware of that fact. “Yeah, I remember that bridge.”

  “It’s not too far from here and the ocean breeze will do you good,” he said confidently.

  “Is it really a smart idea to go back to that place? Didn’t you used to get high there and everything?”

  “That’s even better. I need to remember how low I can fall if I fuck up again.”

  So we started walking toward the bridge, and I told him everything, from the beginning. How I quit my old gym and started the new one. Quarry. The Slaughterhouse. The drugs and constant pressure to use them and fight every day. My shitty contract with the UFF.

  It felt good to tell it all to someone who I knew I could trust, someone who wouldn’t judge me—someone who knew me.

  And it felt even better to have my best friend back in his right state of mind. I’d always been able to go to Gil for advice. He was like my older brother, I looked up to him. And now that he was finally healthy, I could go to him again.

  By the time we arrived at the bridge, I was finishing the story. I left out the part about Lindsay, because bringing girl problems into it was only going to further complicate things. But I did tell him what the agents had said to me about possible jail time and the destruction of my life and reputation.

  Finally, we walked down under the bridge. Gilbert was quiet, looking at the dirty cardboard, empty bottles and cans, even a few old syringes littering the area. He shook his head, his eyes squinting with some sort of discomfort.

  “Can you believe what I used to do? That I used to sleep under here, pissing myself, shooting up, not caring if I lived or died?”

  I watched him, wondering what he was feeling. He seemed to think it had been years and years since he’d done such things, but the reality was that it hadn’t even been a month.

  Still, he looked good. He sounded good. He sounded right. I wasn’t going to question it. Not now, at least.

  “I figured some day I might find you lying here, dead,” I told him.

  He glanced at me. “It makes me sick to hear you say that.”

  “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
>
  “No, no.” He inhaled deeply. “I need to hear it. I need to keep reminding myself where I could end up if I’m not careful.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Gil. So proud—you have no idea.”

  He smiled, quickly. “So, enough about me,” he said, turning and facing me. “We need to figure out what you’re doing to do next.”

  “That’s what I was trying to figure out.”

  “Do you want one junkie’s stupid opinion?”

  “Don’t say that, man.”

  He laughed. “I’m serious. You want my opinion or not?”

  “Of course I want your opinion.”

  His expression grew intense, his smile faded. “You have to work with the Feds.

  You have to do it.”

  I stared at him, shocked. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Well, then you’re going to have to get really good at staring at walls, because when they’re done with you—you’ll be spending a lot of days in a cell, JB.”

  My insides went cold. “That’s encouraging.”

  “I’ve been in the system. I know how it works and I know what these people can do if they want to make an example of you. Don’t fight them,” Gil said. He’d never sounded so sober as he did right then. “This isn’t the time to fight, JB. This is the time to surrender.”

  LINDSAY

  I felt better as soon as I arrived outside the science office. Right when I got there, Carter ushered me inside and then shut the door behind us.

  “Wow,” I said. “Are we doing something covert?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, and pointed over to the desk in the front part of the office where the secretary usually sat. “That doesn’t seem very covert to me.”

  Today, the secretary wasn’t there. But on her desk was the most ostentatious arrangement of flowers I’d ever seen. Pink and red carnations clashed together in a big bunch, interspersed with baby’s breath and yellow tulips. There was a teddy bear perched on one side of the basket. He was holding a red heart that said “ I LIKE YOU

  BEARY MUCH!” A helium balloon was tied to one of his arms and it bobbed against the ceiling cheerfully.

  I looked back at Carter. He had his eyebrows raised at me expectantly. He hadn’t… Oh my God. Had Carter gotten me flowers? Wow. This was going to be really, really awkward.

  “Wow,” I said. “Um, those are… those are really nice flowers.” They weren’t nice flowers at all. But obviously I couldn’t say that.

  “Yeah?” he said. “You like those, huh?” He sounded a little bit angry. Which was kind of weird. Why would he be angry about getting me flowers? I spotted a white card sticking out of the arrangement. Maybe he was waiting for me to read it. I reached over, plucked it off the plastic pitchfork that was holding it up and opened it.

  JUST SOMETHING TO BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY,

  HOPE YOU DON’T MIND THIS IS HOW I’M SAYING HEY!

  Was that supposed to be a poem? It was awful. My hands were shaking as I turned the card over.

  LOVE, ADAM!

  The breath I was holding flew out of me in one big whoosh. The flowers weren’t from Carter. But the relief I felt at that fact was short-lived. They were from Adam.

  Shit. Just when me and Rachel had made up, he had to go and pull something like this.

  “Wow,” I said as I slid the card back into the envelope. “Did you read the card?”

  “No, I didn’t read the card.”

  I held it out to him, and watched as Carter’s eyes scanned over the words. “That is horrible,” he said. “Whoever sent that should be ashamed of themselves.”

  “Yeah, well, the person who sent that should be ashamed of themselves for a lot more than a bad poem.”

  “Like what?” Carter asked.

  “Like sleeping with my roommate and then sending me flowers.”

  “Wait.” Carter shook his head. “So these aren’t from the guy you were telling me about?”

  “Justin?” I shook my head. “No.” I tried to imagine Justin walking into a flower shop or looking online and picking out the ridiculous bear that was sitting in front of me.

  “These are from Adam.”

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah, he’s this guy I met at orientation. I guess we’re friends, I don’t know.

  Anyway, he slept with my roommate. Like, last night.”

  I turned around to look at Carter, expecting to see a look of incredulousness at the drama that was my life. But he didn’t look incredulous. He just looked exasperated.

  “Listen, Lindsay, you can’t have be having shit like this sent here.”

  I frowned. “But I didn’t have it sent here. He just – ”

  “If you’re going to have your personal life interfering with your work, then it’s probably not the best idea that you work here.”

  “What?” I shook my head, confused.

  What had happened to the Carter from this weekend? The one who sat in a coffee ship with me and told me to loosen up?

  “I thought you were just telling me that I needed to relax,” I smiled, trying to lighten the tension a little.

  “Yeah, relax, not start bringing drama into the science office.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Can you imagine what would have happened if Dr. Klaxton had been here when this arrived? It’s totally unprofessional. It would have looked bad for you, and it would have reflected badly on me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” He gestured to the bouquet of flowers. “Now please get that ridiculousness out of here.”

  I picked it up and left the office without saying a word. And then I was forced to walk out of the science building holding that huge, embarrassingly stupid flower arrangement. Five different people laughed as I went by, including some very bitchy sorority girls. When I got outside, I almost tripped walking down the stairs because it was so hard to see in front of me.

  When I finally got to the bottom of the steps, I untied the balloon from the basket and watched as it floated up toward the sky. I dropped the flowers into a trashcan.

  And then I burst into tears.

  ***

  I was still crying when I got back to my room. Rachel wasn’t there, which was a good thing. I didn’t know if I should tell her about what Adam had done. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he do something like that? Part of me wanted to call him and tell him off. But I knew that would just make things worse. So instead, I called my mom.

  But she didn’t answer.

  I threw myself down on my bed and sent Justin another text.

  Had a horrible morning. Need you. Where r u?

  I closed my eyes, not expecting to get a response.

  But a second later, my phone beeped.

  With Gil but leaving now. On my way to see u.

  Relief flooded through me. He was coming here. I’d told him that I needed him, and he was coming to me.

  Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called morosely.

  He walked in, then immediately kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed with me. He enveloped me in his arms, and pulled me close.

  I started to cry again.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed. He stroked my hair softly. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

  He kissed my forehead, then my eyelashes, then my nose and then, finally, his lips were on mine. It was like an explosion. I’d forgotten how amazing it was to kiss him, how my body got set on fire as soon as he touched me. The kiss was familiar and gentle and comforting. I forgot about everything that had happened and just let myself get lost in him.

  He pulled back and traced a finger over my chin. The way he was looking at me sent a shiver through my body. “God, I missed you,” he breathed.

  “You just saw me this morning.”

  “That was too long.” He ran his fingertips lightly over my arms and kissed my nose again.
“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “I had a bad day,” I said. “I failed a test. I got yelled at by Carter.”

  “Carter?” His body stiffened. “The research assistant guy? He yelled at you?”

  He went to sit up, like he was going to get out of bed and go find Carter.

  “No, no,” I pulled him back down. “It wasn’t his fault. And besides, he didn’t really yell at me. It was more like a scolding.”

  “I don’t want anyone scolding you.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “Please.”

  “It is a big deal. No one should be talking to you like that.” His eyes burned as he gazed at me. He was looking at me like I was special and like he needed to protect me from anyone who didn’t realize it. No one had ever looked at me like that before, and the emotion that welled up inside of me was indescribable. I pushed my body into his, wanting to just forget about everything that had happened today and lose myself in his touch, his lips, his kiss, his body.

  I ran my hands up under the front of his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach, the hardness of his chest. His body was so beautiful it took my breath away.

  We kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed until I was so turned on I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Everything about him was sexy. The way his fingers tangled in my hair while he kissed me, the way he’d pull back every few minutes to just look at me or whisper my name, the way my skin burst into flames wherever he touched me.

  He wasn’t trying to take what we were doing any further, but I wanted him to. I needed him to. I needed to get lost in what we were doing, to forget about everything except for us. I pushed my hips against his, feeling his hardness against me.

  Then I rolled over until I was on top, straddling him. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down to his mouth, kissing me hard, his tongue and lips dancing with mine. His hands slid up under the front of my shirt, and his fingers slid my bra down over my breasts. I moaned and tilted my head back. He sat up then, and pulled me toward him, his mouth tracing a searing trail down over my neck.

  “I want you,” I whispered into his ear. “I want you so bad.” I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the ground, then kissed him again. It was like my mouth couldn’t stand to be away from his, couldn’t stand not to be connected to him. If he wouldn’t let me in emotionally, then at least I could connect to him this way, physically. There was an ache pulsing between my legs, and I pushed myself up against him. I could feel how hard he was and I started to grind against him.