“Are you crazy? He could die!” I shout, reaching for the phone.
She holds it away from me. “He probably just got a hold of some pure. Chill the fuck out.” She places a thumb on his chin, tugging his mouth open before lifting his eyelids. “He’ll be fine.”
“How do you know that?”
“This ain’t the first time he’s pulled this shit.”
Oh my God.
She unties the shoestring wrapped around his bicep, carefully removing the syringe from his hand. “Give it to me,” she says, getting to her feet.
“Give you what?”
“Sylvie, I’ll get rid of it, just give it to me.”
Does she think I am stupid?
That I am some dumb ass little girl who doesn’t have a clue what is going on here?
“Absolutely not,” I say, tossing the cellophane into the toilet and quickly pulling down the handle.
“You stupid bitch, why did you do that?” she shrieks, her hand diving into the bowl after it.
“Because you need help. Both of you do. Give me the damn phone now, Dani.”
She jerks her hand from the toilet, slinging droplets of water on my face. “We’re not calling a goddamn ambulance. He’s fine! I should kick your ass for doing that. Do you realize that was over three hundred dollars worth of shit you just flushed down the toilet?”
“I don’t give a damn how much it was. You’re destroying him. He’s sick and all you care about is getting high. He wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you.”
“Me? Wake up, Sylvie! Who do you think made me this way?”
I blink several times. Dean loves his sister, went out of his way to protect her, how could he have introduced her to this poison? Taking in her gaunt appearance, I frown. “Dani, we can get you help. I…”
She collects a deep breath before sliding Dean’s phone in her back pocket. “Just forget it.Helpme get him to bed.”
Grabbing one arm, she lifts him to sit up and he groans, his eyes fluttering open. Anger swiftly replaces my concern. His eyes attempt to focus but they are too glassy and heavy and eventually fall shut again.
We finally manage to get him into the guest bedroom. After Dani removes his shoes and pulls the blanket up over his chest, she pulls his phone from her back pocket and hands it back to me.
“It’ll be hours before he wakes up and he’ll probably be pissed when he finds out you flushed his shit.”
“I really don’t care how pissed he is.”
She moves to leave the room and I wrap my arms around my middle, attempting to alleviate the nausea but it is useless. The front door slamming informs me that she isn’t sticking around to witness the aftermath.
