“Jude?” His voice is thick with sleep. “You good, man?”
No.
Not even close.
I don’t answer. I can’t. My hands are shaking as I drop to my knees beside the coffee table, yanking the black case frombeneath it. My breath comes in sharp, ragged bursts. I flip the latches open with fingers that barely cooperate.
Micah rubs at his eyes, sitting up straighter. “Hey, what happened? Why do you look—”
But the sight of the kit hits me like oxygen, and everything else drowns out.
My body reacts before my mind does.
Syringe. Lighter. Heroin.
I’m moving too fast, too desperate, but the ritual steadies me anyway. My pulse slows just from the promise of it. My brain quiets a fraction. It’s sick how the relief comes before the high ever does.
Micah’s on his feet now, worry carved deep into his face. “Dude...talk to me. You’re freaking me out.”
I ignore him. The world narrows, funnels down to a single point: the needle. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I shake out the powder, add water, and flick the lighter. The smell hisses up. My whole body leans toward it.
I’m desperate. It hurts.
“Jude,” Micah tries again, softer now. “Hey. Hey—slow down.”
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.
The burn blooms in the spoon. My breath stutters. Sweat slicks the back of my neck. I draw it up, fighting the tremor in my hands.
Micah steps closer. “Don’t—just...don’t do this right now. You’re not okay.”
“Back off,” I rasp. It barely qualifies as a voice.
He freezes.
I slide the elastic band around my arm. My skin is cold and damp. The vein rises. I grit my teeth and press the needle to it. And then—
The moment it pierces.
The moment I push the plunger...everything detonates.
Warmth floods my bloodstream like molten honey, slow and perfect, spreading through my chest, my ribs, my jaw. My muscles unlock all at once. My lungs expand with the first real breath I’ve taken all night. My head drops back against the couch with a dull thud.
Oh god.
Oh, fuck.
Yes.
The world softens. The panic dissolves. The burning under my skin snuffs out. I melt into the cushions, like I’m becoming part of them.
Micah just stands there, staring. Helpless.
The front door slams.
