Addicted In Cold Blood (30 page)

Xzion bit his lip and deliberated on what to do. He huffed, still looking at the ground, yet moved his hand toward her and ran his fingertips along hers, then, took hold with a slight squeeze. She glanced down at him, her big beautiful dark brown eyes moist. She smiled a sad, cracked smile, worn with worry and regret.

Now, he felt indignity...

“He couldn’t take it anymore. He told my parents he was gay once again—this time, not backing down. They kicked him out. I was a teenager,  still living at home and my best friend was gone. He had to live on the streets. He jumped from friend to friend’s house, and before long, he was into cocaine. He had an expensive raging habit that turned him into a monster. He got thin—muscular, but thin. He’d lost thirty pounds and looked like a skeleton the next time I saw him. He was angry, filled with hatred. He called our parents all sorts of names. He had been attacked trying to make it, trying to live. He wouldn’t even tell me what happened to him out on those streets. As close as we were, he shut me out. I knew that whatever it was, it was pretty bad. My brother was a strong man,” she shot an angry glance down at Xzion, “he wasn’t weak or easily swayed. He was just trying to escape the hell he was in, didn’t mean he was a bad person.”

“No, it didn’t,” someone said from the crowd.

“He taught me how to read. I knew how to read as soon as I started kindergarten because of him. He read to me every night. Stood up for me. I regret that I had never stood up for him as a kid. I believed what my parents told me, like most kids do. He was five years older than me, my hero, and even with all of that, I had turned my back on him, and maybe if I hadn’t,” she sobbed now, her fist on her forehead, her body shaking, “...maybe if I hadn’t, this would have never happened.”

“You know better than that.” Mrs. Coleman’s voice burst through the tranquility, her warm smile stonewashed with wrought-iron truth. “An addict will do what they think they need to do to make the hurt stop. You were not the one that rejected him, your parents did, but even they are not responsible anymore. He is a grown man making these decisions. You have to take your power back. What is your relationship with him like now?”

“It’s good, but...I can’t see him when he is strung out. I just can’t be around him like that.” Her voice was strong, but the tears still streamed, as if they were coming down someone else’s face. Xzion squeezed her hand again.

I’m sorry, baby...

“You seem like you might have some influence over him. I assume you’ve asked him to get clean?” one of the people asked.

Jayme nodded. “Countless times. He always says he will when he is ready. Then, sometimes he says yeah, he is going to...but he never does. He is an amazing person. All of his potential is going down the drain. I know he can’t change for me though. He has to change for himself  because he knows he is worth it. I just want him to know that he is worth it. He deserves to be happy.” She paused, deliberating over her words.

“Thanks for letting me speak. Thank you for letting me hear some of your stories. It helps. Some of the things he is too proud to admit to me, I know, in a way, you spoke for him.” Jayme sat back down, staring into space as others stood and spoke. Occasionally she’d smile and nod, but her pain was still at the surface.

Low was the ground, but Xzion felt as if it were the sky, because he was so low, so very low to the bottom of the world, that the only way out of it was up. He’d never felt so bad about himself,
ever.
He’d looked into the eyes of these people, in the eyes of the woman that he loved, and he saw the hurt he caused her by his calloused, careless words.

He was no longer competing with the sun for her attention—he was competing with the wickedness within him. For instance, he still didn’t feel bad about the murders, and that was a daily struggle. Anything that had clearly defined purpose to save lives, he slept just fine at night about it, but
this
was different. He had no idea how much he hated the users as well, for making his life harder, forcing him to come from home and work their evil land, trying to make their minds right for plucking. But...if it were not for the addicts, he’d never have met Jayme, so in a way, he owed that old homeless woman fifty dollars and more. It was money well spent, but no amount of money could fix the damage he’d caused.

****

Xzion watched the sun rise, alone. He turned his naked body away from the guest bedroom window and slumped down onto the air mattress, his dog tags clinked together as a static buzz came from several computer screens. One showed various reports spiraling across, running green codes in fast motion. Another flashed black and white images, a collage of faces for him to memorize. Then, he glanced at the double cameras focused on his master suite. He scooted closer to the screens, squinting in the darkness as he rubbed his weary eyes. There she was, locked away like an animal.

She didn’t venture out into the hall that evening as she customarily did; she simply stayed inside. Her hair caressed her shoulders above the sheets that covered her smooth body. Her toes peeked out from under the cover. She stretched them, while looking aimlessly toward the window. The car ride home had been long and depressing. They held hands, but no words were exchanged. She didn’t cry once she said goodbye to the group of people. It was almost as if it had never happened—only her silence proved that it in fact had.

Xzion continued to struggle. His logic told him that he was correct in everything he said. His heart told him to shut up.

Heart...

Right, huh? Being right is more important than anything else? The truth, as I know it, has to be her truth, too...because… I...love her. Should she just adopt my views and rise above her ineptness as a human being? How can I love her for her, if I think I’m better than her, in every way possible?

You’re not better than her... she is better than you...never forget that.

He casually glanced back at the camera and did a double take.

“What the?!”

He leaned in, his nose almost touching the screen. His right eye zoomed in, a red beam tracing her form. She stood in front of one of the cameras, looking into it, her eyes glassy, sad...

A smile budded then, breaking the melancholy. He’d seen her naked before. She’d taken to changing in the bedroom, teasing him, toying with him, but she always did it quickly and never made eye contact with him—as if it weren’t intentional. This time, there was no question that it was deliberate. He immediately punched the speaker button.

“Hey Jayme, what are you doing? Are you not feeling well? Do you want something?”

Don’t play with me tonight.Goddamn you.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she stood a bit back from the camera vantage lens, allowing her full form to be seen. He watched as the sheet dropped from her body. He punched a button, causing the room to be bathed in soft, white light. She raised her arm to blanket her eyes from the sudden glow. He studied her slowly, from her neck, all the way down to her feet. He’d never seen her so clearly before. Each dip and curve of her tall, slender body made his groin throb. He put the light on a lower setting, allowing her to relax.

“Do you want something?” he repeated over the intercom, clearing his throat, trying to remove the neediness from his voice. Again, she didn’t respond. He watched her turn away from the camera and return to the bed.

Jayme, I don’t know what’s going on here. What the hell are you doing?

He looked away, shook his head and glanced back up at the running reports. None of the samples came back right. Aton sent new formulas for him to try; he’d work on them later. He sighed and turned back to the camera.

“Holy shit!” he yelled.

Jayme lay sprawled across the bed, her thighs wide open. He zoomed in on her pussy, licking his lips hungrily and grazing the screen with his fingertips.

“Jayme, stop it. Don’t play games with me. We both have had a rough night. Put some damn clothes on,” he said through the speaker, trying to not squeak out the words.

Liar!

But it was the right thing to say.
You don’t want to do this; you’re just feeling bad tonight.
“Come in here,” she invited softly.

It took a while for that to sink in, then almost tripped over himself to rush to the door. But just then, courage failed him. He took a deep breath and walked back to the camera intercom.

“For what?”

She’d been testing his patience all night, and now, she was going in for the kill. He’d even contemplated letting her go, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was doing things to him, making him feel certain ways, and he felt himself drowning inside of her warmth. She was bad for him, but he couldn’t imagine his days without her.

“I know what this is about. It won’t work. I’m turning off the cameras.” And he did just that.

He scooted back from the black screens and lay back on the mattress, propping his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. But all he saw was her naked body again, and again and again, until he felt like bursting. Muttering curses under his breath, he got back up and stared at the blank screens. She would have seen the light stop on the camera, alerting her that, for once, the damned thing wasn’t focused on her. He wondered if she’d fallen asleep, what she was doing...

Then he decided to turn it back on, this time in stealth mode, and realized she wasn’t there.

****

He swung the bedroom door open with a bang against the wall, one hand clinging to the pants he’d pulled up over himself in a hurry before they fell to his ankles. The water was on in the shower. He moved toward the open bathroom door, and saw her wet, naked form. Standing there, entranced, the warm steam hitting his face, he heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been sure what to expect—an attempted suicide, her cowering in a corner. He was never certain with Officer Jayme, but a shower, well, that made sense. Through the clear shower door, she rubbed the pink loofah sponge up and down her body. Her dark hair curled up, crimping at the ends from the pouring water as she traced each area of her skin. Eyes closed, she hummed quietly.

He didn’t want to startle her, and he didn’t want to look away. However, he no longer questioned her motives for the display earlier. He’d be able to feel if she was sincere, see it in her eyes, if he could just get a bit closer. Suddenly, the water stopped and a hush came over the room. He took a step back as she opened the shower door and grabbed for the towel. Her eyes landed on his bare feet, up his bunched gray pants…then their eyes met. She sniffed, rubbed her nose with her index finger then stepped out and dried herself, acting as if he were not even standing there.

“Why’d you do that? Let me see you like that? You’ve been toying with me for weeks...but this was the worst of it all.” He tried to sound wounded—insulted, actually. He was sure he’d failed. He enjoyed every moment of her T&A display.

“I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Well, you could have just asked me to come in.”

“I did. You just didn’t like how I did it,” she snapped.

“What a load of shit and you know that...”

“I’m okay. I am, seriously.” She looked over her shoulder at him, a sincere smile across her face as she shook her head and patted the ends of her hair dry. He knew that smile now, what it meant. It meant she was telling the truth, but that her peace of mind was only temporary.

“After all the conversations we’ve had about this, why didn’t you tell me your brother was an addict?”

“You kill people involved with drugs. Why would I? I couldn’t trust you, not with information like that.”

Xzion looked briefly at the ground and crossed his arms. “What made you change your mind?”

“It wasn’t planned or well thought out, but,” she shrugged, “something just told me you may need the information more than I needed to keep it inside...and you needed to know the other side of this shit because,” she clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head, “it was plain to me that you didn’t know what was really going on. You thought you had it all figured out.”

“I would never hurt,” he paused, realizing he’d already hurt someone she cared about—he just hadn’t known it, “...I mean, I did think I had it all figured out.” He sighed heavily and leaned against the doorframe. “I want to apologize to you.”

“For what?” She lotioned her arms and hands.

“For how I spoke to that woman, and for not listening to you. You were right, I didn’t understand. I still don’t agree with it though.”

“And no one is asking you to.”

“Let me finish. I don’t agree with drug abuse, but seeing faces, hearing voices—it was different.”

“No one you cared about has ever had a drinking or drug abuse problem? In this big wide world? That’s hard to believe.”

She softly brushed past him to go into the bedroom, him right behind her.

“Nope. Not one.”

She sat at the foot of the bed and rubbed lotion on her feet.

“Well, I’m here with you now... I’d like to stay.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “I’d like that too.”

Smiling, he walked over to the remote control lying on the side of the bed. The aroma of the cherry blossom lotion caught his attention for a moment. He turned the television on and found a station that played music, the kind he believed she’d enjoy. Van Morrison crooned, “Someone Like You”. Jayme closed her eyes and leisurely swayed back and forth.