Good Girl (Playroom) (41 page)

“Isis, we need your help. Tina needs some clothes, and then I need you to get as much Gatorade from the fridge
as you can carry, and then grab a bottle of pain reliever.”

I give Isis
something to do so she doesn’t go crazy lethal bitch on us. Isis’ ebony eyes are enflamed, and I fear that I will be the one burnt by them. If it was between her best friend or her nephews, I’d be the one she’d lash out at.

“How long has Devon
been like this?” I ask Kieren, even though I’m scared shitless to find out.

“I do
n’t know. He hid it really well,” Kieren hopelessly mumbles. “I thought Devon didn’t want to hang out with me anymore because of…”

“Because of me,” I grunt as we carry Devon
down the hallway to my room. Devon’s hands limply drag along the floor. We had to switch our holds when we carried him up the staircase. Now Kieren’s arms are hooked under Devon’s armpits.

“Yeah,
that’s what I thought…but when Devon disappeared Friday night, and then he didn’t go to work this morning, I got worried. A lot can happen in three days.”

“Dump Devon
in my tub,” I order as I yank that vile blanket from his body. I want to bleach Devon, and then my hand because that filthy touched us. I shove the blanket in a bag and send it on its way down the dumbwaiter. I’m burning it later.

***

For the past hour, we’ve scrubbed an unconscious Devon. After we ran out of hot water, I allowed the icy-cold water to belt Devon in the face for a good twenty minutes before the scumbag came to. Four bottles of Gatorade, and three trips to worship the porcelain god, Devon’s finally cognizant.

“Eat it,” I grunt as I
toss a piece of dry toast on Devon’s belly. I nudge his foot with my sneaker, none to gently, I might add.

“Willow,” he croaks out.

“Shut the fuck up, Devon,” I hiss. I walk over to my bedroom door and lock it. I’m sure Kieren didn’t know any better, but Auggie should have known not to leave me alone with Devon. Auggie’s taking care of his sister while Kieren and Isis were commanded to attend a family meeting- intervention planning, I presume.

I hop
on my bed and straddle Devon’s thighs. His body disgusts me even after I scrubbed it raw with a back-brush and antibacterial dish soap. The body I’d worshipped has been used and abused. The body I made love to for the very first time- his and mine- has been fucked every which way and without a condom. I wouldn’t touch this dick again, and if I did, I’d need proof of negative test results and latex gloves.

“You’re going to listen,” I demand
in disgust. I grip Devon’s chin with my fingertips and dig my nails into his flesh. “Whether it’s because of the past or what happened between us, neither is good enough of a reason to be self-destructive, you selfish piece of shit. You will never touch drugs and alcohol for the rest of your life. If you do, I won’t intervention your ass, I’ll kill you,” I threaten.

“Willow,” Devon
coughs out and tries to swallow. I hand him a bottle of water and tell him to nurse it slowly. I don’t want to drag him back to the toilet.

“I said that you’re listening right now
, Devon. You need to hear me, not think up an excuse. Bad shit happens every day to good and bad people. We victimize and are victims. We deal and move on. What you’re doing is cowardly, because you’re doing it to yourself because you can. It’s selfish because you didn’t have to see the terror in your brother’s eyes when he came to get me, or how Kieren couldn’t even walk because he was shaking so badly, or how Isis nearly fainted when she saw your gray skin and sunken eyes. I don’t care if you hate me, or hate yourself. But you’ll love them, goddammit!”

It takes me several long minutes to reign in my fury and aggression. I close my eyes against the ne
ed to pummel Devon’s chest purple. I can smell his goddamned addictive scent. It’s wafting up and hitting me in the head like a ballpeen hammer to the skull.

I flick my eyes open and find Devon’
s waiting to connect with mine. Devon’s fingers are less than an inch from my calves. I watch as one tries to inch closer to touch me. I shake my head no and simultaneously mouth
no!

“You have the job you trained for
and excel at, a family that loves you, and friends that would dive into a drug den to save your unworthy ass- don’t play the woe-is-me bullshit. I’ll be here for you. No matter what intimately happened between us, I’m still your best friend. But unlike most best friends,” I close my eyes and murmur, “Or maybe I’ve just always had shitty ones,” underneath my breath. “I will haunt you until you do the right thing. I have pictures of you at that house, in my tub, and wrapped around my toilet. You’re going to stare at them every day, and if I find out you drank alcohol or took a drug, I’ll release every damn photo to the public. You don’t give a shit about yourself, but what about those kids you’ve raised since they were born. Go ahead and ruin your life, but don’t ruin theirs.”

“Willow,” Devon
desperately tries again.

“Nope,” I toss the pictures I print
ed out a few minutes ago onto Devon’s stomach. “I’m done talking. I don’t want to hear the excuses you formulated while I talked. You will sit here for an hour with nothing but your immortalized shame. Then I’ll listen to you…” 

~Chapter Forty-One~

“Tina?” I direct to Rob.
I guzzle a second energy drink as Devon’s hour turns into three. I’m making his ass wait. The Mason family arranged a six a.m. flight to Arizona, where Devon will undergo a sixty day stint at a rehab facility. Turns out that Devon’s cheating wasn’t his only betrayal, he was using the entire time we were together- and a long time before that. I’m making Devon wait six hours instead of one as punishment. I hope Devon tells me the truth when I go back up there.

“Already on a bus back to her
father’s house. Auggie has put Tina in five different rehabs- she’ll never change because she doesn’t want to. Auggie told Tina that she was dead to him and he never wanted to see her again. It sounds cruel, but Auggie’s suffered every time he’s seen her. It’s easier if you don’t have a visual reminder of your failure.”

“It’s not his failure,” I bark out.
“Auggie gave Tina every opportunity to fix herself, and she threw it back in his face. I don’t blame him. If Devon doesn’t come clean and stay clean, I’m writing him off,” my voice rings with finality.

“And if Devon
does stay clean, what will you do? Do you want him back?” Rob asks the question no one else has had the balls to ask.

“Oh, no fucking way. Our rel
ationship was false. I loved Devon, but who did I really love? That wasn’t him. Devon was acting while he covered up the real person lurking beneath. In a way, that hurts worse than what he did to me,” I sadly admit.

“I’m sure it wasn’t all a lie,” Rob tries to comfort me
, but only succeeds in twisting the knife in deeper.

“I know it wasn’t, but it’s easie
r to pretend that’s the case. Devon loved me. I know he did, and that he still does. I’ll always love Devon, too. But it will never be the same. A sober Devon will be my best friend, but nothing else. I hope he fixes himself…” I close my eyes against the tears that threaten to drown me. “I could have forgiven him, Robbie. I could have forgiven the real Devon, but he chose to spiral out of control. Devon chose to act like his mother, to fester instead of heal.”

“What’s going on with you?”
Robbie gets up from his chair and joins me on the sofa. He clutches my thigh and gives a few comforting squeezes before retreating back to his seat.

“What’s going on with you?” I parrot him with a chuckle
, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Nothing, I’m just trudging through this shit hoping for a brighter future.”

“Are you going to f
orgive Auggie?” I see the hope screaming from Robbie’s eyes. This is what everyone has been waiting months to ask. I see their struggle to spit the question out every time I see someone-anyone.  Yet again, my brother is the only one who has the balls to ask me.

“I already did, Rob. I alre
ady did. We’re good. I trust Auggie. I didn’t think I could ever say that again and mean it to my core. Maybe I’m being naïve again, but I don’t think so. We’ve changed. We’ve grown… grown, separately and together.”

“So… you’re
finally going to put Auggie out of his misery?” Robbie arches a brow at me in question.

“I was working on that when Kieren interrupted us,” I snicker.

“I saw Kieren when he was leaving. I guess Auggie didn’t maim him.” Robbie shakes his head in awe. “Good, I’m glad. You need each other, Willow. I’m not saying to marry the bastard or even sleep with him. But don’t shut him out of your affections and thoughts.”

“It’s a work in progress. I’m just going with the flow from now on. I’m not going to stress over this shit. I can love someone and not have them be my entire world- I reserve that spot for one person
, and one person alone,” I murmur.

“And who’s that?” Robbie leans forward, intrigued.

I give a husky laugh, “Me, you idiot. I’m not being selfish for putting myself first above the men in my life. If I ever get married, I’ll never put a man before me. If we break up, or God forbid he dies like Sam, I want to be standing when the smoke clears. I understand Clover better now. I respect her strength. She’s one tough bitch, and there ain’t a thing wrong with that. Where we differ- my happiness
will
come first. To quote our violent niece, ‘If momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. Well, momma ain’t happy, and I’m determined to change that.”

“And how are you
doing that, Willow?” Robbie leans forward as if intrigued. I don’t know what to call this level of interest. He practically slides into my lap, begging for information.

“Nah-uh,”
I snort. I don’t trust Robbie with this. I love knowing that Isis, Auggie, and Robbie don’t know. I don’t want their involvement. “It’s for the twenty and under crowd,” I taunt.

“
So the heroin user gets to know, but not your brother?” Robbie incredulously drawls.

“That was before I knew Devon
was shooting up,” I defend. “But only those who are directly affected by the outcome will know. I needed Devon’s permission for what I’m doing. Don’t belittle him,” I chastise Robbie. A possessive need to defend and protect Devon flashes through my body.

Rob gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Willow,” softly pours from his lips and he’s not apologi
zing for making fun of Devon. Robbie’s sorry that I still love Devon.

“Rob, I know there’s no going back. I’m mourning what could’ve been, not what was. I’ll get over it or I won’t, but it won’t wreck me,” I vow.

Rob’s brown eyes spark with amusement and he smirks. “And Kieren, what are you doing with him?” Rob practically laughs out. I smile back at him, knowing he’s trying to divert my attention for the brother that deeply broke my heart to the one that has the potential to break my heart again.

“
Alright, I’m going to take a page from your future wife’s playbook. Isis said that you can’t be your spouse’s best friend. I understand her. Isis can do a pretty mean analogy, so I’ll give it a try.”

“Willow,” Robbie
practically growls at me, “Isis isn’t my wife.”

“If you say so…
” I smirk at Rob’s ridiculous denial. “Follow along, it’s about to get complicated,” I snicker. “If I tripped while walking down the sidewalk, Auggie would give me a hand up. But I’d feel like a dipshit. If someone tripped me, Auggie would lecture me on what I did wrong to make the person angry. If I tripped while walking down the sidewalk with Kieren, it’s because his foot accidentally-on-purpose landed in my direct path. Kieren would give me a hand up while laughing his ass off, and then he’d run down the street. I’d catch up and demand a piggy-back ride. If someone tripped one of us, we’d go kick their ass, together, even if we deserved it in the first place. I don’t care what Kieren thinks of me. There’s no pressure to please him, and no worry of disappointing him. If Kieren is mad at me, he tells me. If I say something stupid, he shuts my mouth. It is, what it is.”

“So Kieren
’s like your boyfriend or something?” Rob mumbles in confusion and I bark a laugh.

“How do you communic
ate with Isis?” I snort. “No, Kieren’s the best friend you call to bail you out of jail or help you bury a body. Kieren’s the friend that won’t ask any questions. He’ll just ask where and when, and I’ll bring the shovel, but dig your own damn hole. It’s refreshing.”

“What you’re saying is that you pretty much want to fuck the hell out of him?”

“Pretty much,” I embarrassingly admit. “If I were you, Kieren would be my Auggie, and Devon, my Isis.” Robbie’s face lights up when he finally gets it. My artist brother is a dipshit. I thought I’d need to draw him a diagram to explain myself.

“Why won’t you open the
Playroom
? It sucks being at the club when I have this awesome room locked behind closed doors that’s conveniently ten feet from my bedroom.” Rob whines and nibbles on his bottom lip- yet another question no one but my brother had the balls to ask.