Vicious Cycle (19 page)

“Is she all right?”

“I think she’ll be fine. Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?”

“Of course. She’s yours.”

The nurse pulled a rocking chair beside the bassinet, and when Jordan was seated, she got the baby out of her bed, untangling the wires, and handed Grace to her.

Jordan was amazed at the warmth flushing through her the moment she touched her baby’s skin. Grace had been cleaned up, and her hair had dried fluffy rather than curly.

The nurse stood over her for a moment. “Did you say you named her Grace? I’ll put that on her chart.”

“Yes, Grace,” she said. As if in response, little Grace looked up at her, her gaze so clear and knowing that Jordan had the feeling she understood everything. Shame slammed her. Did Grace know she’d been born on her mother’s dirty bedroom sheets? Did she know her mother was a tweaker? That she had chosen ice over prenatal care?

Maybe she’d be lucky and never find out. Never know darkness or pain … or the truth about her family’s betrayal.

As she rocked her baby, she realized it was the first time she’d felt a connection like this to any human being. The first time she’d had love for a blood relative, someone of her own. The first time she’d cared about anyone more than herself.

It was almost enough to make her want to keep Grace.

But then what would she do? She would have to get a job, and that meant she’d have to find someone to watch Grace while she worked. Even when her mother got out of jail, she would be no help—in fact, she’d be outraged that Jordan had destroyed her get-rich-quick scheme. She could go on welfare, Jordan supposed. That was a way to keep her.

But she was fifteen. What did she know about taking care of a baby? She had no safe place to live.

She pictured Grace growing up with Madeline and Ben. A swing set in the backyard. Frilly dresses. Photo albums full of firsts. All the things that had been absent from Jordan’s life.

She wanted those things for Grace.

Giving her to Madeline and Ben was the best thing for her baby. If she didn’t do this right, then nothing she did for the rest of her life would matter.

She wasn’t sure it would matter anyway.

She started to cry, her tears wetting the little T-shirt that barely covered Grace’s tiny belly. Her little navel was clamped off. She kissed the baby’s round cheek, breathed in the scent of her baby skin, and let her lips linger there.

Suddenly, Grace let out a cry. Jordan felt the ache of her milk. Unprepared and flustered, she looked up for the nurse. “Can you take her?”

“Sure, honey.”

Jordan stood and handed the baby back. As the nurse turned to put Grace back into her bassinet, Jordan fled from the sound of her child’s hungry cry. Dragging her IV pole with her, she rushed back down the hallway toward her room.

She couldn’t take this pain. She needed to get high, so she could forget she had a baby, one whose needs she couldn’t meet.

She jerked the IV needle out of her hand, got dressed in her filthy clothes, and left her gown on the bed. Then she called a friend to come get her.

No one noticed her as she got onto the elevator. In mere moments she was out the door and waiting for her ride. Soon she could forget.

W
here had she gone? One minute Jordan had promised

Madeline and Ben they could adopt the baby, and minutes later, while Barbara and Emily were downstairs getting her a milkshake, she walked out of the hospital and vanished.

“Mom, it’s what she does,” Emily said, standing in the doorway of Jordan’s hospital room. “She runs away and uses when she’s upset. It doesn’t mean she’s changed her mind.”

Madeline and Ben had left the hospital after Jordan promised them the baby, but Karen had called them back to break the news. Madeline was grief-stricken, as if she’d just lost another baby. “But are we going to get the baby or not?” she asked through tears.

“I’m sure you are, Madeline,” Barbara said. “Don’t give up. Just pray. We’re going to find her.”

As Barbara and Emily went to the car, Emily said, “Let’s
go back to the motel where you found her. That’s the first place she would go.”

“There’s no ‘let’s.’ You’re not going. I’m taking you home.”

“But, Mom, she’s my friend.”

“Emily, the last place I want you to go on the day you get out of treatment is a dope motel.”

Emily threw her chin up. “I can handle it.”

“You think you’re strong, but you don’t know that for sure. You’re going to stay home.”

Emily gave a long-suffering sigh. “All right, but when we find her, I’m gonna kill her. She shouldn’t jerk people around this way.”

After going by the police station to pick up Kent, Barbara dropped Emily off at her car, parked where Kent had left it. When Emily got home, she found Lance brooding in front of the television. She plopped down on the couch next to him. “So much for a warm homecoming.”

“Hey, you didn’t spend the whole weekend in jail. I at least expected them to throw us a parade or something.” He poked at his game control and killed an alien on the screen. “Mom told me Jordan ran again. So where do you think she went this time?”

“I hope she’s where she was last time so Mom and Kent can find her.”

“If she really doesn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t go back there.”

They stared numbly at the television. When the phone rang, Emily picked it up. “Hello?”

“Emily, it’s Paige! How are you, girl? Why haven’t you called me?”

Paige was her old best friend, who was still actively using. “I just got out of rehab today,” she said. “How did you know I was out?”

“Jordan told me. She’s here, and she’s freaking me out a little. All beat up, can hardly walk. And now she’s passed out.”

Emily sprang up. “Jordan? Here
where?”

Lance looked up. “She knows where Jordan is?” he whispered.

Paige’s voice sounded sluggish, high. “Yeah. She’s here at the house on Napa Street.”

Emily closed her eyes. She knew the place — a dope house where people hung out for days at a time. Another one of Belker’s places. “Paige, she should be in a hospital.”

Lance stood up and put his ear next to the phone, trying to hear. “Paige, do you hear me?” Emily asked.

“Maybe she used too much. Took four bars … you know, when you’re weak like that …”

“Four bars of Xanax could kill her! Paige, let me talk to her!”

“Can’t. She’s out cold.”

Emily’s throat grew tight. “Call an ambulance. I’m serious, Paige. She could die.”

“Are you kidding?” Paige whispered. “Belker would kill me.” The phone clicked off, and Emily stood staring at it.

Lance’s face was only inches from hers. “What? What’s four bars? What does that mean?”

“Four pills. It’s way too much, that’s what it means. It could seriously kill her, and nobody there is going to do anything.” She grabbed her purse. “So I have to. I’m going to get her. Where are my keys?”

“You’re not seriously going to a meth house, are you?”

Emily found her purse tossed on the counter, and dug out her keys. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Call Mom and Kent.”

She turned back to him. “You don’t understand. I can’t just tell them who and where my suppliers were without serious payback. They’ll know Paige called me and that I ratted them out. They’ll burn our house down. They’ll shoot through our windows. They’ll kill all of us.”

He stared at her. “And they won’t get mad if you go there yourself?”

“No. They won’t think I’m a threat. If I just go in and tell them I’m trying to help Jordan, they’ll let me take her. They know I’m an addict, and they don’t want to deal with a girl dying there.”

“Emily, this is stupid. You think you can waltz in there and find Jordan and not be the least bit tempted to buy drugs?”

“I don’t even have any money!”

“Jordan didn’t have any money, either, but obviously somebody there got her some dope. And if you go there in your condition — ”

“What condition?” she yelled.

“Fragile!” he yelled back. “Right out of treatment. You’ll be making our worst fears come true. The last place Mom and I want you is in a dope house.”

Emily threw up her hands. “Look, this is life or death. Jordan could die. She
wants
to die right now. We have to stop her. She’s your friend too. Don’t you care?”

“Then I’m going with you.”

Why did he have to be so stubborn? “That’s ridiculous. You just got out of jail. On bail. What would happen if you got caught near a place like that?”

“Emily, if you got caught there you’d go to jail too. We’d both wind up in jail.”

“Shouldn’t we put Jordan before ourselves? She’s injured and sick. She just overdosed.”

Lance wouldn’t budge. “If you’re going, I’m going. Period.”

She stared at him. “All right, I don’t have time for this. Jordan doesn’t have time. Come on.”

Lance got his jacket and followed her out to her car. “You sure you remember how to drive?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a whole year.”

“I drove home just now. I’m as good a driver as ever.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Shut up.” She started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

“If Mom gets home and finds us gone, she’ll freak,” he said. “This is wrong on so many levels.”

“If we find Jordan and get her back to the hospital, Mom will be fine. She wants to help her.”

Lance sulked as Emily drove. When she turned off the highway into a high-crime area, his mouth fell open. “Are you kidding? This is a bad part of town, Emily.”

“I know. Just chill.”

“Is this where you spent your time before treatment?”

“Some of it.”

As she turned down a road next to a sleazy bar and drove through a neighborhood where men loitered on the corners, she realized just how right Lance was—this was a dangerous part of town. She’d never been clearheaded enough to worry about it before. Tension made her head ache as she slowed at the old rusted warehouse Belker had taken over after a factory closed down.

“What’s this?”

“It’s where she is,” she said. “My old stomping ground.”

“Jordan uses crystal meth. I thought you never used that.”

“No, but I got crack here. You can get almost anything. It’s a one-stop shop for junkies.”

“That’s not funny,” he said.

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” She started to get out. “Wait here. I’m going in.”

“No way! I’m not letting you go in there by yourself. Are you crazy?”

She groaned. “Lance, what kind of sister would I be if I dragged my little brother into a dope house?”

“And what kind of brother would I be if I let my drug-addict sister go into one the day she gets out of rehab, without some kind of accountability? We’ve been through too much with you, Emily.”

“Where did you even learn that word? Accountability.”

“Family counseling, hello-o! I’m not an idiot.”

She sighed and got out. “All right, come on. We’re in and we’re out, just that fast. Don’t talk to anybody. And don’t argue with me. Let me do the talking. I know how to handle these people.”

She closed her car door and went to the door, knocked, and waited as someone peered out through the window. She recognized the bouncer. His name was Charles, and he usually packed a pistol. The threat of anyone turning into an informant could turn him deadly. He recognized her and opened the door.

“Emily? Whassup, girl? Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. Let me in,” she said. He moved back as they stepped over the threshold. “This is my brother.”

He gave Lance a once-over. “You sure he’s cool?”

“He’s fine. Would I bring anyone who’s not?”

“New customer?” he asked Lance.

Lance shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever.”

The bouncer seemed satisfied. As Emily moved farther into the building, she smelled the meth cooking. It smelled like chemicals burning and would get all of them decades in jail if the police were to raid the place now. The state didn’t take meth labs lightly—not when they poisoned soil and drinking water and created fire hazards that put entire neighborhoods in danger.

Lance coughed and tried to get a clear breath. She hoped he didn’t realize what was cooking. One unwise word from him could get them both killed.

“We ain’t seen you since you murdered that chick,” Charles said.

Emily’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t murder anybody.”

“You were all over the news. What was it happened again?”

There was no one in the front room, so Emily looked toward the dark hallway. “I was rescued and cleared.”

“So where you been all this time? I thought you was in jail.”

Giving him a travelogue of her last twelve months wouldn’t help. “Whatever. I’m out now. I’m just looking for somebody.”

She glanced toward the makeshift kitchen. Through the doorway, she saw a table covered with syringes. A junkie sat there with a lighter’s flame under a spoon, melting a rock of crack. The sight brought back a vengeful craving. All those months of sobriety hadn’t taken away that door in her soul that opened and closed so easily. The dragon was still alive, and this was his lair.

Suddenly she was glad Lance was with her.

“Who you looking for, Emily?”

She glanced back at Charles. “Jordan Rhodes. She still here?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I need to find her. She’s sick and she could die. She had a baby and lost a lot of blood. They had to give her a transfusion, and she was dehydrated … but she ran from the hospital.”

Suspicion narrowed his eyes.

“Seriously,” she said. “I need to find her. She might have it in her head to overdose on purpose. You don’t want to deal with a dead body, do you? Please, if she’s here, tell me where she is. I just want to help her.”

“First you come with me.” He put his arm around her and walked her away from Lance. She knew where this would lead. He would give her a freebie, get her started again. And as they’d taught her in treatment, every time she relapsed it would be worse.

Her mind groped for the Scripture she’d recited a thousand times in rehab.
God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.