Wait on Me (Knights of Retribution MC Book 2) Page 6

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marisole

  Ravage came back about twenty minutes ago, and I just finished cooling my dope down. I’m using one of his belts as a tourniquet for my arm, but I’m having a bitch of a time finding a vein. I slap my forearm, hand, and my mid-arm, but not one vein pops. “Motherfucker,” I hiss as I bite down on the belt.

  Ravage has shut his bedroom door and he leans against it, eyes focused on me as he watches from the other side of the room.

  I yank on the belt tighter and pray a vein will pop. Scanning over my arm and hand for anything, all I see is marks and bruises. Nothing is popping. Dammit. I kick off my shoes and release the belt from around my arm. Now I wrap it around my mid-leg and I use my teeth again to pull it tight. A light blue vein pops on the center of my foot and I smile, knowing I can take this pain away.

  I grab the bottle of alcohol Ravage brought me and use a cotton ball to clean my foot and wave air against my skin. I carefully inch the needle forward and a slight pinch ripples through my foot. I pull the plunger back as soon as I think I’m where I need to be and sure enough, blood shows up. I push the plunger down and pull the needle out just as euphoria floods through every part of my body.

  I’m no longer nervous. Anxiety doesn’t cast a depressive cloud over my body. Nothing matters anymore and I feel nothing except contentment. Breathing in and out through my nose, I shut my eyes and lean back against Ravage’s bed. The drug spreads through my veins.

  When Scar forced me to do this, it quickly became a habit. Now I use it as a way to cope with life. I’m just an addict now. Without heroin, I feel disgusting. My body doesn’t know how to operate without the drug. Whenever I start coming down and going through withdrawal, sweats break out over my body, and soon after, it’s like ants are crawling all over me. Disgusting isn’t even the proper word for how it makes me feel.

  I lay here for a few moments in the silence and after a bit, I scoot up. Ravage is still leaning against the wall and his eyes are locked onto my body. “Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t seen other women shoot up.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re not wrong, but none of them are you. It’s different.”

  It can’t be different. We haven’t seen each other in almost ten years. “Spare me the bullshit. We haven’t seen each other in years. And in case you’re wondering, I just use to help me deal with Scar.”

  An even more serious look crosses his face. “You mean you used. You’re not gonna do it anymore, Mari. I can understand using to deal with shit when you’re in a bad situation, but you aren’t anymore. You’re out and there aren’t any more excuses, so enjoy the way you feel right now.”

  I laugh, the type of laugh that rolls through my entire body. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Do I look like I’m fuckin’ around with you?” he hisses from across the room. Kicking himself off the door, he comes toward his bed and glares at me. “Do you really think I wanna watch you OD like I have with many others? The answer is no. Hell, I can’t believe you turned out like this, like . . .” He stops speaking completely and a disappointed expression crosses his face.

  Now I’m the one scoffing. I lick my bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, hard to see me like this, isn’t it? I’ll break it down for you. Not everything is picture fucking perfect. Life is hard. I needed the dope, and I would’ve killed myself without it. Hell, I—” I stop speaking, knowing I don’t need to tell Ravage shit. He isn’t owed any answers.

  “With your daddy, I’m surprised you even touched the shit.”

  I shut my eyes for a moment and take a few breaths, trying my hardest not to lose my shit. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. When it comes to my father, I get so angry. If I’d just stuck up for myself as a young woman, I might’ve never ended up here . . . but look where I am now. God, this is laughable.

  “My father wasn’t the man you thought he was. He wasn’t even the man I thought he was,” I grumble, not able to look at my ex. The only person who will ever understand the disappointment I have is Rosa. Well, Rosa and our half-brother, Ricardo, but I don’t even know where he is. Neither does she or Xavier. We barely know anything about him, so finding him is like searching for a needle in a haystack, from what Rosa’s told me.

  “Didn’t take a genius to figure that out,” Ravage tells me in an annoyed tone. It’s like my mere presence is too much for him. Funny, considering a few minutes ago, he was so dead set on ‘helping’ me.

  A knock comes to Ravage’s door and he opens the door. “Can I help you?” He seems confused.

  “Hey, have you seen my—” Rosa doesn’t finish asking her question before she’s in his bedroom and sees me sitting on his comforter. “Did you get high? How the fuck did you even get any . . . fuck, Marisole!”

  “I was going through withdrawal, so I dealt with it,” I mutter, not looking into her eyes.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You need to get clean, not get high. You . . . I . . . you don’t have any reason to be using anymore. You’re not with Scar. You’re not being . . . fuck. You have a life, Marisole. You have a life now!”

  I laugh at her innocence. She doesn’t realize the type of man my husband is. “Rosa, I don’t have a life. He will come for me until he has me again, or I’m dead. You’re seriously underestimating him.”

  Rosa’s upper lip curls in aggravation. “I’ve told you this already, but I’ll say it until you understand, okay? He won’t get within an arm’s reach of you. Fuck, he won’t even look at you without getting a piece of fucking lead between his eyes. I’m not fucking around here, Marisole. You’re my sister and I’m trying so hard to make sure we don’t lose each other. We’ve lost enough already, haven’t we?”

  “Yes, but you don’t know him, Rosa. You don’t understand what he’s like. He’s possessive. He’s crazy. He’s . . . he’s dark, okay? He won’t—”

  “He won’t fucking touch you, Mari.” Ravage looks right at me as he calls me by my nickname and Rosa furrows her brows. The way she’s staring at Ravage tells me she knows we must know each other, but I doubt she has the details.

  Rosa clears her throat. “You’re not living your life in fear anymore. You’ll get clean, Marisole. I have faith in you. We . . . we’re not weak women, and I know you can do this.” Rosa gets closer to the door and stops as she’s in the frame. “Ravage, do you mind stepping out for a minute? I think we should have a chat.”

  Ravage nods and follows her. “Sure.”

  The door closes and I fall back on the bed, praying the euphoria lasts for longer than I expect. I don’t want the pain to come crashing in like a wrecking ball. The dope . . . it makes everything better. It takes away all the pain and I know it’s selfish for me to keep shooting up, but I don’t think it’s wrong to want a life without pain. I’ve just never known it without heroin.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ravage

  I shut the door behind me, and Rosa starts to walk partway down the hallway. Eventually, she stops and turns around. There’s a lost look in her eyes and I know she has questions. I would, too, if I was in her position. Hell, there’s no way Marisole even knew I was here. If she did, she would’ve given her sister a heads up or somethin’.

  “We were engaged, or almost engaged,” I cut straight to the chase, lookin’ in her eyes. “Nine years ago, your sister gutted me like a fish and broke up with me while we were on vacation in Mexico. The same fuckin’ day I met your father.” I smirk as I scoff. Nothin’ about the memories are good, but damn, it’s funny how life works out.

  “You’re kidding.” Rosa’s mouth drops in surprise.

  “I wish I was. Small world though, right?”

  She shakes her head and shrugs. “I guess so. I . . . I’m naturally going to assume you actually give a shit about my sister then.”

  Immediately, I nod. “Without a doubt.”

  Rosa nods in affirmation. “Good, ‘cause I need help getting her clean and I’m hoping you can help me with tha
t.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” says the man who got her the dope in the first place. God, I’m a fuckin’ dick. I don’t want her goin’ cold turkey, though. She might’ve conned me into gettin’ shit for her, but she needed somethin’. I’ve watched plenty of people go through withdrawal. Hell, Butcher used to be an addict and he relapsed one time. The bastard was damn sure to go cold turkey without hits every now and again. I’m surprised the old fuck survived it. This is different though, Butcher obviously isn’t the first woman I ever loved. Seein’ her like this, a damn bag of bones with track marks and bruises all over her, it guts me.

  I watched Butcher go through everythin’ he did, but he’s a stubborn old brute. I don’t think I saw him as desperate as others might be. Marisole, though, she’s gonna be goin’ through it hard. With as many bruises and track marks as she has on her body, she must’ve been takin’ hits every few hours at least. If she wasn’t, I’d be shocked.

  “I . . . we have to leave to go back to Montana first thing in the morning, and I don’t think she can make the trip in her current condition. Not to mention, we have our own crap going on in Billings. I . . .” Rosa stops speaking and looks right at me. “I’ll keep it plain and simple. I can’t be the person to stand by her side and get her through the next couple of weeks. But . . .”

  “I can. Don’t worry about it.” No way in hell am I not gonna be here for Marisole. Rosa’s tryin’ to ask me for help and while she’s doin’ it ass-backward I’ll be here for her sister.

  “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be a bother, but I didn’t know you had a history with her . . . I’m just . . . if I was the only person, I’d make it work.”

  “Look, I mean no disrespect here, but I might even know Marisole better than you do. I can help her through this. You head back to Montana tomorrow and I’ll handle everything, and within a couple weeks, she’ll be clean.” At least I hope she will be. I’m not a fuckin’ addiction counselor over here.

  “Babe,” Axel’s voice rings down the hallway and he turns the corner, setting his eyes on his ol’ lady and me. “Hey, man, ‘sup?”

  “Ravage used to date my sister.” Rosa doesn’t even let me get a word in before she tells Axel my business. I’m sure she was gonna tell him anyway, but she’s cutting straight to the good shit right now.

  “You gotta be fuckin’ with me, right?” Axel looks at Rosa and then over to me.

  “Nope.” I keep it plain and simple.

  “Shit, well, damn. Babe, we’re heading back out now. Inc just called Zane. Something’s goin’ on with Syd,” Axel tells Rosa, and she instantly looks concerned.

  “Is she okay?” she asks.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t have a clue, darlin’, but we need to get goin’ now. We’re all ridin’ out.” If they’re all ridin’ out, it has to be serious. Sydney is Zane’s adopted daughter.

  “If you need us, give me a holler. Gamble and I will always lend support wherever it’s needed,” I declare.

  The Reapers Rejects MC has always been a great ally and whatever they need, we’ll be there. I know the same goes for us if the roles were reversed.

  Axel nods his thanks. “Cool. So, what’re we gonna do about your sister? She good to travel?”

  Rosa shakes her head. “No, Ravage is going to help us out for a couple weeks. Minus the issue back home, you know it’s not like I have the time to dedicate at this second. I have that project with Octavia coming up for Vixens and we can’t delay it.”

  Axel seems to be understanding everything his ol’ lady is saying, and it’s all a foreign language to me. “Are we gonna come back and get her in a couple weeks?”

  “Yeah, if that’s okay?” Rosa looks at me, and I nod.

  “Sure, it’s no problem.” It is a problem. Since I saw her on the beach, I prayed it was her, but now I know. It was Marisole and I don’t want her to walk out of my life ever again. Fuck, I won’t give her a choice. She left me once and people like us, we don’t get second chances. I’m not gonna let this opportunity pass me up.

  “Cool. I’ll let Zane know what’s goin’ on. Will you be ready to bounce in fifteen?” Axel asks.

  Rosa sucks in a deep breath and nods. “Sure. Just let me say goodbye to my sister.”

  Axel walks off and goes back the way he came in. The moment we both hear the door shut, we’re walkin’ back to my bedroom. Rosa surprises me, though, grabs my hand and looks into my eyes. She’s nervous, terrified, the stress is showin’ on her face. But what is she so afraid of?

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this. I know it won’t be easy. She’s not going to be able to sleep. She’ll be restless and agitated. That’ll only be the beginning of her problems.”

  “I know. I’ve been through this before,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you used in the past.”

  “No, no. I mean, I’ve helped a friend through this. Her body will feel like it’s on fire. She’ll probably vomit, sweat a bit. Whatever it is, I’ll get her through it. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  Rosa smiles softly. “I honestly believe you and I can’t say that to most people.”

  “Well, I’m glad you can today.”

  We walk up to my bedroom door and before we open it, Rosa looks right at me. “Marisole isn’t the only one in our family who’s had problems with addiction. I haven’t told her yet, but one day I will . . . I just don’t think now’s the right time. She needs to focus on herself, not on my past.”

  I offer her a sympathetic smile and open the door for Rosa. She heads inside and walks up to the bed where her sister lays on my comforter. Marisole sits up and looks at Rosa and while their voices are too low for me to hear, the second Marisole’s eyes shift over to mine, I know Rosa’s told her I’m going to be her guard dog.

  What she doesn’t know is I won’t ever be quittin’ this job.

  I’ll protect her for the rest of my damn life, and that’s a promise.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marisole

  Sweat beads across my forehead and my head pounds as if there are drummers inside my head. I want to scream, cry, and everything in between, but I know nothing will make this better. It’s been nine hours since my last hit and Ravage hasn’t helped me get another at all. I know he’s helping me get clean but doesn’t he realize he’s making me suffer? That’s what this is, suffering!

  Nausea rolls through my gut and before I know it, I’m grabbing the wire trash can beside his bed. My stomach contents pour into the waste bin and I pray for this to all end. I can’t get through this. I’m not strong enough. This is only the beginning and things will be getting so much worse.

  “I can’t do this,” I moan. Sliding over the side of the bed, I wrap my arms around the trash can.

  Ravage sits up and turns on the light, illuminating the room. “You can, and you will. You’re stronger than you know, Mari. I promise.”

  Unable to keep myself from scoffing, I roll my eyes. “I’m tired of men and their empty promises.”

  “I’m not your father,” he growls and sits down on the floor beside me. Meanwhile, the weight of his words slap me like a ton of bricks.

  “How’d you even know I was talking about him?” I question, lifting my head up from the can I look at him.

  “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who you were referring to. Given the conversations I’ve had with Rosa, it was easy.”

  God, my sister. The one who left me here with Ravage. The one who said we’d get through life together . . . she abandoned me here with him.

  “I need another hit, Ravage. This is too much. It’s too much at on—” I’m unable to finish as more bile comes up. At this point, my vomit is just old water and sports drinks.

  “No, you don’t,” Ravage tells me, and if I had the energy, I would wrap my hands around his throat and choke him out.

  “I hate you,” I growl lowly while chills run down my spine. He either doesn’t care about any
thing I’m going through, or he doesn’t understand what it’s like. Any decent human being would get me some dope right now, just to take the edge off. We could tamper me down little by little and I’d be able to get clean that way.

  Ravage stands up and goes to his dresser. He grabs a shirt and throws it on and I spot the tattoos going down his arms. I didn’t even realize he had tattoos, but maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention.

  On his right bicep, there’s a partial portrait of some sort of warrior. He looks to be from either medieval or ancient times. His entire body is a piece of artwork. I look over every tattoo, from the warrior to the lion on his alternate forearm.

  “You don’t hate me. You hate what I’m doing. There’s a difference, Mari. Only you don’t realize I’m doing this to help you better your life.” Ravage grabs his cut from the hook behind his bedroom door, slides it on and before I realize what’s happening, he’s gone.

  Figures, he’s leaving me the same way Rosa did. She told me she’d be here for me for whatever I needed and what a joke. She’s not here at all. She left, left me with my ex, for that matter. I push the trash can away and grab onto the side of his bed to pull myself up. He has two doorways a few feet away from each other, so I head over to one and pull it open. Sure enough, there’s a bathroom on the other side.

  Walking over to the shower, I pull back the curtain and turn on the water. I make sure it’s hot. I want to step into this and feel something. I want it to burn my skin.

  The water hits against the base of the shower and I strip out of my clothes. I turn the water on at the sink for a second, but only enough for me to gather some in my mouth. I swish it around and spit it out, put my hands on both sides of the porcelain sink and look at my reflection.