About an hour and a half later, I found myself pissed off and pounding impatiently on the front door of a ramshackle cesspool that was supposed to be a house.  I came straight to the source of Sean's supply after searching like a madman through his stash, hoping to find the one fucking fix that would get me through a few more seconds without Riley.

I knew Sean didn't deal the kind of shit I was looking for. It would have been a good thing under normal circumstances, except I needed a dealer without a conscience, and he wasn't that guy. He had a shred of humanity and decency, except when it came to pussy—all bets were off when Sean wanted to get his dick wet. 

My roommate was livid and was on the verge of tearing me a new asshole when he caught me snooping around in his stuff before I left the house. However, he managed to shake it off and play the nice guy when a brunette with a decent ass came upstairs to his room and hopped into his bed while we were arguing. 

Sean wanted me out of the room more than he wanted to punch me in the face. 

My generous friend smiled like nothing had happened between us and padded my pocket with about a thousand bucks worth of pills before I left. He suggested I sell them to make some quick cash to pay him back for what I had been siphoning off behind his back. Little did that smirking dickhead know that I was planning on seeing how fast I could binge my way through the bag and had no intention of letting them go.

He would never get his money back and I didn't give one fuck about the consequences. Let him come for me. He could bring along a few friends to make it more interesting and even out the odds. 

I shook away thoughts of Sean and rapped again on the crumbling door. Pain shot down my mangled knuckles and shredded palm as the side of my fist left notches in the wood.  The damage I had done to my hand while punching Riley's wall was much worse than I thought.  If I were still playing my guitar, I would barely even be able to unclench my fingers enough to pluck a string or two. 

"Hold the fuck up." A deep voice bellowed from behind the door. 

The sound of a clacking deadbolt only intensified the itch I needed desperately to scratch.  There was no backup plan. Even if Sean wasn't angry with me, his connections weren't limitless. Hopefully, the guy behind the door recognized me from the last time I came here with my roommate for one of his weekly pickups.

The door slid open slowly and I took a step back.  A short guy with a beard that ended right above his beltline appeared. He took a cautious step outside as soon as he saw me. Luckily for me, it was the same guy Sean hustled for, not some random tweaker who didn't know me from a horse's ass.

My brain went completely blank when I went to greet my host.  I couldn't remember the dude's name at all.   The bald guy stared at me with a scowl, making me worry a little about scoring without additional complications. However, at the exact moment I started to open my mouth to explain why I was there, a light bulb lit up over his misshapen head.

Thank fuck—he did remember me. 

"Shit my man. I thought you were the cops. You shouldn't roll up on someone's house like that."  His gritty voice sounded like someone had taken his vocal cords and roughed them up with sandpaper.

"Not a cop," I confirmed in case it was still up for debate.

"Your Sean's friend, right? The guitar player." The slimeball scratched the fringe of the tangled mess on his face like he had fleas. "You lookin' for something?"

"Yeah."

I twisted my eyebrow rings as I glanced around the neighborhood to ensure no one was watching.  My paranoia made me uneasy, like someone was going to jump out of the bushes to attack me with a baseball bat.

"Come on in." Sean's supplier opened the door wider than necessary and invited me inside the dark house. 

The main floor was even worse than I remembered it the last time I was here. There were holes in the rotting floorboards and dark shadows that used to be called human beings hiding in every nook and cranny. 

Everyone in this room had a death wish—including me. 

"What's your pleasure? Oxy, X, or some angel dust, maybe? I got a new batch that just came in. It's some pristine shit. Little expensive, but it's quality." He offered me the kiddie menu, trying to size me up. 

"No, I'm looking for something else," I mumbled, turning my attention toward a couple sitting on a stained couch.

I shivered with equal parts need and repulsion when the blond girl, wearing nothing but her underwear, held a lighter under the needle in her hand. She was straddling a shirtless creature lying on his back as she held the flame to the metal, burning the tip until it turned black.  The stupid bitch was trying to sterilize and reuse the dirty needle.  Once satisfied, she leaned over a tray sitting next to them, filling up the syringe.  She tapped the side a few times and then leaned back into the guy, immediately sinking the tip into his open mouth, directly into the vein under his tongue.

The whole scene left me with a weird, confusing knot at the base of my spine—not because the girl was anything to look at, but because of the images it created in my head.

Riley's enormous tits bouncing in my face like that would be so fucking sexy. My dick twitched, thinking about the euphoria I would feel as she ground her ass against my dick, feeding my addiction the same way.  

I had to wipe the drool from my mouth as I lost my head again to my beautiful girl.  My desires were so far from reality that they were borderline psychotic. I was more likely to have a singing purple dinosaur give me a blow job than what I was fantasizing about. 

Riley would be mortified and ashamed if she was inside my head to see the things I conjured. It was no fucking wonder the girl couldn't even stand being in the same room as me.

I could barely even tolerate myself when I was this bad.

I had to shake thoughts away before they killed me. The drugs would help ease my suffering. I just needed to get them in my system sooner than later.

"Hmmm. Interesting." The gruff guy snorted, studying me like a winning lottery ticket as I watched the girl grind on the shirtless guy's dick.  "I think I got just the thing for you. Follow me. Not sure if we have ever officially been introduced. Name's Lonnie, by the way."

"Ezra," I mumbled to his back as he led me up the stairs to a dark room in the back of the house.

Once inside the room, Lonnie went to his closet and fumbled with a keypad on an oversized safe on the floor. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited while he opened it to pull out a small metal box. 

"I got a ton of traditional black if you're looking to go cheap. There's also the brown if you are wanting to feel even better. I would highly recommend the white. It's more expensive, but it takes a little less to get the job done." My new best friend gave me the sales pitch like I was a novice.

I already knew what I was searching for and didn't really want to settle for anything less. 

"Purple?" I asked as he placed the box on the bed next to me. I was twitchy and salivating at the goldmine inside. Everything I ever wanted was in that box—except for Riley. 

I chuckled to myself for a moment, wondering if she could fit inside. The brief bit of humor didn't last long, though. When I realized I had spent a whole ten seconds without thinking about her or the baby we lost, my guilt consumed me again.

I couldn't get away from myself fast enough.

"Ahh, a connoisseur. Do you have the cash?" Lonnie interrupted the muddled voices doing battle in my head.

I grabbed my wallet and threw the guy everything I had in it.  Lonnie smiled and went back into the closet safe. He magically produced another smaller metal box with a combination lock on it. His scarred hands twisted the dials in front of me, trusting me enough not to even pay attention to the fact that I could see the code. 

Fucking cracked-out idiot. 

Lonnie handed me the small care package. It sure as hell wasn't much, but it was more than enough to get me started. 

"My sister, Laura, has some needles in the room next door if you are thinking about hanging around for a bit. There's a room at the other end of the hall if you want some privacy, or you can use the main room if you want a little extra company. For an extra forty, I can have Laura come upstairs to shoot you up and suck your dick." Lonnie offered.

"I'm good. Thanks, man." I cringed.

Face fucking a desperate junkie slut was completely off the table.  The only way my cock would slide between a pair of pouty, pink lips today would be if Riley Davis, herself, walked into the house, pulled my dick out, and kneeled down in front of me. Even then, I wasn't sure I would be up for it in this hellhole. 

This place reeked of wrong.

"How about twenty?" Lonnie lowered the asking price like he was selling a car. 

"Maybe another time. But I'll take you up on the room and supplies." As I climbed off the bed, I held back the bile from spewing out.  It was the one time I was thankful JD was Riley's brother instead of someone like this guy.  At least I knew JD tried to protect his sweet little sister, despite being terrible at it and failing more often than not.

Who the fuck pimps out someone for twenty bucks anyway?

This guy was a piece of shit.  

"Well, if you change your mind, let me know." Lonnie shrugged and followed me out the door, shutting it behind us.

"Not likely," I grunted under my breath. 

"If you need more or change your mind about Laura, you know where to find me." He reminded me as he disappeared down the stairs. 

I pushed open the cracked door to Laura's room, not sure what to expect.  I didn't want to run into Lonnie's sister and have to fight her off, but I needed a tiny bump before I left to go back home.  I couldn't waste another goddamned minute sobering up. 

Laura wasn't in her room, but she did have a fuck ton of syringes strewn all over the place like a horror movie.  Most of them were used, charred, with splotches of dried blood at the tip.

Fuck, I wasn't sharing needles with Pimp Daddy and his whore sister.  She had to have some clean ones stashed someplace.

I carefully dug around in the girl's room to avoid coming into contact with the hidden sharps.  One tiny prick of the wrong one could force me down a worse path than I was already on.  My compulsion to use outweighed the risk of catching something in the room.  Dying of some incurable malady still felt less dangerous than leaving here with an unmedicated mind. 

A few minutes into my search, I discovered a shoe box shoved between a white plastic table and Laura's bare mattress on the floor.  I opened the lid and found a handful of needles and everything else I would need for my jumpstart. I pulled out the needles and studied them, looking for any evidence they had been used.  They were still sealed in their medical-grade sterilized packaging.  It didn't mean they hadn't been tampered with, but it wasn't like I had many options. If I wanted the reward, I was going to have to chance the threat that went along with it. 

Fuck it.

I had nothing to lose at this point.

Feeling less than confident, I clutched the shoebox in my hand and left Laura's room to find a black hole for me to die in.  I followed the hall to the door Lonnie mentioned earlier and was thankful it was just as empty as he had promised.

But I was still anxious about what I was about to do. 

Sane or not, my nervous energy felt like a reasonable response to the vulnerable situation I chose to put myself in. Every other time I had shot up, Jake or one of our group was always there as a safety net in case something went wrong.  It felt strange doing this alone tonight, and I wished my beautiful blond was next to me. I wanted Riley to hold my hand to take the fear away. I wanted her to tell me everything would work out for us in the end.

Fuck, I needed her right now more than ever. The emptiness inside me hurt so fucking bad.

It wasn't like Riley's presence would change the outcome if I got ahold of something bad or took a little too much.  Twenty people sat around and watched my cousin Mandy shoot up and OD on the same shit I was about to inject into my veins. I just let it happen and didn't even try to stop it.  It wasn't until I held onto Mandy while she convulsed on the floor, choking on her own vomit, that I realized how much danger the little bag in my hand held.

But I yearned for it to flood my system and help me breathe again—without the anger, sadness, or bitterness that my existence wrought.  I just wanted to feel normal for a little bit until I sorted my shit out with Riley.  I could stop again the second she let me back in. 

I could stop.

I had done it before.

I would stop—for her. 

As soon as Riley came back to me, I would give it all up again. 

I shut the door behind me and went to the only chair in the room to sit down. It was a terrible purplish-blue color with a high back. The damn thing was covered in mold and sounded like it was going to turn into sawdust the moment it took the full weight of my body. The only good thing about it was the armrests which helped prop me up into the perfect position for the main event.

My hands started moving on their own accord, recalling the motions I had long thought I had forgotten.  My muscle memory overtook everything, urging me forward with renewed excitement. I set up the contents of my box like I was preparing to go on stage to play.  It felt as easy and familiar as playing a G chord on nylon strings. 

Who knew shooting yourself up was like riding a fucking bike? Once you have done it, then you never forget. Sure, you might scrape up your knees in the process, but the bruises that led to the high were worth it. 

My hands shook as I tied the rubber around my arm and tightened it until my fingers started to go numb. The anticipation of the first full syringe full was almost better than when the poison kicked in. 

A calm relief engulfed me when I finally found the vein and slid the needle in. 

I pushed the liquid forward, emptying every drop inside the syringe under my skin.  My whole arm was on fire and I had to fight against the desire to rip the flesh off until the sting slowly dissipated. 

My tongue darted out and I licked my lips, fiddling with my lip ring as the aftertaste of my addiction flooded my mouth. The release felt so fucking good it had me hard immediately.  Lost in my pleasure, I slid my hand inside my waistband to palm my dick.

I closed my eyes, letting my sickness win again.