I walked the rest of the way home, kicking small rocks in front of me that clattered on the asphalt. My skin was crawling, and I was desperate for a hit. The urge boiled within me, and I knew that I was in for a rough night. A part of me just wanted to lay down on a bench and stare at the stars all night. Another part knew the danger of doing that. If I got home; if I could get some sleep, it would all be better in the morning. 

I had to focus on that--things could still turn out alright. I had a week, and that was ample of time to get some cash. Perhaps not in a legal way, but I knew how to bend my morals; I'd done it before. 

Wrapping the coat tighter around myself, I pushed forward. I had a goal, and that was to get home, crash on my bed and wake up like a new person in the morning. I would forget everything about the BDSM club, everything about Master Matthews, and everything about the lingering withdrawals. 

-----

Nothing felt better the next morning, even if I'd told myself last night that everything would be different. I was too aware of the coat slung casually across the sofa. I knew it was expensive, probably the most expensive thing in the entire apartment. Fencing it would perhaps bring in some cash, but not enough to cover my entire debt. Despite that, it felt like a burden--something forbidden. I didn't even want to touch it. 

Hours later, I still hadn't done anything about that coat. I was sitting in the same position as before, glaring at it. The sound of my phone brought me out of the daze. I picked it up from the table and stared at the name. 

I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to Lisa, but then again, I would rather speak with her than anyone else. 

"Yes," I said. 

"Good morning, Ethan. Just calling to see how you're doing."

She did that once in awhile, checking up on me. It was a part of the program; I just hadn't gotten used to it yet. I also hadn't come to terms with it. I couldn't decide if I hated the false affection or if I liked it. It was her job to call me, nothing else. 

"Good morning."

"So, how are you?" 

"I'm cool."

"I have a couple of hours to kill this afternoon. You up for a coffee?" 

She was good at it, I had to admit. She made it sound casual even if I knew it wasn't. She had me in her schedule for today. I'd searched through her notebook once when she went to the restroom. 

"I don't know," I replied. I didn't want to leave the apartment today. If I did, I knew I would look for someone to give me what I so desperately needed but couldn't have. 

"Don't be such a bore, Ethan."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are, let's go. I'll pick you up in an hour. I'll treat you."

I rolled my eyes. She could be persistent when she wanted to. 

"Okay."

"Much better. See you later." 

I cut the call without replying and closed my eyes. I can do this. I had to believe that I could, that was the most important part--at least that was what they'd taught me at the clinic. 

I was still sitting at the table when Lisa knocked on the door. I recognized the sound because she always knocked on time too many and too fast. Dispelling the stiffness in my joints from sitting so long, I got out of the chair and went over to the door. She beamed as I let her in, throwing herself around me in a bear-hug. 

"You're okay, thank heavens! You didn't sound too good on the phone." She squeezed me tighter and held onto the hug until I cleared my throat. 

Did she care? It certainly felt like it. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like an ingeniously worked out method to get me to trust someone who would ultimately betray me. 

"You have to go." I said it before I had finished the thought in my head. 

"Ethan!" She sounded astounded, affronted and a little bit annoyed. I thought it was quite impressive to cram in all of that in one word. I almost regretted my decision of trying to get her out, but this day really wasn't the day for this. I needed time, and I needed to be alone.

"I'm not up for this today, sorry."

"I can't force you, but really. You're being an idiot right now."

"Gee, thanks for telling me." I glared at her, but I knew that if it came to a staring contest, she'd win over me any day. Which was exactly what happened.

"You know I'm right, so let's just go."

"No." I tried to push her out of the apartment, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me with her instead.

"Oh, look, there's a coat. I'll get it for you." She glided past me into the apartment and got the coat from the sofa. She held it out in front of her, checking it out while a crease formed across her brow. "Is this your coat, Ethan?"

Refusing to answer, I went inside and ripped the coat from her hands.

"Don't touch it." I said, throwing it on the sofa again. 

"Why? Whose is it?"

"None of your business."

"Did you steal it?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

She huffed, put her arms across her chest and leaned backwards a bit. If she hadn't been way shorter than I, and in general, kinder than everyone else, I might have been afraid of her.  

"No, it's not, but I don't like the thought of you stealing things. I'd have to report it back, and I'd rather avoid that."

"I didn't steal it." 

"Is it yours?"

I rolled my eyes. It was a stupid question. "No, of course not." It was clear as day that it wasn't mine. It was too nice and too clean. 

"Then we'll go and give it back." 

"You can bring it back to him." It suddenly felt like a really good idea. If she returned it alone, I would be rid of two problems at once. I didn't want either her or the coat in the apartment, and I wouldn't have to meet with Master Matthews again. 

"Fine, give me the coat and the address."

The way she gave in so easily made me think that she had something up her sleeve, but I wasn't stupid enough to miss an opportunity like this. 

"You called him yesterday: Mr. Matthews. And for your information, I didn't steal it."

"Whatever. I'll come by afterwards."

"No."

"Pfft, you don't get to choose." She picked up the coat and exited out through the front door. 

She was gone so quickly that I just stood there, looking at the door and wondering what the hell happened. 

Knowing that she would be back sooner or later, I started to get nervous. It hit me hard and fast, like a surge of uneasiness that wouldn't give way. To dispel it, I sat down in the sofa and wrapped myself in a blanket. For the first time ever, I wished for a TV to distract me. I didn't have any valuable electronics in the apartment. They knew very well that I would try to fence it to get my drugs. 

I must have dozed off at some point because it seemed like too little time had passed until there was another knock on the door. Frowning, I got up, taking the blanket with me to hide my scars. I had a T-shirt on, and that wouldn't work to keep my arms out of sight.

Hesitantly, I opened the door, keeping the chain in place so no one could barge in. Luckily Sam didn't know where I lived, but one couldn't be too careful when you had crazy dealers hounding you.

With a gasp, I closed the door again. 

What the hell!

I wanted to kill Lisa with my bare hands. Why did she do this to me? 

Mr. Matthews knocked again. "Open the door, Ethan." His voice carried from the other side of the door, and it was enough to make me tremble like a leaf in a storm.