at the moment.
After I pay the driver and crane my neck looking up the length of his tall office building, I take a mental note to never buy another bottle of Highland Park. Pull your shit together. It’s a quick elevator ride up to the 17 th floor and as soon as the doors open, I spot his office.
Walking in, the décor is modern and there is no one behind the receptionist’s desk. Then Lawrence rounds the corner.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asks me.
“I’m good, just having some pain in there,” I respond following him back to an exam room.
“Let’s get an x-ray first,” he tells me. Right away I fear the worst. I know it’s not gonna show anything. But I’m here, so I let him do his thing.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” I tell him.
“It’s not a problem, I do what I can for my players. Let’s go in here,” he says after we are all done with the x-ray.
I sit on the exam table while he pulls the image up on his laptop. “Has it been bugging you before today?” I shake my head and then the image appears.
“Here we go. See here?” he says pointing at the screen. “You have an awful lot of scar tissue. That may explain why your knee may bother you and swell up at times, and it probably always will. But thankfully, nothing is torn or broken. I think you just tweaked it pretty good. I’m gonna give you a prescription for some Percocet. I think a few days of rest and by Monday, you should be good to return slowly. How does that sound?”
“It sounds great, Doc.” I keep my words short, in hopes that he doesn’t catch on to that fact that I am drunk.
“Good,” he says and signs a prescription. “Call me any time day or night if anything should worsen, okay?”
“Thank you.” I slowly get off of the table, making sure on my way out to limp.
As I head back down, I feel guilty. This is the same feeling I got when I first started to take pills. But deep down I know the benefits that they provide me. They did back when I lost Kinsey, and I know they’ll help now.
I wake to the sound of my phone ringing. My face is pressed into the carpet. I’m sprawled out, half-dressed, and can barely remember what I did last night. Maybe it was the alcohol. Fuck, no, it was the pills. Dammit, I cannot believe that I gave in the way that I did. My phone rings again. Maybe it’s Arion calling, so I will myself to get up, but then it stops and I let my body collapse against the floor.
As I glance around the house, everything is a mess. There are things broken and I know I got out of control last night. Then I turn my head to the right and next to me is a picture of Arion. It’s my favorite. She’s absolutely breathtaking in it. I took it when we were on vacation. She’s staring through a window, light eyes, messy hair, and nothing but love shines from her. That was when everything was different. Now, here I lay with nothing but a fucking picture to console me. Christ, my life is wrecked without her.
My body is so jacked up from sleeping on the floor. I don’t care what happens, I’m never taking pills again. I get up and my phone rings again. I spot it right away on the bed and pray that it is her. My heart is telling me that it is. I answer right away.
“Baby?”
“Bain?” My mother’s tone is broken, she almost sounds like she’s been drinking.
“Mom, is everything okay?”
“No, baby, it’s not. It’s really not.”
“What’s the matter? Why have you been calling me over and over?”
“I only called you once.”
She sniffles and I ask again, “What’s the matter, Mom?”
“That asshole took a plea deal.”
“What? For how long?”
“Not long enough, something crazy like twelve to twenty years.”
“Fuck,” I snap and sink to my knees, my back leaning against the frame of our bed. “That fucking asshole fucking killed her.”
“I know,” she says crying. “It’s not long enough.”
“Mom, it doesn’t matter what they sentenced him to,
Celine Roberts
Gavin Deas
Guy Gavriel Kay
Donna Shelton
Joan Kelly
Shelley Pearsall
Susan Fanetti
William W. Johnstone
Tim Washburn
Leah Giarratano