Read Online My Rock #4 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #4) by Alycia Taylor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alycia Taylor
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him.
He was already gone.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
TRISTAN
After the show I went straight back to the rehab. It
was part of the deal that I’d made with them; no lags in between. They made me
pee in a cup every time I came back, anyways, just to make sure. It wasn’t a
big deal since I was starting to feel better. Every little thing didn’t annoy
me like it had the first several days I was getting the shit out of my system. What
was bothering me that night, was that kiss.
Our duet had been fucking awesome. Elly was an amazing singer and our voices sounded great
together. I’d gotten so caught up in that, and the lyrics…fuck, the truth was I
kissed her because I wanted to and I actually felt it that time. She was in my
head and making me feel all kinds of things that I didn’t want to feel. I
didn’t need anyone, and I didn’t want to need anyone emotionally. I was pissed
off at myself for letting her get to me.
I knew she was different since that first night—it
was what had drawn me to her in the first place. I wanted her to feel the
things I was doing to her. I wanted to see and feel her response, but I didn’t
want to let her in my head…and that’s right where she was. It was as if I’d
traded in my addiction for a different kind and that just pissed me off.
I couldn’t sit still in my little room so I got up
and paced the halls. They had the television on in the dayroom and there was a clip
of Elly and I playing as I walked by. I stopped and
watched it; we looked damn good together and we sounded even better.
There was some tweaker chick sitting on the couch and when she looked up and saw me she said, “Shit!
That’s you!” I started to walk away and I heard her say, “Is she your
girlfriend?”
I looked back up at the screen…at Elly’s face. My girlfriend? Fuck no! I didn’t do
girlfriends. I just walked away and ignored her. It was none of her business
either way. I went out onto the patio. The night was cool as the weather was
starting to change. I wondered what I would do about my apartment if I didn’t
win…or if I got disqualified for singing with Elly .
Damn it! I wished I could make my mind still. I knew
that I could. I wasn’t a prisoner there. I could sign myself out and go score
some weed. That would calm me down. Of course, they probably wouldn’t let me
back in if I just left, and if they did, they’d make me piss in a cup and kick
me out anyways.
Shit! I hated it. I wanted to call Elly , but it was too late to use the phone. I hated where
I’d put myself and I hated that I had no idea where I was going from there. I
guessed that was the kind of shit my therapist wanted me to talk about. I didn’t
see the point, though; I could talk about it until I was blue in the face—wouldn’t
change a fucking thing. I was the only one who could change anything. Thinking
I only had myself to depend on, was a depressing thought. I’d done a fucking
bang up job so far.
I finally went back to my room. It took hours for me
to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanted
something…anything. It wasn’t a physical craving any more. It was mental. I
wanted to feel numb again; feeling shit was for the birds.
I got woke up the next day by a loud knock on my
door. It was the nurse with my pills. They gave me something that took away the
cravings for the opiates. They had something new; they didn’t use methadone
like they used to. I used to like the methadone—if I’d cheek it and then take
it all at once later on, it was almost as good as a speed-ball. Probably why
they stopped using it—they figured that out. The shit they gave me was called Suboxone . It worked, my body wasn’t feeling that physical
need for the drugs…but it didn’t make me high, or numb.
After I took my pills and had breakfast, I went to
my appointment with my therapist. I had almost convinced myself that I was
going to open up to him that day. But, I knew that was just going to make
He was already gone.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
TRISTAN
After the show I went straight back to the rehab. It
was part of the deal that I’d made with them; no lags in between. They made me
pee in a cup every time I came back, anyways, just to make sure. It wasn’t a
big deal since I was starting to feel better. Every little thing didn’t annoy
me like it had the first several days I was getting the shit out of my system. What
was bothering me that night, was that kiss.
Our duet had been fucking awesome. Elly was an amazing singer and our voices sounded great
together. I’d gotten so caught up in that, and the lyrics…fuck, the truth was I
kissed her because I wanted to and I actually felt it that time. She was in my
head and making me feel all kinds of things that I didn’t want to feel. I
didn’t need anyone, and I didn’t want to need anyone emotionally. I was pissed
off at myself for letting her get to me.
I knew she was different since that first night—it
was what had drawn me to her in the first place. I wanted her to feel the
things I was doing to her. I wanted to see and feel her response, but I didn’t
want to let her in my head…and that’s right where she was. It was as if I’d
traded in my addiction for a different kind and that just pissed me off.
I couldn’t sit still in my little room so I got up
and paced the halls. They had the television on in the dayroom and there was a clip
of Elly and I playing as I walked by. I stopped and
watched it; we looked damn good together and we sounded even better.
There was some tweaker chick sitting on the couch and when she looked up and saw me she said, “Shit!
That’s you!” I started to walk away and I heard her say, “Is she your
girlfriend?”
I looked back up at the screen…at Elly’s face. My girlfriend? Fuck no! I didn’t do
girlfriends. I just walked away and ignored her. It was none of her business
either way. I went out onto the patio. The night was cool as the weather was
starting to change. I wondered what I would do about my apartment if I didn’t
win…or if I got disqualified for singing with Elly .
Damn it! I wished I could make my mind still. I knew
that I could. I wasn’t a prisoner there. I could sign myself out and go score
some weed. That would calm me down. Of course, they probably wouldn’t let me
back in if I just left, and if they did, they’d make me piss in a cup and kick
me out anyways.
Shit! I hated it. I wanted to call Elly , but it was too late to use the phone. I hated where
I’d put myself and I hated that I had no idea where I was going from there. I
guessed that was the kind of shit my therapist wanted me to talk about. I didn’t
see the point, though; I could talk about it until I was blue in the face—wouldn’t
change a fucking thing. I was the only one who could change anything. Thinking
I only had myself to depend on, was a depressing thought. I’d done a fucking
bang up job so far.
I finally went back to my room. It took hours for me
to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanted
something…anything. It wasn’t a physical craving any more. It was mental. I
wanted to feel numb again; feeling shit was for the birds.
I got woke up the next day by a loud knock on my
door. It was the nurse with my pills. They gave me something that took away the
cravings for the opiates. They had something new; they didn’t use methadone
like they used to. I used to like the methadone—if I’d cheek it and then take
it all at once later on, it was almost as good as a speed-ball. Probably why
they stopped using it—they figured that out. The shit they gave me was called Suboxone . It worked, my body wasn’t feeling that physical
need for the drugs…but it didn’t make me high, or numb.
After I took my pills and had breakfast, I went to
my appointment with my therapist. I had almost convinced myself that I was
going to open up to him that day. But, I knew that was just going to make
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