Page 75 of Desperate Haste

Without them, what’s the point of anything anyway?

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Half an hourand several hundred dollars later, it’s pouring down rain and I’m heading back to my truck. A small plastic bag is tucked between my fingers that I plan on opening once I’m in the safety of my own place and alone. Some people like to get high in a room full of people but I prefer to do it on my own time, in my own space. The paint chipped door swings open and I’m halfway down the front steps when I hear a voice calling out. It cuts across the sound of the rain splashing against the pavement and its signature Southern drawl is like a lighthouse in the night, guiding all the boats to safety.

“Ophie! Ophie, stop! What are you doing?” I hear Bailey scream, and when my eyes focus through the rain I see her stepping out of her car and looking across the street. I follow her line of sight and when I hit the end of it, I see her. She’s moving quickly across the soaked pavement, arms pumping as the rain soaks through her clothes. When she reaches the bottom of the steps, I descend to meet her.

Before I can apologize or say anything she raises her hand and strikes me hard across the face and I feel the sting throughout my entire body. The coolness of the rain only provides a momentary release and when I go to face her again, I can see her arm moving to hit me for a second time. Before she can slap me for a second time, I reach up and grab her wrist and pull her into me. We hold each other’s glare for a moment, nothing around us seems to move except for the rain that is hounding us from above. I’m not sure what I should say to her but notice that it’s not just her and Bailey who have come to track me down. Hank, Conrad, and Kolbi all get out of a car parked on the street and walk towards me. Another body steps out of the car Bailey is next to and I notice it’s Magnolia.

They’re all here.

They all know.

My head falls and water droplets drip off the ends of my long hair. I try to pull her hand to my lips as an apology but she rips her hand away from me before I can make contact.

“Don’t touch me,” she snaps. I can see that her bottom lip is quivering and she is fighting back tears. She’s trying to be tough, to be strong, just like she always is. Knowing that her pain is my fault nearly breaks me.

“I’m sorry?—”

“How could you do this?” she shouts at me before shoving me angrily. I see my three friends take a step closer to intervene if needed but honestly, I deserve everything she’s doing to me and more. “How could you do this to your friends? To yourself? How could you do this to me?” Her voice breaks and the rain mixes with her tears as she stands in front of me, totally defeated.

“Ophelia, I?—”

“No! Nothing you say can make this better. Nothing you do will make what you did okay. I hate you!” she screams at me and I lose my resolve.

“What the hell for?” I shout back, frustrated that I haven’t been given room to say anything or explain myself.

“Because you made me love you, you idiot!” Her hands fly around her face and her eyes are wild. “You made me love you even when I told myself I wouldn’t. Even when I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this again. That I wouldn’t fall in love again because when I do, I’m the one who gets hurt. But you made me fall in love with you and then you went and fucked it all up. And for what? For drugs? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Malcolm?” She shoves me again and is yelling at me through her sobs. The anger in her voice as she spits my name feels like getting sucker punched in the ring. The rain slows and the whole street seems quiet. She turns away from me, wiping her cheeks with the back of her soaked jacket sleeve before turning to look at me again.

“I’veneverbeen afraid of you. Not once. But back in my bedroom, when you were yelling at me, I was afraid of you then. I was afraid you were going to hurt me.” She shakes her head and licks her lips before wrapping them around her teeth.

“I can’t love another man who hurts me, Malcolm. I won’t do it. And you hurt me by doing this.” Her words feel like a knife to the chest. When her head falls and she starts to cry again, Bailey and Magnolia come up from behind her and guide her back to the car before I can say anything. As they cross the street, my friends approach me, each one with a different look on their faces.

“Let’s go, brother,” Kolbi says, planting a hard hand on my shoulder.

“Give me your keys.” Conrad holds out a hand and waits for me to place the keys to my truck in his palm.

“And give me your stash,” Hank demands.

I do as they say and pass my keys to Conrad and my stash to Hank. Kolbi has a hold of me as we watch him walk to the edge of the street where there’s a rail that overlooks the river that flows behind the house. With one solid throw, he chucks the contents of the bag into the water and turns around, scowling at me.

“You’re done with that shit.”

“We’ll see you back at my place, Conrad,” Kolbi instructs and Conrad nods his head. Hank, Kolbi and I get into his car as Conrad walks to my truck to follow us home.

When the doors shut behind us, Kolbi turns around to look at me.

“We’re getting you help. You can’t do this again.”

“I know.”

“If you were struggling, you should have said something. You know we would have helped you if you just asked.” Hank sighs.

“I know.”

There’s a silence in the car as we all sit in awkward discomfort. We’re all soaked to the bone from the rain that has slowed down to be nothing more than a drizzle. The faint sounds of the droplets hitting the windshield fill the SUV.

“You really fucked up, dude. Not just with us, but with her too,” Hank laments, glancing back at me from the front seat.

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