Page 76 of Desperate Haste

And for the first time since losing Marshall, for the first time probably in my life, I cry. Hearing him say the words breaks the dam inside of me that has been holding back all my pent up emotions and frustrations, causing them to burst out of me. My head falls into my hands as the sobs rip through me and I feel nothing but shame and guilt for what I’ve done.

“Yeah, I really fucking know.”

39

MALCOM

The last forty-eight hours have been brutal as my body starts to go through withdrawal. After taking me back to his place, Kolbi set me up in his guest room and told me I’d be staying with him until we decided what the next steps would be. He and the guys sat me down in his living room and waited for me to tell them everything. It took me two hours to get it all out—from the first time I used again back in the middle of March to how I had been taking three or four pills a day just to keep up. They wouldn’t let me sleep until I told them where it all was and then promised that they would be turning my apartment, truck, and the bar upside down to make sure I wasn’t hiding any that I hadn’t told them about. When Magnolia didn’t come home after a few hours, I asked Kolbi where she was.

“She’s, uhh, she’s staying with Bailey and Ophelia. They’re all over at Ophelia’s place.” Just hearing her name makes me want to lay down in the middle of the Ravenel Bridge and let morning traffic take me out like I deserve.

For the next two days my body begins to purge and detox all the shit I’d put into it over the last eight weeks. I sleep through most of the weekend, but when I’m awake, I feel every single ounce of amphetamine leaving my body. Everything hurts. I can’t stop sweating. I want to eat anything I can get my hands on and quickly feel like I’m going to puke once I do. And everything annoys the absolute fuck out of me. Once Monday morning rolls around, I think I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind. The desire to sneak out when no one is looking to go buy something that will take off the edge is strong, but I know I won’t get very far. Anytime I come out of my room, there is always someone around who has eyes on me. Whether it’s one of my friends or Kolbi’s ever present housekeeper, I never move more than half an inch without someone watching my every move.

Since I’m not allowed to leave the house or go anywhere while I’m detoxing, I have a lot of time to think. And most of that time is filled with thinking about how much I fucked up something that could have been really good. Losing Marshall has pulled me apart at the seams but as my brain starts to come out of the drug-induced haze I’ve hidden myself in, I realize that it isn’t the loss of him that broke me. It was my own incessant need to try and be perfect for everyone around me. It was my own self-sabotaging desire to never let anyone down and to live beyond their expectations. Just like I had when I was in school, I literally sunk my own battleship by being my own worst critic. Nothing I could do was enough and I had convinced myself that drugs were the answer to numbing that pain.

But to her, I’m enough.

And to my friends, I’m enough.

Even Marshall thought I was enough or else he wouldn’t have left me with Butcher and Block.

It isn’t that I’m not enough forthem, it’s that I’m not enough formyself.

And getting to the point where I believe my best is enough is going to take time and help.

A knock at the door grabs my attention. When I open it, I’m greeted by a hardly five-foot Black woman with a friendly smile and the lingering scent of sugar and butter wafting from her apron.

“Mr. Vesey asked me to come see if you’re awake. Your friends are downstairs waiting for you, Mr. Kacee.” She nods politely and her smile warms. I wonder what she thinks of me. Of this whole situation. There were a few times I awoke from an almost comatose state with her dabbing a damp cloth along my forehead, trying to help me break the fever that had come after not using for more than twenty-four hours. I was too incoherent to process the words, but if my memories are correct, she would sing to me as she did.

“Thank you, Ms. Ruthie. But I would really rather you call me Malcolm.”

“Malcolm,” she hums as her cheeks inflate and push into her eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re doin’ better. We were worried about you.”

“I’m sorry to have worried you. That wasn’t right of me to do.” I grab the back of my neck and can’t bring myself to look at her.

“Your friends love you. And that girl, she loves you a whole lot.” My head snaps to her as my eyes go wide.

“There was a girl here?”

“Ohh, yes. All weekend. Slept on the couch, poor thing. Mr. Vesey tried to take her home so she could sleep in her own bed, but she refused. Made a big scene about needing to make sure you were alright.” The old woman raised a brow at me. “Come now, it’s time to go downstairs.”

“I’ll be right there.” Once she’s gone, I quickly throw on a fresh shirt and some shorts that had been left on top of the dresser at some point while I was asleep. My eyes cinch together as I move due to the dull ache I can feel throughout my body. It feels as if every muscle is seizing up, refusing to move. Pushing out a heavy breath through my lips, I pull my hair back and tie it into a bun before heading downstairs to meet my friends who are waiting on me. My heart ticks anxiously as I descend down the stairs, anticipating what Ophelia might say when she sees me. But as I reach the bottom and walk into the living room, I feel it fall through my stomach when I realize she isn’t part of the group of people waiting on me.

Sitting in the living room are the three guys who have been here with me before. Hank may have been part of the conversation we’re about to have over video call last time, calling us from some unknown location in the middle of somewhere we weren’t allowed to know, but he was there. Sitting next to him this time is Bailey who’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand. Her other hand rests on Hank’s knee and is running her fingers forwards and back along the top of his leg. Kolbi and Magnolia are sitting on the couch, his arm over her shoulder, and next to them is Conrad, looking stiff and uncomfortable just like always. When I enter the room, everyone stands and looks at me.

“Look who’s up and alive.” Kolbi takes a step towards me and shakes my hand. Such a Kolbi thing to do. “For a minute there I thought I was going to have to hire a nurse to come and watch you. You okay?”

I nod my head and squeeze his hand. “I will be.”

“You look like shit,” Conrad scolds.

“I feel like shit.”

“I think that’s a little deserved after what you did,” Hank adds, pursing his lips. Their disappointment isn’t lost on me and the urge to bolt is strong. But I stand my ground. I deserve much worse than this for what I did to them. This is tame compared to what they could be doing.

“Trust me, I know.” I look around the room and towards the kitchen to make sure I’m not missing her. “I thought…I thought Ms. Ruthie said Ophelia was here?”

Bailey’s lips wrap around her teeth and her eyes flit between Hank and my other friends. She tucks a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear and finally brings her eyes to me. “She left already. She didn’t want to be a deciding factor.”

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