Page 32 of Omega Untamed
“I recommend a cool shower.”
I peeked out from under my arm, watching him turn away. This was only day four and I was in withdrawal. I feared things would only get worse before they got better.
I wasn’t wrong. Bast had been gone over a day, but he’d brought dinner and I couldn’t face eating a thing. I lay on the couch like a dead thing, thinking about my churning stomach, and how there was nothing left in it but the pill and the water I’d taken it with, but I still wanted to throw up, badly.
I lost all track of time. I heard Bast walking about the apartment. Once, he said to me, “Wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable?”
I figured he wanted the couch so he could watch some TV. I didn’t answer.
When night came, it got very dark, and I wondered if the electricity had gone out because there were no lights. It was so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I realized, finally, my eyes were tightly shut. And I was moaning.
Arms came beneath me and I was lifted into the air. Great. Maybe I would get some help. The hospital? But no, that wouldn’t happen. I had the faint memory, through my fever, that I wasn’t allowed to be seen.
I still couldn’t open my eyes. I had the strangest sensation that I was falling apart into a thousand pieces, my arms and legs flopping, my head lolling. My legs bumped into something. I heard a low curse. Water running.
Then I was set into a tub of cool water with my drawstring pants still on. They clung everywhere to my skin, clumping, bugging me. I strained to open my eyes.
Light hit them with a fierce power, like needles stabbing my eye sockets all at once. I cried out. I felt my body thrash in the water. I smelled something like vinegar, then something sweet, like fruit juice. The bandages on my hand and foot became soaked through.
Strong hands held me down. I was fighting him? I didn’t mean to. My body and mind simply weren’t aligned. I felt my knees bend and the bottoms of my feet slip along the tub’s porcelain bottom.
But the water lapped cool against my hot skin. It encompassed me, contained me. I found myself eventually relaxing as a steady stream poured in from the faucet, making the level rise all around me, steady, brisk, invigorating.
My eyes adjusted a bit to the bright light and I saw the dark form of Bast leaning over the tub, over me, intent on keeping me submerged but aloft, holding me in place with one hand behind my neck.
I blinked away fever tears. I knew how to make it all stop. Just a little bit of steam would do it. A tiny bit. Just to take the edge off.
“I need.” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes, I know,” came the short reply. Like he was mad. But then he always sounded like that.
“Just a tiny amount of steam and I’ll be okay.”
“Uh huh.”
Bastard!
“I swear, just a little and that’s it. Please!” I heard myself as if from far away, begging for my drugs. I knew it was pathetic, but what did I care? That was what I wanted. I was an adult. I could do what I wanted with my life. I had no prospects. Why not spend it high?
“I don’t have any on hand. Sorry.”
He did not sound one bit sorry!
“You can get it, though. Your boss is the supplier.”
“Uh huh.” He held me down as I thrashed and a wave of water came up over the lip of the tub and splashed onto his black shirt.
“Fuck!” I tipped my head back. Everything hurt so much. The water was nice, but not enough. “I’ll blow you for it. I swear. I’m really good.”
“I’m sure you would. And are. But. No.” Calm. That voice. Too fucking calm.
I started to cry.
“That won’t work,” he said.
What an asshole! I was so fucked.
Hands cupped water over my brow and it trickled into my hair. Then, to my surprise, Bast began to wash my hair, combing his fingers through it gently, the soap slipping against my brow and my scalp. The action sent tingles throughout my body. The good feelings started to counteract the bad just enough that I could stop blubbering and start breathing deep again, start to let my body relax.
