Page 5 of Ice
Lissa
Icouldalreadytellthathe was going to be as resistant as possible, just because he didn’t want to be here. Don’t get me wrong, nobody wants to be counselled through their struggle to fight addiction, but he looked ready to bolt, before we’d even started.
I led him into my office, and gestured to the sofa in the corner. My armchair was opposite, and I waited until he took a seat before I sat in front of him.
“Water?” I poured a glass and passed it to him, and he just stared at it, both hands cupped around the plastic glass.
“Does it seriously help? Why does everyone keep offering me fucking water?” I sat back, and watched him for a moment. He was lost in thought, and wasting his chance to talk things out.
He was attractive. Probably around my age, or maybe younger. It was hard to tell with addicts, because their faces often showed evidence of their struggles, and the toll drugs had taken on them. It aged people faster. I knew that from personal experience. It was part of my reason for doing the job I’d chosen.
“You don’t need to drink it, Mr Silver. May I call you Damon?”
He shrugged, setting the drink down on the coaster. He wasn’t dressed like a biker, but the man with him had been. He’d worn one of those leather waistcoats with the patches on. The way they interacted with each other told me they were likely both in the same club.
“So, who forced you to come here today?” I smiled when he looked at me, shock crossing his face.
“How did you know?”
I carefully crossed my legs, making sure I didn’t flash him, even though a tiny part of me almost wanted to. What the hell was that about?
“Nobody ever wants to be here, Mr… Damon. It’s just something that needs to happen, for you to come to terms with what’s happened so far, and how you build a future, without the chemical assistance.”
“Chemical assistance. Why don’t you just call it what it is? Drugs. Fucking dependence. I know what I am.” His tone was bitter, and he was glaring at me.Even angry, he was incredibly attractive. I wasn’t supposed to focus on that. It was unprofessional. His hair was a light greyish blonde, and looked like he’d pulled at it a lot. It was spiky, but looked strangely soft too, like it would feel nice on my fingers.
“Addiction usually happens for a reason, Damon. Whatever it was that first led you to try drugs as a solution, or a form of self-medicating, that’s the underlying issue that you might need to work on. But let’s get real here. Drug withdrawal is nasty. How long have you been clean?”
He grimaced, leaning back on my sofa, and glancing around the small office. It was painted in light shades, with dark furniture, and soothing paintings on the walls. Scenery. Beautiful places. Calming things. His eyes paused briefly on each picture, before he finally met my eyes again. I was used to it. Avoidance was a classic trick when people were trying to waste the time allotted to them.
“Three long fucking weeks. Actually… I was… I wasn’t conscious for some of it, so it should feel like less, but it doesn’t. It feels like forever, and yet I can remember how it feels to function at that level the drugs kept me at. Like it was yesterday. Like it was an hour ago, and I’m just fucking sinking into hell. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you want me to detail how every fucking inch of me is aching. Painful. Like I’ve been…ohwait, like I’ve been stabbed. I didn’t tell you that bit. It’s a lovely story. Boy meets bastard with knife, and wakes up from a coma a week later. Oh… and some other bastards thought it was their place to put him through fucking detox at that time.”
He was trying to shock me, or upset me, but it wasn’t working. Wait… no, it was working, but not for the reasons he expected. It upset me that someone had hurt him in that way. It made me want to hold him. My god, I’m verging on inappropriate behaviour. I needed to rein in that part of me that found him endearing, and vulnerable, and… yes, dammit…hot.
Four
Atleastshewasnice to look at. At least in this fucking perfect little office, in this perfect little building, there was some eye candy for me. Plus it helped that her prissy little hairdo had let loose several coils of red hair. Mind you, even those were perfect. Like everything around her was fucking perfect. She was watching me too closely, like she saw everything I felt. Everything I thought. It was terrifying. Meeting her eyes was almost impossible for me, because she’d see.She’d know.
“You do understand that everything you say to me stays between us, right? You can talk freely here, Damon. You can tell me what’s racing around your mind. What keeps you awake at nights. What makes you desperate to go back to your old life. Talking through those things might help you to see where you can make small changes, or improvements. Maybe make each day a little easier for you.”
Something about her annoyingly calm voice made me want to rile her up. Make her angry, or frustrated. Anything to get rid of that damn even tone of hers. Hell… I’d settle for any noises shemight make, other than this particular know-it-all, I’m-better-than-you, tone. What the hell did she even know about what I was going through?
“Listen, lady-”
“Doctor. Dr Chase.”
There it is. A slight snippy note in her voice. It was actually pretty hot.
“Doctor… what’s your first name?”
She quirked a brow. “You don’t need my first name, Damon. Or is that the issue? Should I call you Mr Silver instead?”
Jesus. I dragged my hands down my face with frustration.
“Ice. My fucking name is ICE. Nobody calls me anything else anymore.”
She tilted her head. “So youarea biker? That’s your road name?”
She wore some prissy office outfit, and thought she knew anything about a member of an MC? Sitting there with her white blouse, open just enough that I could see the curve of the top of a breast from this angle. That grey skirt, just above the knee. Really it was like a slutty office worker outfit. It’d probably give me a boner, if I wasn’t losing my fucking mind here.
