Released
Caged: Book 3
By Shay Savage
Copyright © 2015 Shay Savage
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations
Editing : Chayasara
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems-except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in review or critical writings without the express permission of the author, Shay Savage.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1—Lose the Control
Chapter 2—Seek the Help
Chapter 3—Reveal the Past
Chapter 4—Make the Promise
Chapter 5—Write the List
Chapter 6—Hit the Bottom
Chapter 7—Swallow the Pride
Chapter 8—Make the Apology
Chapter 9—Start the Healing
Chapter 10—Face the Reality
Chapter 11—Ask the Question
Chapter 12—Tie the Knot
Chapter 13—Visit the Grave
Chapter 14—Release the Pressure
Chapter 15—Change the Scenery
Chapter 16—Choose the Name
Chapter 17—Make the Choice
Chapter 18—Relocate the Belongings
Chapter 19—Face the Music
Chapter 20—Be the Man
Chapter 21—Realize the Family
Epilogue—Embrace the Destiny
Author’s Notes
More Books by Shay Savage
About the Author
Chapter 1—Lose the Control
In my head, there was nothing.
No want, no need, no pain.
I was just…happy.
Why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t have any reason to feel sad. If fact, everything was fine. The sun was shining through the window and over the part of the couch where my legs were draped—warm and soft. The light danced around on my skin. I could feel it intensely, but it wasn’t harsh or burning. I stared at it with a big smile on my face as the rays crept up my thighs and then spilled over my stomach.
Everything was different this time. When I had relapsed before, there was all this guilt and withdrawal. Not this time. This time, there wasn’t any downside. I wasn’t junk sick in the morning. I’d even worked last night. I fought. I won. I earned enough cash to cover next month’s rent and more junk. Yolanda didn’t even notice I was high.
I was pretty sure it was last night anyway. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
When recent memories briefly flashed through my mind, I could push them away easily. Even images of Tria’s hair around her shoulders and the way she smelled when I had held her tightly against my chest were easy to ignore.
Everything we had done together no longer mattered. The memories of the dinners she had cooked for us, the walks we had taken to the little tree, and the way she’d run her fingers through my hair were irrelevant. It didn’t matter that she had been so beautiful, so sweet, and so accepting of me.
It didn’t matter that I’d screwed up in the most profound of ways. It didn’t matter that I’d put her life in danger—something I swore I’d never do to another woman—and that I’d run out on her when she told me she was pregnant. Tria’s stubbornness and lack of understanding about the danger she was in didn’t matter. Coming back to the apartment and realizing that she had left me didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except the next fix.
I blinked, and the room was dark.
Rolling over, I dropped to the floor on my hands and knees, snickered to myself, and stood up. There was still a bit of smack left on the kitchen table. I grabbed a new needle and got everything prepared. I was going to have to run out and get some more before too long. What I had wasn’t going to last more than another day.
Tingling in my arm started as soon as I pulled out the needle. The sensation rippled up to my shoulder and then focused itself in the center of my chest before radiating outward. Peace filled my mind and my limbs. I raised my arms and tilted my head back. The dingy, off-white ceiling was beautiful—like eggshells. I wondered if baby chicks would fall out if I broke through it.
My own laugher echoed through the empty room.
*****
“Come on, Max!”
“I told ya, dude—no handouts.”
“It’s not a handout!” I grabbed hold of my hair and tugged on it a bit. I was starting to get shaky. “It’s just…a little time. That’s all I need. Cut me some slack. I work tonight, and I’ll have the cash for you then. I’ll have enough for now and more for later, too.”
“No can do, bud.”
“Motherfucker!” I stormed out of the run-down shack and decided to walk all the way to Feet First. I didn’t have any money for bus fare, and even if I did, I wouldn’t waste it. I had more important things to buy.
I kept my head focused on the ground in front of me. I counted steps and tried to ignore the way my stomach cramped up. If Max had just given me a quick, tiny fix, I would have been fine. Now I was going to have to try to work like this.
“You’re late!” Yolanda started yelling at me as soon as I walked in the door. “It’s fucking challenge night! You were supposed to be here an hour ago so people could size you up!”
I did my best to ignore her. I shoved past her without a word and locked the locker room door behind me so I could change. Yolanda knocked a couple times, yelled a few choice words through the crack, and then gave up.
I breathed deeply as I stood on the concrete ramp in my taped-up feet. I stretched my arms a little, and tried not to let the screams from the crowd echo through my head too much. They were so loud. When my song came on, the noise got even worse.
My head was pounding.
The first challenger was young and small. I took him down quickly, though he did manage to get a good blow to my jaw before he hit the floor. The second guy wasn’t much better, but he danced around a lot. I had to move fast to keep up with him.
All I could think about was how much smack I could buy for every win. I had to get enough to last me through Friday, but after defeating the first two challengers, I was tired. So fucking tired. My head felt heavy, and I could barely lift my arms by the time the third fighter entered the cage.
I watched Yolanda walk out of the cage. Apparently, I kept looking in her direction too long. I took a blow to the head before I realized the fight had started.
I stumbled back, shook my head, and regained my footing. I raised my fists up in front of my face, and danced lightly on my toes, waiting for his next move. We circled slowly, jabbing but not finding our marks. My head swam again.
I needed to put an end to this. I needed to get it over with so I could take my winnings and get more smack. I had come down too hard and too fast. I had to get straight again.
I rushed him, striking out with my right and then my left. I took an elbow to the face, and felt my neck snap back.
The next thing I knew, I was on my back, and the guy was straddling my chest. I registered my head being thrown from side to side with punches, but I couldn’t focus enough to get him off me. I jabbed at his sides, but it was ineffective.
With my head spinning, I slammed my hand against the ground three times.
“Woo hoo!” The challenger jumped off of me and started running around the small cage.
I could hear cheers, boos, and people screaming at me, but I couldn’t comprehend the words. I rolled over and pushed myself up before stumbling out of the cage.
“Jesus, Liam!?
?? Back in the locker room, Yolanda fussed around the cut over my eye and my bloody lip as I tried to push her hands away and get my jeans back on. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”
“Just forget it!” I yelled. “I need to get going.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that? You got nothing waiting for you at home.”
I pulled my shoulders close together and bit down on the pad of my thumb. I didn’t remember telling Yolanda about Tria leaving, but apparently I had. I was afraid to open my mouth now. I tensed every muscle to keep myself from trembling. If Yolanda noticed, she’d figure out why.
If she figured it out, she’d stop me.
Is that such a bad thing?
Yes, most definitely.
I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t have Yolanda knowing what I was doing and dragging me somewhere to clean up. She would take back the cash she’d just given me, and I’d be royally fucked. I couldn’t let that happen.
“I gotta go,” I said again. I shouldered past her and out the door, ignoring her calls after me. I didn’t stop at the bar or acknowledge the fans around me as I left.
I took the cash I’d earned to Max and traded it for all the heroin I could get. I returned to my apartment and banged up.
Bliss.
Everything was perfect.
*****
I reached out and touched the edge of the pillow. It was insanely soft and warm. I stroked it, and images of Tria’s breasts crawled through my head, making me smile. I stroked my cock as I thought about her, but I couldn’t come.
I could hear a voice in the other room, but it didn’t concern me, so I didn’t move. Through heavy eyelids, I watched the piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. I found shapes of animals in the patterns, just like cloud pictures.
“The beans are gone.”
I rolled my head to the side and looked up at Krazy Katie’s face. I smiled and tried to say something, but my tongue wasn’t cooperating. I focused on her eyes as they stared down at me quizzically.
“Trains need an engineer,” Krazy Katie said.
“It’s okay,” I said. My tongue still felt weird, all numb and heavy. I twisted it around in my mouth, and it tickled my teeth. I blinked a couple of times before looking back at my neighbor. “I got the helm. I’m all good.”
Did trains have a helm, or was that just boats? I laughed.
Krazy Katie covered her eyes with one hand. I could see her chest rising and falling as she took long breaths. I started counting slowly in my head but quickly forgot the number.
“Left the station,” she said quietly. “No engineer. Kicked in the caboose. Nothing but tracks.”
She turned in slow motion, and I watched vapor trails of her dull blue T-shirt swirl around the room as she left. I heard the window slide shut and then silence.
“I’m all good,” I whispered.
There was no reply.
Even though my arms and legs were way too content to be bothered with moving, I shoved myself out of bed anyway. My rig was sitting on the kitchen table, all ready to go. I was still pretty high, but I could feel darkness closing in around me, and I didn’t want it.
I wanted warmth and happiness.
Plastic tube, arm slap, needle prick.
“Like a fucking pro.”
I lay my head on the table as the fluid sensations rippled through me. Tria didn’t matter. She’d forgive me in time. In fact, she was probably already over it. How could she not be?
“I’m good. Really, I am.”
I was never one to lie to myself, but it was getting easier all the time.
Chapter 2—Seek the Help
My throat was dry, and I knew I should probably get myself a drink or something, but getting up to go to the cabinet with the cups and the sink with the water seemed like a shitload of effort. My legs were killing me, and my stomach hurt. I couldn’t manage to lie down comfortably any more—I was too damn hot—but sitting and standing didn’t feel good, either.
I had forgotten how shitty I would feel after coming down from a bang.
“There’s a damn good way of fixing that shit,” I muttered. “Get it? Fixing? Ha!”
Everything was still lying out on the table from the day before. I hauled myself onto the chair and grabbed the rig cap and the cup of water I had used to mix the heroin to prepare it for the needle. I’d gone through all the needles I bought from Max. I should probably go find the weird religious dude who always hung out by the food bank offering clean needles, but that was too fucking far away.
Maybe later.
The needle I had was only used by me, anyway. I did haul my ass over to the sink to wash it out a bit better, at least. I even made myself take a sip of water though it tasted nasty.
Back at the table, I looked over the paraphernalia and tried not to let myself feel physically ill from the familiarity. It was so fucking easy to go back to this—too easy. Quick stop at Max’s place, throw down the cash I had, come on back here, and forget the world around me. Money was already an issue, but there were ways of dealing with that, too.
I remembered the chick on the couch with Max and her offers of fellatio for a quick hit. He’d take her up on it, too. I knew for a fact he went both ways but refused to think about or remember anything like that. I ran my tongue over my dry lips and swallowed back the taste in my throat before going back to my task.
I got the needle set up to go, wrapped my arm, and positioned the tip at the vein.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I swallowed again—hard. The end of the needle lay against my arm, and I felt the slight sting as it started to pierce the skin. My breath came out in short pants as I clenched my fist, forcing the vein up.
“She’d hate this.”
I grabbed the needle and slammed it down on the kitchen table before dropping my head into my hands. I was fucking talking to myself, and if that didn’t make me crazy, I wasn’t sure what did. My stomach burned and my hands started shaking. I wanted to throw up but knew I wouldn’t be able to.
“I don’t want to feel like this,” I heard myself whisper. “I don’t want to feel anything.”
A weird sound came out of my throat, but I didn’t know what it meant.
“Bang it—perfection awaits.”
I started to reach for the needle again, but I paused for a second.
“It always ends.”
I shoved myself back from the table, half-walked, half-stumbled to the bedroom, dropped most of my clothes to the floor, and fell into bed. I wrapped my arms around my head and buried my face into the mattress. I wanted to just melt into it—disappear into the blankets and pillows forever—but instead, I turned my head to the side and stared at the window.
Though I didn’t recall having gone to sleep, I must have dozed off because I was suddenly engulfed in her scent. My eyes flew open, and my heart leapt with hope, but my arms were only filled with Tria’s pillow.
I was still alone in the bed.
Hugging the pillow to me, I buried my nose in the fabric and inhaled deeply. My legs throbbed, and my eyes burned, but I squeezed them shut and tried to blank it all out. I knew how to do that—I was good at it. I’d practiced forcing unpleasant thoughts from my head for years. If it got worse, there was already a needle ready for me in the other room.
Rolling over, I grabbed her pillow and tossed it to the other side of the room where it landed on top of all the dirty laundry. I mentally smacked myself for thinking about how much better going to the laundromat had been with Tria to go with me and turned over to face the window again. I liked the empty black pane as it looked out onto the night.
Another large breath helped clear my nose of her scent—sort of—and I closed my eyes to try to go to sleep again. This shouldn’t be that hard. I’d done all this before. I was an expert at shutting out everything and everyone around me. Being alone was nothing new.
In fact, I preferred it—always had. That was why every time I fucked a girl in the past, I always wen
t home right afterwards. It was always better that way because I didn’t want them to end up too clingy. That’s what I should have done with…with her in the first place. I could go back to that again—no problem.
And Tria could go back to…what?
A brand new sense of panic came over me, and my mind no longer seemed willing to block anything out.
Financially, Tria had been almost completely dependent on me. Yeah, she had a part-time job, but it wasn’t enough for her to be able to afford rent on her own place. She still had a few weeks left before her first year of school was over. She had nowhere to live, no steady income to speak of, and she was pregnant.
And alone.
I shook my head and clenched my teeth.
She wouldn’t have to stay alone, though. She was intelligent and beautiful, and she could probably capture the heart of the first guy she ran into on campus. There were a lot of them out there, and a sob story like hers about her asshole, junkie boyfriend knocking her up was bound to call to one of them. Hoffman was pretty much known for only choosing the highest quality applicants to go to school there, so there was hardly a dud in the whole bunch. She’d have someone good to take care of her and the baby.
My baby.
I swallowed down bile.
Some other guy was going to end up with her, raising my child. She might even give it to Nikki and Brandon, and the baby would grow up in that little town, dragging lobsters out of traps.
“No!”
I sat straight up.
“No fucking way!” I yelled out into the dark, empty room. “No fucking way is my kid going to grow up in that fucked-up loony bin! No one’s gonna raise my kid but me!”
I jumped out of the bed, yanked on my sweatpants and boots, and ran out of the house. My feet pounded the cement as I ran for the bus stop, realized that at four in the morning it was going to be at least an hour before another bus came by going the right way, and took off running again. Even with a lot slower run than I usually managed, I made it to the subway in less than ten minutes.
The security guy gave me a bit of a look, like maybe he recognized me from the other day, but he was going to let me on until I realized I didn’t have any money on me. I yelled a bit, but it wasn’t helping, so I ran back out to the street and hiked my way to the other side of downtown. I ran the last four blocks in the early morning drizzle. The hospital loomed in front of me.