Marlin's Faith: The Virtues Book II (2 page)

“I’m going to get the water started, remember what we talked about?” I asked her.

“Some, not all,” she answered truthfully, “But if it’s the naked talk you’re talking about…” she trailed off and wouldn’t look at me.

I sighed, “Yeah, that would be the one.”

She nodded miserably, and my heart went out to her. This was a fuckin’ shame on so many levels. After Cutter had left, we’d had some more candid conversation. I’d told her the time would come where she’d be weak as a newborn kitten. Sick on herself, that I’d have to do this for her and here we were already.

I’d also promised I would keep my fuckin’ clothes on and wouldn’t do anything that made her uncomfortable.

I got the water going and turned back to her, but she already had the tee up and off over her head. I gritted my teeth and she drew those solemn aquamarine eyes up to meet mine. They were just as startling in their brilliance every damn time I saw them. She didn’t look at me direct much but this time, I got the full effect. More so because her pupils weren’t swallowing the color whole. I kept my eyes locked to hers and didn’t dare wander.

“No sense in being shy,” she said miserably, “You’ve seen it all before anyways.”

Her tone held so many things. Anger, bitterness, derision… all of them she’d come by honestly, and none of them bothered me any. She was hurting; she was going to be all over the map. It was how this thing was gonna play out and I couldn’t pay no never mind to it. Getting butthurt over it wasn’t gonna help the situation, or her, so I simply nodded and let it roll off me. I don’t think it was directed at me anyways.

“You steady?” I asked her when she’d slipped off the counter and stood for a moment on her own; still trembling, but a damn sight better than before.

“I think so,” she uttered softly and was back to staring fixedly at something, anything, that wasn’t me.

I helped her the rest of the way out of the sweats we’d bought her and stripped my tee off over my head. I had a wife beater on under it, and she was pretty much out of clothes for the time being. One bit of torture at a time. Clothes could be gotten tomorrow after I put what she had through the wash.

I set the tee aside on the counter, made sure there were enough towels and stepped into the large, glassed in shower with her, shirt, boots, pants, and all. She made a noise that sounded almost like protest and I tipped her chin. Her eyes flashed to mine and I did my best to silently communicate my best intentions. She gasped softly and I turned her under the shower spray.

“You think you’re gonna be able to sleep after this?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know…”

“Fair enough. Might as well do this again then. Didn’t get the best opportunity to actually comb your hair for nits. Think you can hold still and let me try?”

“Nits? What are those?”

“You’ve got head lice, Darlin’,” I reminded her gently.

“Oh god!” she muttered horrified.

“Don’t remember much of last night do you?”

“No… I’m sorry,” she closed her eyes and put her face in her palms and began to cry, “I can’t remember, I don’t…”

“Shhh, s’okay. You don’t need to. You were scared, and out of it, and you really don’t need to. We doused your hair pretty good, everything should be dead but no harm in having a go at it again right?”

“No, god no! Please,” she dropped her hands to her sides and her eyes to the shower floor. She shuddered and twitched gently and I sighed silently.

“Okay, here we go. Stay out of the water, but head back, Darlin’.”

She tipped her head back but stayed out of the shower spray and I followed the pesticide shampoo’s directions and applied it to her hair. Her hands found their way to my sides and rested just above my hips, holding on for dear life. I imagine she was afraid of falling and I couldn’t blame her. I worked the pesticide shampoo onto her head, making sure to get her entire scalp all the way to the ends of her long blonde hair, and checked my dive watch.

“Ten minutes, Baby Girl, can you hang on that long?” she nodded, her eyes closed and I brought her forehead to my chest.

“Just rest, hang onto me. I won’t let you fall.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” her muffled voice asked.

“It’s about time someone was, isn’t it?”

She shivered, but it was warm enough in here, so without looking to confirm I could only guess she was crying. As far as detoxing junkies went, she was being incredibly brave right now. She wasn’t begging for a fix, she wasn’t whining about how much it hurt; she just simply rested against me, let me hold her up, and cried. It was probably the most heartbreaking, and at the same time, most inspiring thing I’d seen.

I checked my watch and absently massaged the goo into her hair, grimacing as I felt some of the damned bugs in her hair run over my fingers and hands, trying to get away from the shit that was killing them. Guess we hadn’t gotten them all after all. It made me wish there had been more of the bastards that done this to kill back in that house. Fuck.

“Okay, Beautiful.” I tipped her head back and rinsed her hair gently but thoroughly. Letting the water detangle it, cautious not to let it catch or pull.

“Th-thank you,” she stuttered dully and I took my attention from her hair to her face. She stared off into space, shivering in withdrawal and I think I swore to myself then and there, that no more harm would befall her. Not while I was around. She’d had her lifetime of pain bundled into just a couple of years and every one of my protective instincts screamed that enough was enough.

Faith needed a friend, and while I’d only ever pulled the white knight routine once, for my brother, she made me want to protect her with everything I was worth. I just wasn’t quite sure how to protect someone when the only monsters that were left to fight were the memories inside her head. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what’d happened to this girl.

Could. Not. Even…

Chapter 2

Faith

I sat as still as I could; it was hard with how much I twitched and jumped. Muscle spasms happening seemingly out of nowhere and often. I hurt. A deep and abiding ache in every bone, every joint. It was the worst I had ever felt in my life. So awful. The only thing to make it bearable was the tenuous link to the man who sat behind me, gently pulling a comb through my hair. I shuddered and it had nothing to do with the lifting fog of whatever drug my captors had me on and everything to do with the deep revulsion I felt knowing what it was he patiently combed from my hair.

He was deeply methodical, sectioning out my hair, clipping it up out of his way so he could make sure he got everything out of it. He’d been doing this for over an hour and we weren’t even halfway through.

“How you holding up?” he asked softly.

“Okay,” I murmured back, which surprisingly, was true. Despite feeling so nauseous, despite the cramping and the twitching and the aching and the generally wanting to die, overlaying that was a peace I hadn’t known for a very long time… I felt safe and cared for. The gentle, rhythmic pull of the comb through my damp hair was soothing, and a gentle, pleasurable, tingle suffused my scalp, washing over my neck and shoulders. The simple pleasure of having something done for me, of being cared for.

I hugged my knees and huddled in his oversized tee shirt and closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of his hands moving my hair, the light scrape of the comb through my locks. The glow from the bedside lamp suffusing the room with golden warmth.

“Is the air conditioning on?” I asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s hot.”

I wiped a bit of sweat from my upper lip and he sighed, the sound of it carrying the weight of the world. I gasped at a particularly sharp spasm in my leg.

“It’s only just starting,” he said quietly.

“It gets worse?” I swallowed, and with how dry my throat was is very nearly gave an audible click.

“Yeah, Faith. It gets much worse, but it’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He drew the comb steadily through my hair, as if he were determined to see the long process through before the even longer one got started. I was afraid. I wanted to believe him, I really did… I gripped the leather cuff around my wrist with the opposite hand and sighed as another shiver wracked through me.

The boy who’d given it to me had been sweet. The boy who had given it to me had shone a light in my eyes that not everyone was out to get me. The boy who’d given it to me had reaffirmed my faith that there were still a few good people left out there. The man behind me, who carefully tended to me, reaffirmed what the boy had shown me with his simple gift, and I wanted so badly to believe…

But it wasn’t long until the pure fire of an ultimate living hell overtook me and burned every sweet and kind sentiment away. Regardless, I clung to that simple gift, and the solemn vow of the gentle man of the here and now…

It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.

Chapter 3

Marlin

I could almost feel her slip away, the lucid moments just before the withdrawals really set in were always so fleeting, but she’d hung on. As if the gentle tug of the comb through her hair were an anchor or a lifeline. She shivered hard and harder and I knew it hurt. I knew it was bad, and I also knew it was just beginning. I’d promised her I would be here for the whole thing and I’d make good on that promise. Faith had every reason to never trust another man again, to never trust
anyone
again. I wanted to prove there were still a few of us left that could be relied upon.

I finished her hair just as she doubled over and the sobbing began. Soon it would be screaming and that screaming would morph into crying uncontrollably as her body rebelled. Bucking wildly with muscle spasms. She would throw up and worse. Possibly wet herself. It would be the absolute worst thing she would ever go through in her life and then some… and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do for her.

Faith doubled over and let out with this high pitched keening wail and that was it. It’d started. She was past the point of no return and it was going to be
days
of this. The worst part of it was, that for whatever reason, with withdrawals came insomnia. She wouldn’t even be able to
sleep
through any of this. Let alone the worst of it. I folded the towel around the ruin of stray hair, bug parts, and eggs and threw the whole damn thing away in the trash bag I had at the ready in the bathroom.

I came back out to Faith curled on her side, crying. Her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth gritted tight against the pain. I got back up onto the bed and, fuck, I gave in to my own moment of weakness. I couldn’t not touch her. I knew after what she’d been through that touching her too much might not be the best thing, but I was fucking human. Being fucking human meant that when someone as fragile looking as her was in pain, you gathered up the broken pieces and tried to make them whole again. Which is what I did. I gathered her up against me and made soothing noises as the despair and agony took hold.

So what if she puked on me? So what if she pissed herself or worse? I wasn’t going to stain. I could suck it up and wash it off. I held her while she bawled and struggled to get away from what was hurting her, but it was her own body wreaking havoc and throwing a tantrum like a two year old denied a piece of candy. Her body wanted the drug so fucking bad and she didn’t. She’d never wanted it.

“Shh, I got you, Faith. You scream, you cry, you do whatever you need to do, Baby Girl.”

It was that fact that made this whole thing worse, as she bucked against my hold and thrashed. When it’d been Danny, I was so pissed at him for getting involved in the shit in the first place I’d been downright fucking cruel during his time kicking the habit. I was so mad, I’d told him he could suck it up. That he didn’t have the option to be a pussy about it. My anger had been my shield against feeling any kind of sympathy or empathy and I didn’t have that shield here. I needed to find another and I needed to find it fast, or this was liable to destroy a part of me I would never get back.

I wrapped my legs around Faith’s and held her as still as I could so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Danny had scratched himself bloody and raw and he didn’t really have fingernails to speak of. Faith did, and her peaches and cream skin didn’t need any more permanent reminders of her captivity.

The first few nights would be the worst. If she were anything like Danny, the turning point wouldn’t be until around something like day fucking four. A few hours into this initial struggle the doctor from up north appeared in the door.

“How’s she doing?”

“Not keeping anything down, sweating, she’s getting weak. I know she ain’t gonna die of the withdrawals…”

The doctor nodded and put on his glasses, coming forward, “Dehydration is still dangerous, so is a high fever.” He peeled back Faith’s eyelids and shone a light into them and she started thrashing and screaming.

“I’m going to start an IV, some anti-nausea meds, too. They don’t always work, but I wanna see if I can’t get her hydrated; maybe get a sedative on board for good measure,” he sighed, “Wish I could help rapid detox her, but they look at the kinds of drugs we prescribe and the shit I would need? They’d flag that so quick… Damn it to hell, can you hold her arm? Just like this.”

The doctor got an IV started and fluids going, but Faith kept ripping out the tubes. She was wearing out. Exhausting herself, so the fourth one finally stuck. The sun was climbing in the sky and the doc and I looked up at the open and shut of the door downstairs. My MC brother, Nothing came up, and mercifully, Faith was out for the time being.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” I grunted back.

“Take a minute, we’ve got this.”

I nodded and carefully detangled myself from Faith. I needed a fucking cigarette, bad. Grabbing up the pack on the bedside table, I trekked downstairs. I went out the back slider and took a deep breath of the clean, sea air.

“How’s she doin’?” Cutter asked, coming around the side of the house.

“Rough. She’s hurting, jonesing hard for a fix that I ain’t got shit to give her,” I bowed my head and palmed the back of my neck. “It’s worse, somehow, you know?” I asked him bleakly. Shit, this was only day one… I lit up and sucked in a lungful of my own vice. I didn’t smoke ‘em unless I was stressed. I blew out.