My Addiction: Second Chances Series by S.K. Lessly

I’m not like you. I will not destroy myself, my life that way.”
    I shook my head and pointed back at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing now? You have become the biggest asshole known to man. You walk around here mad at the world, taking your misery and loneliness out on everyone around you. Did you think about Brad when you decided to become this shell of a man? Do you think about how he feels watching his older brother self-destruct from the inside out? You smell like shit, you look like you have skid marks in your damn tightie whities, your clothes and face look as if they haven’t seen soap and water in decades. So, yeah, I may have gone the wrong way with drugs, but you are right behind me, and you are so far in denial it’s sad. Why don’t you throw away the vodka you keep under your pillow that you drink every night, and take a fucking shower, or maybe two? Shave that nasty beard you have and join life.”
    He turned beet red, and I knew he was about to explode from embarrassment, shock and fear. So I said quickly, “You think I don’t see the signs? You may not go to work drunk, but you come home and get drunk. I know what that’s like. Remember, I’m the junkie.” I pointed to myself, rolled my eyes and turned to walk away when he gripped my arm. He spun me and walked closer to me.
    I looked up in his eyes and it broke my heart to see all the pain etched in them. He took a deep breath and said, “If you break him, it’s going to be you and me.”
    I nodded and answered softly, “I know,” then walked away. I had less than fifteen minutes to get to where I needed to be.
    Shit, I’m gonna be late.
     
    *****
     
    I arrived at the spot about ten minutes late. Oh well. I broke every law imaginable to get there, so if that’s not appreciated then too bad.
    I grabbed my bag out of the trunk and headed for the entrance. As I got closer, the smell of urine, sweat and something very unpleasant attacked my senses. I hate this place.
    I walked up to the back door and knocked. A very large, very black man opened it and looked me up and down. The look on his face always managed to scare the shit out of me. He would study me as if it was the first we’ve met, and we both knew damn well it wasn’t. This song and dance happened every time I came here before he would move to let me pass.
    I walked through a dark and damp hallway in the back of the building with my hands deep in my pants pockets. The hallway of the building always seemed moist to me and that didn’t seem right. The walls of a building shouldn’t bleed or be moist all the time. It didn’t matter the time of the day, I learned; it was always like that. This place was nasty. To give you an idea of the nasty stuff that happens along the walls here, I just passed a girl pinned up against the wall, boobs out and bouncing as some gent that was screwing her. The look of boredom on her face was almost comical, sad but comical, especially when you see how hard this guy was working.
    That wasn’t the first time I’d seen something like that happen here and it wouldn’t be the last. At any point of the day, you could see someone being screwed in the hallway or in either the men or women’s bathroom. Since this girl was out here, I only assume all the bathroom stalls were taken.
    See what I mean?
    I keep my hands to myself. There’s no telling what you could catch if you touched or leaned up against the walls here.
    I found the steps I needed and descended to the basement where Mr. Allen met me. He paced impatiently, looking at his phone.
    When he saw me coming toward him, he shook his head. “What the hell took you so long?”
    “I’m sorry, okay? I got here as fast as I could,” I told him, and moved quickly past him to the changing rooms.
    Just before I closed the door to get ready, he said, “You don’t have a lot of time in there, so hurry up.”
    I just nodded my head, closed, and locked the door. I knew the door probably