Asphalt and Heroin

By Tracy Amos

Having overcome her addiction to heroin, Kyler is now stable in her job and her life. However, the monkey on her back still has a tight grip around her neck, forcing her to relive her past demons in her dreams. The only way she is able to function anymore is through the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, and soon she realizes that she has an addiction to that, as well.
After a horrifying turn of events and many lives damaged, Kyler finally seeks treatment in hopes of finding sobriety. The support and love of her friends--those whose lives she tore through in a jagged, alcoholic frenzy--never wane and she manages to find redemption and forgiveness once again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468566659

Tracy Amos

Empty places hold an essence that reflects the people who once resided in them...from a different time, maybe a different era. These places have untold stories that may never be known. However, rather than just have them fall into desolation and forgetfulness, I opt to capture these unique structures in pictures and let what's left of them tell their own stories and depict their own pieces of history. I absolutely love abandoned places and try to explore them when I can. Anywhere from small two-room dwellings to huge, vacant factories or decrepit hotels...I love finding these places, noting the unique facades and imagery of certain eras that have long-since passed, and I often speculate on who lived there, who visited, who worked in these structures. It's always a mystery.

Book preview

Contents

Dreams

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Pain

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Fear

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Falling

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Calm

Epilogue

Dreams

Prologue

Her hands. Christ, they wouldn’t stop shaking. She studied her reflection in the cracked and pitted glass of the mirror… the bruise-colored bags under her eyes and the way her cheekbones stuck out, more grotesque than appealing. Her lackluster hair and dull eyes.

She tried to find some last vestige of self-respect hiding within her soul; some piece of the fierce pride she had once known. But her hands wouldn’t quit shaking and her knees felt weak, as if they could not bear her weight much longer. What little there was of it.

She gripped the edge of the sink and closed her eyes.

Please, she whispered, though she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

Her whole body began trembling uncontrollably and her eyes found the syringe lying on the porcelain. She hated herself, God, she did, and really and truthfully wanted to die. Staring thoughtfully down at the syringe, she didn’t notice she stopped shaking when she picked it up. The feel of its smooth glass churned her stomach, and some distant part of her wanted to throw it across the room and see it smash against the wall. But… her eyes glazed over with anticipation.

Please, she whispered again, though this time with a different meaning.

She inserted the needle into the swollen and scarred vein on the inside of her elbow and depressed the plunger. Sweet whiteness exploded within her and she slid to the floor.

She mumbled something incoherent and smiled. Her glazed eyes became vacant, yet the smile stayed.

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Chapter 1

Three years later . . .

Detective Rick Decker sat at his desk, slowly looking through various files. He worked on the drug task force and was currently trying to close a case that had been ongoing off and on for almost four years; a case that was destined to solve some murders and allow closure for a few families.

His partner, Jessi Bowman, sat at her desk across from him also looking through files.

Tired of this shit, Jess, he muttered. Every one of these is a dead end. Nothing but dead or strung out hypes. He leaned back and stretched. I’m gonna get a cup of coffee. You want one?

Yeah, thanks, she said absently, and then before he could get up, passed him a file. What about this one?

He took the file and glanced through it. Still alive anyway. That’s one plus.

And straight as of the last update, Jessi responded.

Rick grunted. Which was about three years ago.

Says here she works at the skate park over on Beaumont Avenue, Jessi replied. Apparently she’s at least looking like she’s been good. So…" she looked up at him and shrugged.

He sighed. Worth a shot, I guess. But if she’s straight now she’s probably cut all ties and won’t know anything.

Or give us anything if she did, Jessi smiled.

The sharp trilling of the phone right next to her head drilled a spike of pain deep into her throbbing brain. Kyler groaned and rolled over, hitting the on button and stopping it in mid-ring.

Yeah? She growled.

Kyler, Max’s voice was short, fraught with anger. Running late?

She rolled over and looked at the sunlight shining through the window. Shit. What time’s it?

After eleven. Hungover?

Little bit, Kyler pulled a cigarette from her crumpled pack on the nightstand with a shaking hand. Sorry. I set the alarm but I guess I didn’t hear it.

There was thick silence on the line for a couple long minutes and she closed her eyes against the weight of it.

Max…

What’d you do last night? He lowered his voice and she could tell he was walking outside.

I just told you, Kyler pressed the heel of one hand hard against her forehead and reached for the bottle of Excedrin on the nightstand. Drank too much apparently. Why didn’t you call me sooner?

I was busy, he responded shortly. You didn’t do anything… uh… illegal?

C’mon, Max, she sighed. When’s the last time I did anything illegal? I went to a bar for a while, then to a liquor store, then here. Why?

When’s the last time you had cops looking for you? He asked quietly.

Kyler froze, staring at the piece of carpet between her feet, trying to work her mind around the alcohol haze, trying to remember every detail of the previous night.

Her heart pounded dully behind her sternum.

There’s cops there? Now?

Yes.

Another long few moments of complete silence. Finally she stood up on shaky legs, stomach churning from too much alcohol and not enough memory, and made her weary way into the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and saw one lone bottle of beer.

Ok. Give me an hour. I need to take a shower and I’ll be there.

All right. I’ll tell them. Max clicked off and she was left with the dial tone buzzing incessantly in her ear.

Christ, Kyler muttered, scrubbing both hands across her face. She reached in and grabbed the beer, trying to think past the pounding in her head.

A little over an hour later, Kyler walked into the office at the skate park. Max was leaning back in the chair, feet propped up on the desk, and he just looked at her.

Hey, she muttered. Sorry I’m late. Her gaze cut to the man and woman across from him, took in the guns, the gold badges, and the piercing stares. She merely raised her eyebrows and waited. Her eyes, though bloodshot and squinted in the early afternoon light, were still as sharp as ever and missed nothing.

Kyler Maddox? Detective Rick Decker, the man stood up and extended his hand. This is my partner, Detective Jessi Bowman. We were wondering if we can talk to you for a few minutes.

She shook both hands slowly, assessing them, taking her time responding. Opening the drawer beneath Max’s legs, she pulled out a green Excedrin bottle and spilled what Max saw was a blue pill that could only be a valium and three Excedrin into the palm of her hand. She dry-swallowed all four pills and gave a slow, reluctant nod.

Ok. Here or somewhere else?

I’ll leave, Max muttered. You guys can have the office. Just before he stepped outside he turned and gave Kyler an ugly look that she didn’t comprehend. Plopping heavily down in the chair he’d just vacated, she lit a cigarette and waited, her face impassive and giving no clue to her pounding heart and churning stomach.

Kyler, Jessi started, Rick and I work on the drug task force for the LAPD, and we’re trying to close this case that will hopefully get a few questions answered—

I’m clean, Kyler muttered. Nothing stronger than alcohol for a long time. You should know that, am I right?

Jessi regarded her for a long moment. Beside her, Rick’s eyes were an iced blue as they stared into hers.

So… what, then? Jessi asked softly. No names? Locations… anything?

Kyler gave a small laugh and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She gestured to the little fridge behind Rick. Will you hand me a water out of there? And anything you two want, help yourselves.

Rick reached behind him and opened the fridge, pulling out three waters. He handed one to Jessi and then one to Kyler, his eyes never leaving hers.

Kyler again took her time, regarding both of them as she took a long drink of water. Anything I can give you would be at least three years old, she finally said quietly. Surely to God you got better stuff than that.

Rick lit a cigarette of his own and passed the pack to Jessi without her asking. Believe it or not, we don’t. This is an old case we’ve been bouncing around for a few months and most of the people we try to contact are dead or strung out. We’re just trying to connect some things, close the case, and then move on to the next one.

It’s still open, unsolved involving possible murders or accidental deaths of some women in the area about three or four years ago. Jessi explained. They all OD’d on some kind of drug or another, so it could be ruled as accidental—

Except that each drug that each of these women OD’d on—whether it was coke, heroin, crack, pills, meth, whatever—had been cut with something else, Rick cut in. Making it murder.

What something else? Kyler asked, her eyes narrowed.

They both shrugged. Don’t know, Jessi answered. Some kind of chemical, something common.

Well, I mean, what do you want from me? Kyler was relieved they weren’t there to arrest her on some stupid drunken act she’d maybe done the night before, but she was confused as to what they were really after.

We went back through hospital files and records and pulled out as many of these cases as we could find, Jessi continued, and most of these women are dead. A few are in institutions being fed through tubes because of massive internal damage from the chemical; some have mental issues and brain damage…

Seeing a trend here? Rick offered a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Kyler remained silent; her gaze locked on his, and didn’t look away.

Point is, Kyler, as far as we can tell, you’re the only one who survived and managed to get clean and live a normal life, Jessi said quietly.

You’re the best we got, Rick’s voice was sarcastic and Jessi shot him a quick, dark look. He raised his hands in apology. Sorry. That didn’t come out right.

Kyler grunted and ran her hands through her hair. So what do you want? She repeated. Like you said, most anybody in that life, around here, around that time are dead or fucked up. The person cutting the dope with that shit is probably the same or long gone… she shrugged, finally letting the confusion show on her face.

We just want to clear up this case and move on, Rick said. "Our captain delves into the open/unsolved once every three months and the cases are handed out so that new eyes get to look at the files, maybe find something the first guys missed. It’s a good strategy but most times, like this one, a lot of time has gone by and people have disappeared.

But that doesn’t mean we half-ass it, now slight anger was coming into his eyes, something Kyler could relate to, feel at home with. She felt her own anger doing its own slow burn in her gut in response; anger at him, at Jessi, at Max for pushing a feeling of guilt on her for drinking, for being late to work, for—

And here she stopped, her eyes turning to look out the door into the park. Across the way she could see the near-liquid black glaze of fresh asphalt out on the flatland, and suddenly understood the ugly look in Max’s eyes earlier. She—not him—was supposed to have been at the park at seven that morning to let in the people to pour the new asphalt on the flat.

Shit, her mind moaned.

So tell us where you got that last hit, Rick’s voice cut back into her thoughts. "Who you got it from and where they got it. You gotta at least know that, right?" His voice had taken on a demanding tone that Kyler associated with most cops, and that only served to fuel her anger.

What’s in it for me? She countered, eyes narrowed. I mean, if it’s that important that you gotta look to somebody like me to help close out your precious case, then surely you’re gonna give something in return?

How ’bout you already got paid with your life? Rick snapped. Jessi recognized the look in his eyes and stepped in front of him with one hand on his chest.

Cool it, Ace, she murmured.

Kyler thought of the last three years, of the pain and anger, mostly fear, that seemed to come on her in the dead of night, especially in the past eight months or so. The thought of the rape she endured, the humiliation, the way it felt to finally be able to love and trust again, but that, too, came with a high price and she was left with a lot of losses and that damned monkey on her back that just wouldn’t quit no matter how many seconds, months, or years since her last fix.

That life came with a lotta fucking bad dreams and too many bad memories, she growled, not backing down. What else you got?

Ok, Jessi cut in sharply. That’s enough. She physically pushed Rick back and turned to Kyler, her eyes blazing. Who treated you? When you OD’d on that shit, who treated you?

You said you got hospital records, files, whatever, right? Can’t you figure it out?

Goddamn it— Rick started but Jessi shut him up another dark look.

Kyler, look, we’re not after you here, ok? We’re not trying to make your life out to be something it wasn’t and we’re not condemning you for anything. We just came to ask for some help but it’s strictly up to you; no hard feelings one way or the other.

Kyler took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Her head pounded maddeningly, making it extremely hard to think. She took a step back and shook her head.

Shit, her voice was a hoarse mutter.

There was tense silence in the room for a long time. Rick also turned away and now stood by the door leading to the parking lot; savagely blowing smoke rings out into the hot afternoon air. Jessi stood between the two, glancing from one to the other, waiting. Finally Kyler gave another shake of her head and sat down at the desk again, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper.

This is my doctor. Tell him I said it was ok to give you all any information you need about me. Kyler glared up at Jessi, her dark eyes all but shooting out sparks of anger. He was the one who treated me; he can tell you what you want to know. And this, she wrote across the middle of the page, is the name of the guy I bought the dope off of that last time, and the address where I bought it.

Now those angry eyes fell on Rick. And, no, I have no idea where he got it. For all I know, he’s the one you’re looking for. And he coulda fallen off the face of the earth in the past three years.

She shoved the piece of paper at Jessi and then turned and walked out into the park, not looking back.

Jessi glanced the paper before shoving it into her pocket. Good move, Ace, she snapped. C’mon, let’s get out of here.

Kyler gritted her teeth and closed her eyes for a moment as she walked across the grass towards the flatland. It was scary how fast that old rage surfaced, how far back her emotions wanted to take her even after all the months of meetings and learning how to control these wild impulses.

It was the damn hangover, she knew, more than anything, that had caused her to anger so quickly, but it sure didn’t help that she was being picked apart by a couple cops first thing in the morning… or rather, afternoon now.

Max was sitting along the low concrete wall that ran around the edge of the flat; his skateboard at his feet. Kyler sighed and sat beside him.

I fucked up, huh? Forgot about the damn asphalt people.

Max shifted beside her but didn’t answer. Kyler lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke bite hard into her lungs, relishing in the nicotine roaring through her body.

Why were you here this morning? I mean, that early?

He didn’t answer for a long time and when he did his voice was barely audible. Because I had a feeling you wouldn’t be.

Kyler took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the shame wash over her. She dropped her eyes and ran her hands through her hair and didn’t respond.

Last thing I said was don’t forget. And that was just last night, Kyler.

I know, she muttered.

What’d they want? Those two cops.

Help on a case. An old case. Trying to clear up a bunch of overdoses from a few years ago that might actually have been murders.

He looked at her. What’s that got to do with you?

She shrugged and gazed out over the park. They said I’m the only one that turned out ok after OD’ing. Wanted to know where I got the bad dope from and from who.

After all this time?

She offered a small smile. Yeah, that’s what I asked but like I said, it’s an old case. They wanna see if fresh pairs of eyes can come up with anything new.

Max grunted. At least it wasn’t about something you did, running around town in a blackout.

Kyler looked at him, stung, but his hazel eyes were fixed unerringly on hers and he didn’t back down.

Finally, Max sighed and shook his head. I’m gonna skate this, see if it’s ok. You wanna join me?

Kyler hesitated for a long moment before reluctantly shaking her head. Nah, that’s ok. I’m gonna get started on the paperwork. Let me know how it goes, though.

She gave a heavy, weary sigh and stood up. He gazed up at her, seeing the hangover on her face. I’m really sorry, Max, ok?

He nodded wordlessly and then watched her walk off, and knew it wasn’t all that long ago that she wouldn’t have given up an opportunity to skate for anything.

Kyler plopped down at the desk and dropped her head into her hands again, wishing for a drink and hating herself for it. She’d never been late for work, especially when it involved maintenance on anything at the park, and it drilled into her harder than the hangover did.

She laid her cheek against the cool wood of the battered desk and closed her eyes. In her heart she felt uneasy, seeing signs of potential addiction, feeling them in the back of her skull where her need for drugs had always been fierce.

Heroin. Coke. Pills. Pot. Crack. Meth. Heroin, most of all. And the nearly-orgasmic feel of the needle as it pierced the thin layer of skin before finding its home in a vein full of pulsing blood, the heroin hitting her like fire, rocketing its way towards her heart, her brain . . . her core.

Kyler swallowed heavily and reached for the phone with a shaking hand, dialing the number of the one person whom she’d always counted on to be there for her. She let it ring three times and was about to hang up when the familiar voice answered.

Hey, Doc, she said quietly. How you doin’?

Kyler, Keith Lamont, her doctor and surrogate father, answered. "I think the question might be, how are you doing?"

Shit, I don’t sound that bad, do I?

You don’t sound good, he admitted. You working?

Yeah, she rubbed her forehead. For a moment there was silence, and then he said,

What’s going on?

Kyler snagged a cigarette from her crumpled pack and lit it, inhaling deeply. She let the smoke filter out her nose before answering.

Did you, uh… talk to Max lately? Like today?

I did, he responded. Not like you to not be there for something like that.

I know, she muttered.

There was unaccustomed silence between them for a minute, and then Lamont said quietly, When’s the last time you went to a meeting?

Kyler scrubbed a hand hard across her face and thought about a smoky church basement filled with calm, sane people working the twelve steps, and then she pictured a dark, smoky bar, a comfy booth in the back, and a glass of Jack and Coke on the table. Both offered solace; both offered peace, but only one had consequences and its peace came with a price.

She closed her eyes and sighed, wondering why the Jack sounded so good over what she knew was sane and calm and comfortable.

Hey, kid… Lamont’s voice, calm in its own way, came across the wire.

She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. I don’t know, Doc. I… it’s been awhile, I guess.

He grunted, paused a moment, and then said softly, How is it today? The hangover?

Don’t, she muttered. Just don’t, ok? Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… she trailed off, crushing out her smoke.

Just what?

I don’t know, her voice was gruff. Just… just everything, I guess. Before.

Lamont sighed. That was three years ago, kid. You’re gonna have to learn to let it go. You can’t keep hating yourself for the rest of your life.

Kyler closed her eyes and took a deep breath but didn’t respond.

Tell you what. Come out and have lunch with me. I got someone I want you to meet.

Oh, Jesus, she gave a mock groan. Who is it, Doc? Not another shrink?

No, he said seriously. Just a good guy and somebody who’d go to a meeting with you if you want.

She was silent for a long time before finally mumbling, A dope head doctor?

Alcoholic, Lamont responded evenly. Recovering. Seven or eight years or so. And, yes, just a doctor… patches up ripped-up bodies but won’t come near the human brain.

Kyler gave a heavy sigh. I’m not hungry, Doc…

So come out anyway, ok? Humor me. The tone of his voice suggested he was slightly worried about her, and more than slightly angry. Kyler knew him well enough to know the anger stemmed from the worry. At times like this she hated him being a doctor; he knew too much and couldn’t be objective.

Sure, Doc, ok, she said shortly. Around one, all right?

Yeah, Lamont responded. See you then. He clicked off and she was left with the incessant dial tone in her ear. Kyler gritted her teeth and hit the off button on the phone, feeling the anger thrumming through her veins.

I’d kill for a drink right now, her mind whispered, and she groaned and dropped her head on her arms.

Chapter 2

Kyler walked into the cafeteria at the hospital and spotted Lamont in a far corner, sitting by himself. He nodded and motioned her over.

Hey, kid, he said. "

Hey, she responded. You working hard?

Lamont knocked on the wood of the table. Not really. Seems like a slow day for accidents and lacerations. How’re you doing? His eyes bored into hers, and she gazed back steadily.

Not too bad.

Hungry?

Nah, she shook her head.

His doctor’s eyes assessed her while the father side of him showed worry.

I’m all right, Kyler flapped a hand. Hangover’s about gone anyway.

Lamont grunted. Got a call from a couple cops earlier… He trailed off, eyebrows raised in question.

And? Kyler lit a cigarette and avoided his gaze.

And I told them I wanted to talk to you first and then get back with them.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Talk to ’em, Doc, all right? They’re working an old case, one where a bunch of junkie whores OD’d on some fucked up dope and they just wanna ask you some questions about me.

What about you? His eyes were narrowed as he glared at her.

Maybe see what you found, I don’t know. They’re saying it was more than just me that got that bad shit and they’re trying to find the person responsible.

Shit, that was three years ago, Lamont shook his head.

Yeah, I know. Don’t ask me, Doc, ok? I’m just telling you what they told me.

Lamont regarded her for a long moment. That’s all it is?

I guess, Kyler shrugged. Why? What else would it be? Now it was her turn to glare at him. He raised his hands in surrender, surprise and suspicion on his face.

"Relax, kid, all right? I was thinking it was something Emily and I missed when we were trying to clear up your charges back then. Or something that we didn’t miss but that’s just now coming to light."

He stopped and regarded her. What did you think I was thinking it’d be?

I— She stopped and then shook her head. Nothing.

The same thing Max thought it was? He pressed. Maybe something you did last night after drinking?

Ok, Kyler stood up, eyes blazing. I’m going. I’m not here to fight but if that’s what you’re trying to do, then—

Sit down, kid, Lamont said quietly. I’m not trying to fight.

She sat down, defeated, and ran her hands through her hair. Her stomach was rolling over and her head was starting to pound. She needed a drink bad, and bit down savagely on that need, hating it for what it was and what it was doing to her. And hating herself for still feeling that need.

Lamont felt his own insides being shredded. He sensed a battle going on inside her, knew who the opponents were, and knew it could go either way.

You always said you’d talk to me if it got bad enough. If you couldn’t talk to anybody else.

Kyler didn’t answer, feeling torn and full of shame.

You still can, ok? Don’t ever think you can’t talk to me.

She raised her weary eyes and looked at him. Can you fill a script for me?

For a brief minute Lamont’s eyes went hard. What? He asked brusquely.

Just valium, Doc. Just… something to help me catch up on my sleep.

He looked away, trying to reign in his anger, feeling frustrated and deeply troubled. He knew about the Excedrin bottle in the desk at the skate park and knew it contained more than it was supposed to. He also knew that when things got rough for Kyler, and there was nowhere else to turn, she’d turn to the streets to get what she needed.

Though she hadn’t had anything other than valium, booze, nicotine, or possibly Percocet in her body for three years, the fact remained that those same dealers she bought her pills off of also sold dope. There was a thin line that Kyler hadn’t crossed yet, but it was there and some days he didn’t think it’d take much for her to do it.

He felt cornered and used and a part of him hated her for it.

Did you ever think maybe, just maybe, if you cut back on the booze then you could sleep?

I don’t think the booze is it, Doc, Kyler’s voice held an edge. If anything, it helps.

Lamont stared at her for a long time, feeling the anger coursing through his body. Finally, he gathered up his trash and stood up. I don’t think so, Kyler, and deep down you don’t think so, either. I gotta go.

Hey, she growled softly. He turned back, glaring at her.

What changed? You never had a problem prescribing it to me before.

"You changed, kid. Look in the mirror, ok?"

Dammit, Doc, she snarled, I’m just asking for a little help here.

Lamont banged his tray down hard on the table. "No. You’re asking for a quick high, Kyler. I know it’s the booze and that fucking pride of yours that’s keeping you awake ’cause you won’t let anybody in to help you, and I know you gotta know it, too. You’re been through too much to not know the signs."

A quick high? She asked incredulously. What the fuck, Doc?

Do you know what you’re doing to me? He snapped. "That fucking bottle in the desk at the park? I didn’t prescribe that shit to you. You got it off the street and now you’re asking me to write you a script for valium, knowing that if I don’t it’s no big deal. No big deal to you, right, ’cause you can always get it somewhere else.

If I do it for you I’m just enabling your damn addictive personality. If I don’t and you set out to get some and then end up getting dope instead, then I’m gonna have to live with that. So you got me between a rock and a fucking hard place and I bet it doesn’t bother you at all, does it?

Kyler stared at him for a long moment, hurt and anger shooting from her dark eyes. Finally, she shook her head and stood up and then walked away without a word, heart thudding dully in her chest; anger and shame burning a hole in her gut.

Lamont gritted his teeth and sat heavily down in the chair. Christ, he muttered. A shadow crossed over his face and he looked up.

Couldn’t help but overhear, Mike Jennings, a friend and coworker, sat down across from him. That the one you wanted me to meet? He nodded his head in the direction of the door.

Yeah.

The same one who’s stomach I patched up awhile back?

Lamont nodded and pushed his tray off to the side. He put his head in his hands and stared at the table. She’s too fucking stubborn. Too full of pride. She’s gotta see the signs; I really can’t believe she doesn’t. Not after all she’s been through.

Mike grunted and slowly stirred his soup, not answering. Lamont glanced up at him.

What? You really think it’s possible she doesn’t see it?

He was silent, gathering his words. I think it’s possible, yes, because addiction is really powerful, Keith. Or could be she does see it but thinks that since it’s not a needle in her vein it’s not that big a deal.

Lamont gritted his teeth and shook his head. Jesus Christ. He glanced towards the door, anger and worry battling for dominance in his heart.

Kyler was in the office at the park for a good hour and a half before Max came in. After leaving the hospital, she was so angry the only thing she wanted to do was get a drink, but deep down she knew it would only serve to prove the doc right. But it was more than anger that made her change her course from the bar to the park; there was more than a little bit of hurt and shame.

She and Lamont had been through many wars together in the three years she’d known him; he’d saved her life more than once and she knew he considered her the daughter he’d never had. He’d always been the one person she could fully trust, turn to, and lean on when she needed. To have him lash out at her like he did not only cut her to the bone, but also planted a seed of doubt in her brain and she had to wonder how much of this was her fault.

When Max walked in, she was still nursing a monstrous headache, but now also that doubt as well and she wasn’t in the best of moods.

Hey, he said. How was lunch?

Kyler glared at him through hooded eyes. You already talk to Doc? Then you should know.

Max stared at her for a few long moments, then said quietly, I’m not the enemy here, Kyler. You, he pointed to the desk and the phone in front of her, "have the phone, and I don’t have a cell. If Doc called, I sure didn’t talk to him."

Her eyes dropped to the phone and she felt the shame creeping in again. Shit, she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and took a long drink, never taking his eyes off her. So I take it it didn’t go well?

Sorry, Kyler muttered, lighting a cigarette. No, it didn’t.

Max was silent for a long time, watching her. It was unusual for her and the doc to argue, also unusual for her to jump down his throat or to act like the whole world was against her. Max had known her for a while himself and there wasn’t a whole lot he wouldn’t do for her, but here lately it seemed like Kyler was losing focus and perspective, and above all, control.

Especially when it came to booze.

What happened? He asked.

She looked at him, and for just a moment he saw fear and anguish in her eyes; knew she was starting to see a familiar line of action and emotion stemming from her drinking. But then her eyes hardened and she became a wall again, hiding her emotions like they were in a safe.

Kyler took a deep breath and gave a half-hearted shrug. I guess we’re both just having a bad day. She opened the drawer above the kneehole and took out her Excedrin bottle, staring at it for a long time before abruptly opening the top and spilling out about a dozen pills of various sizes and colors.

Max grunted and she glanced up, meeting his burning gaze head on. I got a headache, she said softly. The kind that needs more than Excedrin.

Kyler, he snapped, it’s not the headache, ok? And you know that.

Jesus, she growled. "What is this, shit on Kyler day?"

He sneered. Lemme guess, Doc gave you the too much booze talk, too, huh? And it pissed you off so the reason your lunch with him didn’t go well was because you didn’t wanna hear it, right?

And I still don’t wanna hear it, she said angrily. This is bullshit, Max, all of it. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?

You know we’re right, his own voice was nearly shaking with rage. "Look at us, Kyler, what we’re doing right now… fighting over this shit like it’s worth it, right, when you and I have never done this before. Just like you never fought with the doc before. Like you never fucking defended something that’s so much fucking bullshit!"

His face was contorted with fury, fists clenched at his sides. Kyler felt her headache amp up about two hundred volts and her own rage burned its way through her veins like the dirtiest heroin she’d ever shot.

Fuck this, she growled softly. Fuck… this. Kyler stood up and walked by him, giving him a wide berth and not knowing if it was because she was afraid of what he’d do or what she’d do. A month ago the thought of a situation becoming so volatile with Max that it came to physical blows was something she couldn’t in a million years comprehend.

Now, though, it was not only plausible, but possible, and Kyler was all too aware that the old rage that kept her alive for so long on the streets was now almost begging him to make the first move; almost begging for an excuse to be let loose, for all control to be relinquished and for absolute blackness to descend on her.

And then suddenly, as furious as she was, she was also more than a little terrified… not of Max and not of the doc, but of the demons she had inside and the monkey on her back gaining strength in alarming quantities.

Fuck… this, she muttered again, but now her voice wavered the tiniest bit, and she quivered on the edge of balance, with insanity and damnation just a hairs-breadth away.

Oh, shit, Kyler, Max’s own voice shook and he reached out to her. I’m so—

I gotta go, she said thickly. I’m sorry, Max, I gotta go.

And then she was gone, out the door. Max crumpled in the desk chair and put his head in his hands, terrified for her, hating himself, and wishing like hell he could go back and stop this before it got this far.

Chapter 3

Kyler didn’t wait another minute. Her heart and her head pounding out erratic booms and thuds in her gut and skull, she headed directly to her favorite bar, a dark, smoky hole in the wall. She tried not to think but her heart ached just the same.

Max was right; she’d never argued with either him or the doc before. Not like this, and not with this much resentment and anger flashing back and forth.

She was in a back corner booth, nursing a Jack and Coke and trying by sheer will to get it to hit her head before her stomach puked it back up. The arguments with the two most important people in her life kept creeping back into her memory, and the shame and fear she felt were not mixing well with the liquor.

Finally, though, with the help of some beers that smoothed out the Jack, she was able to relax and let the booze flow through her body like the heroin once did. For the first time during that long, long day Kyler felt stable again, back in control, able to think and able to function. Even the harsh words and even harsher feelings that had been thrown around seemed minute and inconsequential; something easy to get over and repair.

All was finally ok, except for that nagging voice that kept repeating to her Lamont’s words from earlier that afternoon. Finally, after her third drink, she decided to take his advice and go look at herself in the mirror.

Fuck it, gotta take a piss anyway, she muttered, and slid her drunken way out of the booth.

In the bathroom stall Kyler found herself staring at the drops of blood in the bowl that hadn’t come from her period. This was the fourth day in a row that she’d been pissing blood, and with that thought came a few others that she didn’t want to think about. Letting them crowd into her mind made her stomach roll over queasily, and Jack Daniel’s and a queasy stomach didn’t mix.

Angrily she hit the flush and stepped out of the stall. Walking over to the sink Kyler absently ran her hands under the tap, not knowing she was taking her time to look up into the mirror. The door opened behind her, and bypassing her own face, she found herself staring into the eyes of the woman who’d been at the park just that morning.

Hey, Jessi offered a slight smile. Long time no see.

Kyler ran her wet hands over her face, struggling for a little bit of sobriety for once; some bit of reality to figure out this new situation.

There’s a fine line, she said softly, between paranoia and guardedness. Her eyes never left Jessi’s in the mirror. I feel like I’m being stalked, which is putting me closer to the paranoid side.

Jessi smile became a sarcastic grin. Don’t flatter yourself, kid. We save the heavy stalking for the big-time criminals. This… she gestured vaguely between herself and Kyler, is, believe it or not, merely a coincidence.

Now it was Kyler’s turn to flash a sarcastic smile. I don’t believe in coincidences. She started out but Jessi stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Wait, ok? We got off on the wrong foot today. Rick’s got… sometimes he gets a little gruff but I promise he’s not all that bad.

Duly noted, Kyler muttered, and tried to step around her, but Jessi stopped her again. She sighed. What?

All banter aside, Jessi’s eyes were serious as they stared into Kyler’s. We’re not following you, or stalking you, or whatever, ok? I swear, we just got here, and no, we didn’t know you’d be here.

Why here? Kyler countered. The cops all hang out at Sully’s on Central.

I live not too far from here, Jessi replied. And yes, Sully’s is the cops’ bar, which is another reason why we’re here. Sometimes we come here so we can work on our cases in peace. It may surprise you, but cops can be assholes sometimes and it can get old. Rick and I get our share of bullshit and it’s easier just to step away for a while.

Kyler stared at her for a long time before giving a small smile that didn’t touch her eyes. Isn’t it against cop regulations or something to sleep with your partner? Doesn’t that constitute as a conflict of interest?

Jessi froze, eyes turning hard, and Kyler knew she’d hit a nerve.

I mean, why else would you get so much flak from your fellow cop buddies? The look on Jessi’s face should’ve been enough to stop her right there, but Kyler felt the old anger bubbling up and for once welcomed its familiarity.

Rick and I… Jessi started, then stopped, shaking her head. Never mind. It’s none of your business, anyway.

You’re right, Kyler once more tried to slide by but then Jessi said,

No more than you lying on your back for dope is any of mine.

Kyler gave a bitter grin, feeding off the anger. Touché. But all that’s public record. And it was a long time ago. I don’t have to deal with it anymore.

This time when she turned and walked away, Jessi didn’t stop her. Kyler let the door close completely behind her before taking a deep breath and scrubbing her hands across her face.

Christ, what is wrong with me? She muttered. God. She leaned against the wall and pressed the heels of her hands hard against her eyes trying to rationalize where that ugly side of her had just come from. When the bathroom door opened, she didn’t take her hands away from her eyes but mumbled,

Jess.

It’s better if I don’t talk to you right now, came the clipped reply.

Jess, Kyler dropped her hands and looked at her. Jessi glared back, waiting, and Kyler held her hands up in weary surrender. Our wrong foot keeps getting worse. How ’bout we call a truce, ok?

Jessi stared at her for a long time before finally saying softly, How’d you know? About me and Rick?

Kyler slowly shook her head. I just guessed.

Jessi grunted. Your doctor said you’re pretty… uh… astute.

"So you did talk to him. Hope he didn’t drag me through the dirt too bad," Kyler gave a small smile, but again it didn’t quite reach her eyes as she saw Jessi’s own gaze drop to the scar tissue on her arms.

He called us after he talked to you and, uh… gave us some insight, yes.

Kyler nodded. He knows more than I do about the smack. I didn’t really wanna know what all I’d put in my body. She hesitated and then gave a half shrug. I got a drink waiting. I guess I’ll see you later.

Jessi regarded her. You’re welcome to join me and Rick. We’re just hanging out, anyway. Not doing much of anything.

Kyler looked at her for a minute and then gave a slow shake of her head. Nah, that’s ok. I have a feeling he doesn’t like me much; no sense making his lunch hour miserable.

Giving a slight smile, Jessi cocked her head a bit towards where Rick was sitting at a table across the room. I’m thinking the feeling’s mutual, though, right?

Kyler didn’t answer but shot her an unreadable look over her shoulder as she made her way across the room to the bar. For a moment her eyes met Rick’s, but then she looked away and pulled herself up on a stool.

Kyler, Brent, the bartender, gave her a hard look as a way of acknowledgment.

Hey. Jack and Coke, ok?

He glared at her for a long moment before angrily mixing her another drink. I’m counting these, Kyler, and I’m cutting you off when I think you’ve had enough.

She felt the slow burn of anger but managed to keep it in check. Brent was always saying things like that, and he usually stood by his word but by the time he got around to cutting her off, it no longer mattered. At that point she was usually way beyond inebriated, anyway.

Sure, she muttered, and turned away with her drink, only to nearly collide with Rick as he sidled up beside her, his cold eyes meeting hers for an instant before he turned and signaled for two more beers.

Find yourself a seat, will ya, Kyler? Brent said, and she walked away without answering and with barely a glance at Rick.

Back in her booth with her drink in front of her, Kyler lit a cigarette and stared out the window, trying to let the booze do its magic once more. She wanted to forget about the two cops, forget about the blood in the toilet, and really forget about fighting with Max and the doc. Mainly, she just wanted to forget.

She reached into her baggy jeans pocket and pulled out one lone valium. It was the last of the lot and she knew she’d have to get more, but she didn’t want to think about it right then. Maybe Doc would come around and write her a script, which would be the easiest way… the best way.

But in the back of her mind she saw his hurt, angry eyes as he accused her of backing him into a corner, of asking him for a favor that he could not, in good conscience, grant. Kyler wasn’t too selfish that she couldn’t see the predicament she’d put him in, but it had only become a problem when he laid everything out… all the things she’d failed to see.

Downing the pill with a large gulp of Jack, she leaned back in the booth and shut her eyes, forcing her stomach to accept it by sheer will.

Sensing the presence even before Kyler heard the creak of the leather in the booth opposite her, she slit her eyes and watched as Rick put two beers down on the table.

Jess is getting you another drink, he stated, sliding into the booth.

I doubt Brent’ll give it to her if he knows it’s for me, she muttered.

He will. Jess has certain powers of persuasion.

Christ, don’t tell me she’s gonna flash her badge and promise to take full responsibility for me, her voice came out an aggravated moan.

Rick raised his eyebrows. Well… that was the plan, yes. Played this game before, have you?

No, Kyler lit a cigarette and rubbed an eye with the heel of her hand. I just know how you cops think. She exhaled a long string of smoke and regarded him through bloodshot eyes. What do you want?

He shrugged. Nothing. Just thought we’d join you. No sense avoiding each other when this bar’s not but… he glanced around, maybe eighty feet square, and it’s the middle of the day, and there’s hardly anybody in here.

Kyler took another long drink of her Jack and Coke, staring at him over the rim of the glass. Finally, she shook her head and stared out the window again.

Here you go, Jessi set a fresh drink down in front of her and slid in beside Rick. Your buddy at the bar gave me zero trouble.

Kyler glanced over at Brent and was met with his smoldering glare. Not you, maybe, but I think you might have just got me barred from this place for a while, thanks.

Ah, he’ll be all right, Rick said easily.

She met his eyes, still that cold iced-blue, and tried to see behind them. What do you want? She repeated quietly.

Kyler— Jessi started but Kyler cut her off.

"You guys got my rap sheet so you know there’s a million reasons why I don’t like cops and don’t willingly like to be around you guys. And I know there’s also a million reasons why you don’t like people like me, knowing what you do about me. So come on, let’s cut the shit, all right?"

Her eyes were dark with anger, looking from one to the other. Jessi raised her hands. We just came in here to drink, Kyler.

Bullshit, she growled.

Rick gazed at her. Ok, he said simply.

Ok, what?

Just a couple more questions.

Kyler scrubbed a hand across her face and glanced out the window again before cutting her eyes back to his. She took a deep drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out her nose, slowly shaking her head.

This fucking day just keeps getting better and better, she muttered.

One question then, he leaned toward her and placed a picture face up on the table. Kyler was taking another long drink of her Jack and Coke, shoving the alcohol into her system as fast as she could, but when her eyes fell on the picture, she hitched in a deep, quaky breath, pulling booze and soda into her lungs.

She coughed harshly, her face going a mottled shade of red in a mere few alarming seconds, but her eyes never left the photograph.

Jesus, Jessi slid into her side of the booth and pounded her sharply on the back between the shoulder blades. Breathe, kid.

Kyler coughed again, a rough, hacking sound that seemed to come from deep within her chest. This… she gasped, pointing at the picture, Jesus Christ… She coughed again, spraying the table with droplets of liquid and nearly knocking over her own drink.

Easy, Jessi said. Just breathe.

Rick stared at her, eyes sharp. So I’m guessing you know him. It wasn’t a question.

I need air, Kyler said hoarsely. She pushed past Jessi, nearly climbing over her in an effort to get out of the booth, and then staggered down the aisle and out the door. She slipped around the side of the building and fell to her knees, breathing raggedly, trying hard to get a hold of her stomach and finally giving up the fight.

When Rick and Jessi caught up with her, she was still dry-heaving weakly around a puddle of vomit and blood on the ground in front of her.

Jesus Christ, Rick said savagely, staring at the blood. Jessi slipped down beside her and put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

We gotta get you to a hospital, Rick muttered. C’mon. He started to help her up but Kyler glared up at him with white-hot anger blazing from her eyes.

No, she snapped. Wrong fucking answer, Rick.

Kyler, you just puked up a shitload of blood—

Yeah, and all the fucking booze I tried to keep down. No, she stood up, shrugged off Jessi’s hand and stepped away from them and the gory mess on the ground. I’m getting drunk—

Kyler— Jessi started calmly.

Something I was trying to do before you guys dumped a bunch of fucking heartache in my lap. Fuck both of you, ok? Christ, Kyler turned away and took a deep, trembling breath. She ran her hands through her hair and locked her fingers at the base of her neck, staring at the ground, trying to regain even a little bit of control around her suddenly spiraling emotions.

All right, Rick said evenly and held up his hands. Let us give you a ride, anywhere you wanna go.

I was fine in there! Kyler snarled, pointed a wildly shaking hand at the bar. I was good for at least another three or four before Brent cut me off, but now thanks to you guys, I’ll doubt he’ll even let me in the fucking door.

She turned away from them and faced the wall, putting both hands palms-up against the brick. Dropping her head, she closed her eyes and felt the pounding of her heart behind her sternum. Taking one deep breath after another, Kyler forced herself to calm down and pull her emotions in check before they made her completely lose control.

Kyler, now it was Rick’s hand on her shoulder and she tensed and pulled away.

What? Her voice came out a moaning sigh. What? Shit, what? Kyler raised her head and looked at him, and he barely managed to bite back his surprise at the weariness in her eyes.

I’m sorry about the bar, ok? He said quietly.

Forget the bar, she mumbled. Brent’s ok. He’ll let me back in.

I’m sorry about the picture, then. I just wanted to know how you know him, and if you last saw him about three years ago or if it’s been sooner.

Longer, her voice came out a croak and she cleared her throat. It’s been about four years, I guess, I don’t know. Her exhausted eyes found Rick’s. I knew him, yes, but I didn’t know him like that, like that picture.

What do you mean? Jessi asked quietly, moving up beside Rick to face her. What do you mean you didn’t know him like that?

When I knew him, I was the one shooting up, and I was the only one. He never touched it; wouldn’t go near it, especially not after he saw what it did to me. He sold shit, yeah, but it was small-time. Pot, pills, stuff like that. Coke sometimes, but not a lot. Never smack, or anything hardcore.

He wasn’t using? Jessi’s eyes were sharp on hers.

No, Kyler shook her head. He never used. Look, I’ll tell you guys about the Ryan I knew, but it’s not gonna help your case any, so it’s up to you whether you want to hear it or not. Either way, I’m getting drunk.

She waited and when neither one answered, turned to walk away.

Wait, Rick said, with a glance at Jessi. We’ll drive you. Where do you want to go?

I don’t care, Kyler mumbled. Just someplace with liquor. Lots of liquor.

All right, Jessi said calmly. Come on.

She led the way out of the alley and back to their car. Without a word, Kyler slid in the back seat and leaned her head back, staring out the window. Jessi slid in the passenger side and said quietly to Rick,

Bandshell.

Rick put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, glancing once in the rearview mirror at Kyler. He cut his eyes to Jessi’s and saw his thoughts reflected back at him in her troubled eyes.

Middle of the day and this kid is hell-bent on getting plastered, his mind whispered. She just puked up a ton of blood back there and acts like it’s no big deal, and if I didn’t know any better I’d say her mental state is not exactly stable at the current moment.

Wordlessly he slid into a spot at the Bandshell and the three of them got out of the car. Kyler focused on the bar and walked away without a look back at either of them, and when they once again caught up with her she was seated at a table outside overlooking the ocean, compulsively smoking a cigarette.

She felt hollowed out inside and staring at the waves only drilled an unseen pain deeper into her soul. Jessi slid into the seat opposite her and Kyler dug some money out of her pocket.

Relax, Rick’s got it this time, Jessi said quietly. You can get it next time, ok?

Kyler nodded and put her head in her hands, shutting her eyes against the pain.

Jack and Coke, right? Rick put a glass down in front of her and Kyler only felt a moment of shame when she recognized the immense need she had for it, but then that feeling was gone and she downed half the drink in one gulp.

You gonna be sober enough to tell us your story? Rick asked and felt Jessi kick him under the table. Kyler gazed at him with hooded eyes and lit another cigarette.

First, tell me how you connected him to me.

Rick drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, regarding her. Finally, he helped himself to one of her cigarettes from the pack on the table and pulled an envelope from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled a pile of photographs from it and rifled through them for a minute before selecting one, putting it face up on the table in front of Kyler.

She stared at it for a few very long minutes. It was a picture of a male’s left biceps, with three rings of barbed wire tattooed around it. Intertwined between the barbs and the wire was one word: KYLER.

Jesus Christ, she murmured.

Your name’s not really common, Jessi said. It wasn’t that hard.

Kyler took a deep, shaky breath and let her eyes rest on the ocean again, trying to let the never-ending waves ease the deep ache in her heart. Finally, she finished off her drink and gestured to Rick.

Lemme see the rest of them.

He handed her the envelope and waited, his sharp cop’s eyes watching her as she went through them one by one.

There was the mug shot she’d seen back at Ty’s, with those green eyes that were once so gorgeous and full of life now dull, vacant, and stoned. There was a picture of another tattoo, one that she was very familiar with, of a surfer riding a solid pipe on the calf of one leg. And a last picture showed a small handgun and a set of works on a table, presumably stuff that Ryan had on him when he was arrested.

Where is he now? Kyler glanced at them.

Rick shrugged. Made bail. We don’t know.

How long ago was this?

’bout a month, maybe a little longer.

Kyler was silent, staring at the pictures again, going through them one by one. Finally she put them back in the envelope and handed them back to Rick, standing up.

I’m getting another drink. Do you all need anything?

Shit, we just sat down, Kyler, Rick growled.

She stared at him, eyes still hooded and angry. Yes or no.

No, thank you, Jessi answered for both of them. But if your story’s bullshit or if you get too fucked up to tell it right, you’ll lose any credibility you got with us.

Kyler gave a sarcastic, bitter grin. And you wouldn’t be the first cops that’s happened to. She walked off and left them, heading towards the bar without a look back.

Fuck this, Rick said angrily. C’mon, Jess.

Wait, she put a hand on his arm.

He glared at her and shook his head. She’s just gonna lie to us if she can even stay sober enough to get started, you know that.

No I don’t think so. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, ok?

He gave an angry sigh and didn’t answer. Kyler set two Budweisers down in front of