Chapter 75

“Get out.” She jammed me with her elbow in the side of my ribs. “I want to be alone.”

I cringed, holding back, controlling the burning rage running through my veins.

“I don’t need your help, Chris.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, holding my own.

There was a flat rap on the bathroom door, Philip whispering, asking how everything was, his mild voice observant and straightforward.

Paula wrapped her head in her arms. I pushed off the floor and stood, shutting off the facet. I brushed the fine dusting of coke into the palm of my hand and sprinkled it over the opened toilet.

Before Paula could protest, reaching up to stop me from flushing her expensive drug of choice down the drains, I yanked on the handle and watched the white powder dissolve into the murky water of bodily fluids, swirling quickly out of harm’s way.

“I’ll be right out,” I told Philip.

“Do you need my help?” he asked, and I could hear the hurt and worry in his voice.