9

                                    

                                          
Leon punched me so hard my vision blackened for two seconds. 
                          
"You goddamn piece of shit!" He roared.
                          
Blinking my swimming eyes, I tried to focus on him, but it was no use. Even after getting punched, I still felt completely hazed. "Nice to see you too, Leon."
                          
He yanked me to his face by grasping my shirt and glared murderously down at me. "You said you quit. Ten months, Russ. Ten. Months. And now after two weeks of no connection, you've gone back to this. You fucking disappoint me."
                          
He threw me back on the ground in the abandoned parking construction I'd cooped myself up in, my back meeting the concrete floor. I groaned a little and tried to sit up. "Forgive me if I don't live up to your expectations. My first priorities are accomplishing my own."
                          
"And is this what you expect from yourself?" Leon picked up an empty syringe on the ground with a tissue. "Doping yourself up until you kill your soul?"
                          
"Technically, you can't kill—"
                          
"Dammit, Russ! What happened?" Leon demanded to know. "Is this all because of the Russian case? I told you, you shouldn't have gotten in so deep—"
                          
"Do you honestly think I'd dope myself because a gang of mobsters trashed my apartment? That would be a waste of fine medicine."
                          
"What did you take?"
                          
"Where's Michelle? Does she know you're out scooping addicts off the paveme—"
                          
"What did you take!"
                          
Leon's outburst echoed throughout the parking house. I glared flatly up at him. "Cocaine." 
                          
"You are a pathetic piece of shit," Leon seethed, dragging a hand over his short afro. "You have an amazing talent, Russ. I cannot believe you'd throw it all away on something as useless as drugs. Look at yourself, for Christ's sake!"
                          
"I, am, not, an, addict." I spelled out for him through gritted teeth. "I'm an occasional user of pantothenic acids. It helps broaden my mind—"
                          
"I'll broaden your goddamn mind!" Leon shouted, yanking me up to my feet by my shirt. "I really want to smash your head against the concrete if it wasn't because we need you! I'm taking you to a hospital so you can get a pump-out."
                          
"Oh, for crying out loud, you are overreacting. I didn't even take that much."
                          
"How much did you take? You know what, save it," He snapped, yanking me along. My body was too weak to protest. "Tell it to the nurse."

                          
~~~

                          
"Russell, it's so good to see you again," Michelle, Leon's wife, greeted me as soon as I stepped into their house. "Even though it's under such circumstances."
                          
"And what circumstances are those, exactly?" I snapped as Leon closed the door behind us. "Getting forced to go to the hospital or getting forced to stay here for the night?"
                          
"Pleasant and polite as always," She mused, giving me a smile. "I'm sorry to hear about your divorce."
                          
"Why?" 
                          
"Because you and Janelle were a great couple, no matter how ludicrous it sounds in your ears." Michelle replied. She then turned to her husband and offered him a smile. "Hey, honey. I trust everything went alright?"
                          
"Define alright," Leon scoffed, referring to the moment where I one-upped a nurse with my, quote; 'brain-talk'. "I'm just glad it's over."
                          
"Me too, that was awfully tedious," I added, exhausted. "That nurse was incompetent, did you notice the buttons on her shirt? They were—"