36. Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Six
Silas
I feel like hell.
More specifically, I feel like someone kicked me in the head for hours and then I found out the next day that I also caught the flu.
The first few days were bad. They told me it should start to get better after that.
It didn’t.
The sweating got worse. And the tremors. I feel like barfing every few hours, but I don’t. Probably because I haven’t been eating. I haven’t felt like eating. Or sleeping. I’ve barely left my room.
Withdrawal is a bitch.
They’ve given me meds to ease the symptoms, but I still feel like garbage. Apparently, the fact that I’ve been drinking almost consistently since I was a kid is making it extra hard on my body. It makes me wish I’d never stopped.
It makes me hate Jackie for doing this to me; for sending me to this place that feels more like a prison than even Trenton ever did. She narked on me, even after I tried cutting back on my own. For her.
It’s all I can think about: the way she lured me into believing we were friends again. More than friends. I fell for this new, confident Jax. Hard. And fast. And I don’t even have the energy to make up some sexual quip about the way that just sounded. I don’t even have the energy to curse at the nurse who just came in for the fiftieth time today to ask if there’s anything she can do to make me more comfortable .
You know what would make me more comfortable?
A bottle of rye.
It might even make me agree to leave this shitty ten-by-ten room. Maybe even take part in one of their bullshit group therapy sessions. It might even make me hate Jackie a little less. Or at least, it would help me forget about her, even for just a day or two. And right now, I crave that almost as much as I crave the liquor.
Almost.