Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Adeline
I follow Eli to the car. He refuses to let me drive, so I climb in the passenger seat, clipping my belt. The entire drive home is awkward and silent.
“I don’t get it. How come Sam doesn’t have to be guarded for knowing what you are?” I ask as we pull onto my street. Eli growls but says nothing.
“How does he know?” I wonder out loud.
“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be seeing him again,” Eli says, parking the car.
“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t see,” I tell him, reaching for the door handle when he pulls me back.
“You are ours, Addie. You won’t be going near him, or I will kill him.”
“Whatever. What are you going to do? Give him fleas?” I spit back at him.
He growls, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. “You would do well not to provoke me, Addie. If I had my way, you would be locked in our house in Soya, so do well to remember that,” he says before letting me go.
I get out of the car, heading for the front door.
I hold my hand out for my keys, but he doesn’t hand them to me, instead unlocking the door before stopping and turning to me while I glare at him.
“Lose the attitude, or I will take you home. So, which is it?” he says, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“As I thought. Now quiet, everyone is asleep,” he says, pushing the door open.
I walk in, and the house is in complete darkness. Eli grabs my hand, walking through the house with ease toward my bedroom before opening the door.
“That you, Adeline?” I hear my mother call out from her room down the hall.
I walk to her door, opening it. “Yeah, ma,” I tell her.
“Taylor has been up a few times. I gave her some sleeping pills. Maya knows she is here,” my mother says tiredly.
“I can stay up with her,” I tell her, but my mother shakes her head.
“No, she leaves. Honestly, I am just tired of it. We can’t help if she doesn’t want help. We will see how she is in the morning if she hasn’t snuck out by then.”
“Ada?” I hear Maya’s soft voice behind me as she walks down the hall, rubbing her eyes and cuddling into her plushie.
“Hey, did I wake you?” I ask her, and she nods as I pick her up.
“Is Mr. Eli staying here?” she yawns.
“Eli is here?” my mother asks, and he pushes the door open slightly, giving her a wave.
“Hi, Debbie,” he says.
“Just try not to be too loud in there,” she tells him, and he chuckles.
“Noted,” he says as my mother lies down, flicking her lamp off.
“Come, I will tuck you back in,” I tell Maya.
“I want to sleep with grandma,” she says, and Eli opens her door.
My mother hears Maya and pulls the blanket back, and I place her in bed with her before kissing her head and walking out. Eli walks back to my room while I go to the spare bedroom, cracking the door open and looking in.
My sister is still asleep, and I quietly close the door before walking back to my room. Eli hangs his suit on the back of the door in my wardrobe.
I grab my pajamas out of the drawer before heading to the bathroom to get changed. When I return, Eli is sitting on the end of my bed with only his shorts on. I pull the blanket back, climb in bed, and move closer to the wall.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” I tell him, turning and facing away from him.
He doesn’t listen; instead, he lies down and pulls me against him, the heat of his body seeping into me.
He sighs. “You will have to get used to sleeping in our bed anyway. There will be touching,” he says, ignoring me trying to wriggle away from him and pulling me closer.
* * *
The next morning, my sister and mother are screaming the place down, and I awake with a jolt.
Eli moves so quickly, he is dressed in a matter of seconds while I bolt for the door, knowing exactly how violent my sister can become when she comes down off drugs.
Running past a screaming Maya, I dart down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Give me the keys, mom!” Taylor screams at her; she is only in her underwear and a singlet. My mother is on one side of the table, and my sister is screaming on the other side.
“Enough, you are scaring Maya,” I call out.
My sister turns her attention to me. “This is your fault. Why would you bring me here? Give me your keys, Adeline, now. I am going back home!” she screams before stalking toward me.
She hits me, and I shove her back. Maya screams, and I see Eli has picked her up out of the corner of my eye before walking away. Taylor grabs my hair, making me scream out. My mother races over, trying to separate us.
“Stop it! Let her go, Taylor!” my mother screeches out of breath.
“Give me the fucking keys, and I will be gone!”
“He is dead, Taylor!” I scream at her, and she lets go of me.
“You fucking lying bitch,” she says, her hand connecting with my cheek. I can feel her handprint welting my skin.
“That’s it, Taylor. I am calling the police. I am done with this shit,” my mother tells her, walking toward the phone on the side table.
My sister grabs her, ripping her back, and I hit her. My mother falls to the ground and lands on her hip. My sister stumbles back from the hit before she charges at me. Eli grabs her just before she punches me.
She turns on him instantly.
“Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house!” she screams, thrashing, but he doesn’t let go.
He even cops a smack in the side of the head, but he pushes her toward the chair in the lounge room, forcing her to sit. Taylor is trying to get up when Eli yells at her.
“You dare hit your mother and sister when they have done nothing but try to help you and raise your kid because you are incapable of doing it?” he screams, leaning over her.
“You don’t even know me, so get out,” she screams, pointing to the door.
I see my mother pick up the house phone to call the police. Maya is still crying upstairs.
“You are upsetting your daughter. Now, sit there and shut up,” he tells her, but she doesn’t listen, instead trying to get up when he shoves her back.
“You can’t touch me. Who do you think you are?” she demands before glaring at me.
“This your new fuck toy, sis? Got a keeper right there,” she snaps at me.
The doorbell rings. My mother answers it thinking it is the police, only to discover Cyrus.
“Everything alright?” he asks, stepping in.
He looks around the room, my sister breathing rapidly, as she tries to find a way to escape. Not finding one, she starts screaming and fighting again, hitting Eli.
“Taylor, stop this!” my mother cries, trying to get through to her. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this no more,” she says, walking off.
I hear her go upstairs, no doubt, to try and console Maya.
Eli keeps Taylor restrained until the police arrive; they arrest her, and we find out she also has outstanding warrants.
They take her away, kicking and screaming, the neighbors coming out the front to see what the commotion is.
The day has barely started, and I already feel drained; it is way too early in the morning to wake up to yelling.
Walking inside, I let my mother know she is gone.
Maya has stopped crying, but it is clear my mother won’t be going to work today, nor will Maya be going to school.
Eli and Cyrus stay but remain quiet, just observing everything that is going on and not interfering.
I am grateful because the last thing I need is to deal with them.
“Coffee?” I ask, turning on the kettle.
“I will make them. Get ready for work,” Eli says.
I nod, walking upstairs and grabbing my clothes before walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. My sister is gone, and now the emptiness and guilt set in. Being alone, I cry. My tears silently drip down the drain.
I hate this part of drug addiction to the point where you just can’t see them getting better, when you feel like you are hurting them, when you have to resort to calling the police on them, watching them being dragged away.
Watching your loved one wither away to addiction is like watching them slowly kill themselves, on repeat, as you watch the person you love become a stranger to you.
We have been down this road with her for years now.
First, we didn’t understand it; my mother was trying to look for where she had gone wrong, blaming herself for the way Taylor was.
Then, we tried to help, only for it to fail.
Then came the anger when you watched time and time again how they sabotaged themselves and let you down.
Then the guilt followed, when you just didn’t have the energy to keep doing it, then fear, fear every night that you would have the police knock on your door, telling you they’d found them dead in a gutter somewhere, so then you’d start the entire process again, trying to help to no avail.
From watching her deteriorate over the years, I know that this will end in us burying her because we don’t know how to save her.
That is what living with drug addiction is like.
It doesn’t just kill them; it kills you every time you see them, taking a small piece time and time again until you give up and walk away or you bury them.
Some get clean, while others don’t. I love hearing stories of those who manage to bring themselves back; they give me hope for her, but now I just can’t envision her coming back to us.
Pulling myself together, I wash myself before getting out. Drying myself, I dress quickly before wrapping my hair in a towel and walking out to my bedroom. I quickly blow-dry my hair when I see Cyrus walking into my mother’s room with a coffee.
“Thank you, dear,” I hear her say, just as I cut off the hair dryer.
My sister’s handprint welts my skin. I grab my make-up bag just as he walks in, placing a cup on my dresser.
“Thanks,” I tell him while digging through my make-up bag for my foundation.
He grips my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. He turns my face, looking at the mark my sister has left.
“Are you okay?” he asks, running his thumb over my bottom lip.