Page 188 of Dance of Defiance

The world dulls around me as I prowl around my apartment, feeling as though reality has turned to molasses and I’mstruggling to move through it. I snap at Val, then immediately feel like shit. I turn to him, face haggard, eyes pleading.

He just smiles.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, walking over to me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But in my agitation, I shake him off and stalk back to my bedroom—then hate myself the instant the door slams shut between us.

By three a.m., the headache feels like a railroad spike being driven through my skull. My skin is clammy, and the sheets are soaked as I twist and turn, gritting my teeth and pushing my face into the pillow. I feel Val curl against me from behind, wrapping his arms around me—sweaty or not—and holding me tight. For a second, I bask in the calming sensation that brings me: slowing my heart rate and making the pain in my head abate just a little.

Then the tremors start an hour later, and that’s when I truly realize how bad things are going to get.

The first full day was a chore.

The second day, as the withdrawal demons begin to dig their claws deeper into me, I realize I’m inhell.

A madness slides under my skin, clawing at my sanity as I writhe and twist in bed: a torturous punishment that squeezes my chest until I can’t breathe, and then laughs in my face.

I yell to Val for a drink—justone, to take the edge off this nightmare. Even as I scream it again, twisting in the sweat-soaked sheets, I know how pathetic I sound.Beggingfor a drink. Near tears. Knowing damn well that the list of things I would doright now for a single glass of vodka is humiliating and beyond pathetic.

I also don’tcare, and find myself screaming for him again to bring me one.

He doesn’t answer.

“You said you weren’t going anywhere!” I choke, tears running down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face in my hands. “Please!”

The tremors start bad and just get worse. The hours drag by as I claw at my soaked sheets, clinging to them for dear life as the shakes try to break me in half. My teeth chatter, my muscles spasming and cramping viciously as the alcohol leaves my body in a scorched earth campaign, burning everything in its path.

I see my mother’s face—soft and sympathetic at first, then sneering and cold, disgusted with the man I’ve become, crying like a child just because I can’t have a fucking beer.

Evie’s face appears next, her head slowly shaking side to side as she mouths “what a weak brother. What a weakboy.”

After she goes, it’s my father’s face leering at me, sneering at my disgusting display and telling me what a disappointment I am.

How I’ll never lead the Bratva.

How no one would ever follow the leadership of someone so fuckingpathetic.

The tremors get worse, until all I know is the agonizing pain of my muscles trying to rip themselves apart.

At some point, Val returns; holding me tight, telling me he’s there for me, that this is all eventually going to be okay. Holdingmy face to his chest as I sob like a fucking baby, torn between the desire for a drink and the desire to just die.

When the demons start raging inside me, and there’s no holding them back, I find myself lashing out at him, even though I hate myself when I do.

I tell him if he gave a shit about me, he’d get me a fucking drink. I tell him he’s the worst thing that ever happened to me. When he walks out of the room after that one, I collapse to the floor in a shaking, sweating, sobbing mess.

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here."

I don’t sleep that night. Knowing it’sonly the second fucking nightmakes it even more of a nightmare. Reality blurs in and out. Sometimes I’m in bed, twisting in the sheets and writhing in agony. Other times I’m on the floor, clinging to it, wondering if this could get any worse.

It can.

The third morning is when the vomiting starts—violent, unstoppable, gut-wrenching. The tremors are worse, too, and as the day creeps on, I start to see colors drifting through my vision, and have full-on visual hallucinations. I also hear sounds that may or may not be there.

And the demons inside meroar.

Claw.

Bite.