Page 47
CHAPTER 47
STOMACH ROILING, HOLMES walked to Columbus Circle and hopped on a subway line heading downtown. He stared out a clouded-over window and tapped his feet impatiently as the subway car rattled under midtown on its way to lower Manhattan.
The fifteen-minute journey felt like hours. Holmes exited at Canal Street and walked as quickly as possible up the filthy staircase to the street, holding his nose against the stench of greasy fast-food wrappers and stale urine.
He moved at a brisk pace, trying not to think about where he was headed. His rational brain knew it was the last place on Earth he should be going. But his rational brain was no longer in charge. His reward circuit was running the show, and it was desperately seeking stimulation.
He was close now, and the pull was strong.
A light rain started to fall, misty and chilly. Tourists pulled out umbrellas or ducked under awnings. Dusk was falling, and colored store lights reflected off the newly slick pavement. Holmes made a turn down Baxter Street and then hooked into an alley between a bar and a bail bond shop. At the far end, set deep into the building wall, was an entrance he hadn’t visited in months. Two months and sixteen days, to be precise.
As Holmes reached the shadowy alcove, he bent his head against the rain. His heart was racing. He could almost see his dealer’s twisted lip, feel the small packet of heroin in his hand, the sensation in his nostrils, and the gentle flood of euphoria through his body. He looked up and stopped. His dealer’s door was boarded up. A bright pink notice was taped at eye level.
CONDEMNED BY THE CITY OF NEW YORK.
Holmes slumped back against the wall as rain dripped down his face. He was itching for a hit— aching for a hit. But he didn’t have the energy to track down his old source or ferret out a new one, not when the risk of getting dosed with fentanyl would be dangerously high.
His head was spinning. He’d already taken his buprenorphine for the day. Should he stick another tablet under his tongue? He mentally called up the list of questions from his discharge instructions. Feeling anxious? Affirmative. Sweating? Yes, even in the rain. Eyes watering? Ditto. His mind skipped down to the last question on the list, the one that determined definitively if extra medication was indicated.
Do you feel like using right now?
More than anything!
Holmes pulled out the pill case that held his travel supply—two extra pills of bupe. He turned the case over in his hand. He placed his thumb on the plastic clasp. The morphinan alkaloid molecules were supposedly arranged in a way that would quell his craving for heroin and keep him on an even keel. Instead, he was convinced the pills were messing with his mind.
Holmes needed a fully functioning brain. He’d made a commitment to his partners and he couldn’t let them down, especially Margaret. And to prevent that, he needed his head to be clear. Unclouded. Back to its natural state. Whatever the hell that was.
Holmes flicked the pill case open, then walked to a storm drain and dropped the pills one by one through the grate. He turned up his collar and headed for the train to Brooklyn.
Brendan Holmes, licensed private investigator and chronic substance abuser, was officially off his meds.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47 (Reading here)
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96