Keeper of Crows (Keeper of Crows #1)(8)



“I look like shit. How do you think I feel?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question, Carmen.”

The fucking rules. I hated them.

“Fine. I hate that they cut my hair.”

He stared at me. “Why is that?”

“They say a woman’s hair is her glory, right?”

Doc smiled. “I’ve heard that, but there are more important attributes than beauty.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes at his bullshit. “Name one.”

“Kindness.”

“That’s inner beauty, Doc.”

He chuckled. “Charity.”

“Also inner beauty.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Fine,” he answered. “The most important attributes are not outer or physical beauty.”

“If you say so.” I learned very early on that if you were pretty, you got things. Your way, gifts, compliments, the attention of boys, drugs—the list went on and on. But that only got you so far. Shaved head or not, I wasn’t hard on the eyes. The staples weren’t going to define me. They were just a reminder of a royal fuck-up.

“Do you think some people are just bad, like bad seeds, Doc?” If so, I’m one of them.

Doc steepled his fingers. “That’s an interesting question. I do believe there are people who are inherently bad, but I think those are few and far between. I think most people are good, even if they make bad decisions.”

“You know, Doc, I think you’re wrong.” I stood up. “Can I go back to my room now?”

“Our session just began.”

“Well, I can just sit here in silence if you’d prefer. I’m not in the mood for your brand of bullshit today.” I didn’t know if it was my tone, the way I defiantly crossed my arms and legs, or how I closed him out for five full minutes, but he finally called for someone to escort me back to my room. Luckily, it was the same guy from the hallway earlier.

When we were out of Doc’s sight, he tapped the keys on his cell phone.

“My friend’s working now. No cameras.”

“Do you have smokes?”

He grinned, easing a pack from his pocket and placing the soft plastic in my hand. Full flavors, baby. “Lighter?”

He eased a light green lighter from his other pocket, giving it to me. I grinned. “Now, I wonder what I can do to repay you,” I teased. I knew what I was going to do for him.

When we got to my room, I pulled him inside. The hallway was empty, luckily. I shoved him against the wall, and as I reached into his waistband, he shoved me to my knees. The asshole thought he was in control. I proved him wrong with one lick.

I milked him; every moan, every grunt, and every drop. And then I told him to get the fuck out so I could smoke. A girl needed her privacy.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I held my hand up. “Save it.” I didn’t need his thanks.

“I really like you.”

The hell he did. He liked blow jobs. Every man did.

I winked at him. “Bring me something nicer next time, and we’ll see what happens.” Then, I shut the door in his face.

I flopped down on my bed, opened the pack, and flicked the wheel on the lighter, inhaling the glorious toxins. They erased the taste of him from my mouth.





3





The antidepressants didn’t work, FDA be damned. These things didn’t make me any less depressed than I was when I walked into this place two months ago, other than the fact that I now felt that my life was a pointless and unfixable mess.

I didn’t have any ‘side effect’ other than dry mouth, but Doc noted that I was irritable. He was right. I was irritable, as well as a slew of other colorful adjectives. I was also smart, and for the last sixty days, I told them what they wanted to hear with a smile. The good doctor was going to sign off on my rehabilitation, telling the judge I was healed. I pictured him as a televangelist, palms up, twitching around. Would Doc pray for me if I gave him a grand? Probably. He’d use it to take his grandkids on vacation.

My hair was now an inch long. I wouldn’t look completely hideous when I left later this week. Although, getting home would be an issue. My car was totaled. Mom was dead. Father probably wouldn’t bother to come and get me.

“Your release is scheduled for this Friday morning at nine A.M,” Doc informed me.

“Friday is my favorite day of the week,” I told him.

“You have no cravings at all for cocaine?”

The mere mention of the word made me yearn for it. It made my toes bounce, but I couldn’t let him see how it affected me. “Nope. You’ve done a bang-up job, Doc.”

“You had a visitor yesterday, but he wasn’t on the approved list. I declined his visit.”

I ticked my head back. “He?”

“Dimitri Astrov.”

My skin began to crawl and my face felt hot. I dug my fingernails into the arm rest. “I don’t want to see him.”

Doc perked up. “Why?”

“He’s my dealer.” I didn’t want to snitch, but maybe Doc could do something, protect me from him. He may have denied his visit, but when I walked out those doors, I wouldn’t be in Sunny Bridge anymore.

A groan from across the desk drew my attention. Doc dragged his hands down his face. “Listen, Carmen. If you have any contact with him and fall back into your old habits, party with old friends, anything at all, you will fail. Do you understand? This will all have been for naught.”

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