The Broken Pieces of Us (The Devil's Dust #2.1)

Agreeing, I pull my phone out and dial Doc.

“Hey, Bull,” Doc answers chipper.

“I am going to need you at the clubhouse.”

“What happened, what do I need to bring?” she replies in a bored tone; she knows the drill.

“It’s Babs’ niece,” I pause.

“You found her!” Doc squeals into the line, her voice excited and shocked. I can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, and she is toked out of her mind,” I answer, the smile I had slowly fading.

“Shit,” she replies. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Thirty minutes later, Doc comes into the club, rushing into the bedroom.

“Damn, she looks rough,” Doc says, repeating exactly what Old Guy said.

“Yeah, I know,” I remark exasperated.

Doc walks up to Scarlett, looking her hands and arms over. She pulls the blanket off and looks at her feet, making me squint in confusion.

“Why are you looking at her feet?” I question.

“Track marks,” she replies quickly.

“Jesus,” I whisper, placing my hands on my hips and turning away.

“Give me some time with her,” Doc suggests, putting on some gloves. I hesitate. I don’t want to leave her. I find myself protective over Scarlett for some reason.

“Bull,” Doc whispers, “you can trust me.” I know I can trust her; she has never given me a reason not to. I nod and stalk out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I slide against the wall, my hands in my hair as I fall to the floor. This is a fucking mess.

***

“Bull.” I look up and find Doc standing above me, my eyes blurred with exhaustion.

“She is awake and delirious,” Doc informs me, her face frantic. I stand immediately and walk into the room. Scarlett is backed up against the wall, the blanket pulled to her neck.

“Who the fuck are you?” she yells, pulling the blanket tighter. Seeing her body in movement, she looks smaller than before.

“I’m Bull. I’m a friend of Babs’,” I reply softly, my hands up in surrender as I step forward.

“Babs?” she says the name, as if she is confused.

“She is really cracked out, Bull; sobriety is not going to be easy,” Doc mutters next to me, her arms crossed in front of her.

“I need something,” Scarlett whines, scratching her arms harshly. The sound of her nails tearing her skin making me cringe.

“What do you need?” I ask, stepping up to her. Scarlett looks at me with a dazed look, her face looking at me as if she just noticed I was in the room.

“I’ll do whatever, just give me something!” she pleads, sitting up on her knees. “You want me to fuck you? Is that it?” Scarlett asks, her eyes spilling tears.

My hand cups my mouth in disbelief. I can’t listen to this girl break so far past who she is destined to be.

I leave the room and shut the door, Doc behind me as Scarlett screams from the withdrawals of her high.

“She needs rehab,” Doc states. I shake my head, refusing to let Scarlett out of my site. The looks of her, the shit she has snorted or smoked, who knows what gangs she has run into. She’s not safe.

Doc grabs both of my arms gently, taking me from my thoughts.

“Bull, this girl needs help. I don’t know if I can give it to her here,” she remarks gently.

“You do this here,” I demand.

“I will try, but I doubt it will be successful,” Doc replies, looking at the closed door.

***

Doc sedated Scarlett and took some tests after I told her about the nasty fucker who had said he was screwing Scarlett. She said the sedation will help with the withdrawal as we slowly take her down from the substance she was on. Doc found Scarlett had a high amount of cocaine in her system. I am contemplating going back to that crack house and burning it to the ground. It’s on my to-do list.

I walk in the club this morning, day three of Scarlett being here mostly unconscious.

I meet Doc at the bar, coffee in her hands.

“She is ready to come off the sedation. It will still be rough, but she won’t be like she was,” Doc says, placing her coffee on the table. “I don’t feel comfortable keeping her sedated like this without being in the hospital where I can keep a better eye on her,” she continues.

“Is she awake?” I ask, walking toward the hall, not giving Doc a chance to answer me.

I walk down the hall and open the door slowly, and find Scarlett sitting on the bed looking out the window.

“Where is my aunt?” she asks casually, not taking her gaze from the window.

I close my eyes and sit on the bed, dreading this topic.

“She was hit by a car,” I reply.

“She died,” Scarlett informs rather than questions.

“She did,” I reply, nodding.