To Hell... and Back

I was turned sideways to the bar to watch the band playing. I got lost in the music. I'd taken the last sip of my fifth whiskey when I felt a body press against my back.

"Max."

I turned my head back and saw it was Candy. She'd wedged herself between me and my barstool. I twisted my body around so we were facing each other, inches apart. She was a buxom little blonde and looked and smelled terrific. I was already three sheets to the wind, unsteady on my feet and reeking of whiskey.

"Yeah," I answered. I was wondering if we were going to rekindle our brief affair. I put my arms around her waist to pull her closer.

She pushed on my shoulders, making me let go of her. "You look like you've been drinking a lot."

That wasn't a good pick-up line. In fact it was a downright buzz kill.

"What's it to you?" I asked.

"You need to go home Max."

"Really? You Candy?" Candy was a party girl, not the voice of my conscience. It was pretty clear there wasn't going to be any sex for me that night.

"I care for you Max. You don't look good right now."

"I've got a lot on my mind," I said, as if that excused my boorish behavior.

"Let's go outside and get some fresh air," she said, tugging on my arm.

"All right." The bartender was bringing me a fresh drink. I grabbed it on the way out the door with Candy.

It was a cold moonless night. The neighborhood around Bailey's had gone from good to "transitional," which meant at night there was often someone sleeping on the sidewalk outside the bar. There wasn't anyone that night, but there was an empty beer bottle, a ripped sweatshirt and a single tennis shoe in a pile right outside the door. I took a cigarette out of my purse and lit it. I took a big puff and let it out in a big plume in the frigid air.

"Life sucks Candy. There's no other way to put it."

She snatched the cigarette from me and took a long drag.

"Tell me about it."

I did. I told her about Olek Shevchenko, Lehka, and the mess I left behind when he died after hitting my car. I told her about Lehka's addiction, and how she pushed me away. By the time I finished the story the drink and the cigarette were both long finished.

Candy was a pretty gal, and also a sympathetic one. She put her arms around me and hugged me.

"You'll get through this Max. You always do. You mark my words."

"I wish I had your confidence," I told her. "Right now I wouldn't bet a plugged nickel on me."

The perky blonde shivered. "It's cold out here. You go home Max. Things will look better in the morning."

She kissed me on the cheek and then went back inside the bar. I took her advice, and with a bit of a wobble, walked to my car, and then somehow made it back to the Royal Palms.

* * *

Bright sunshine leaked through a gap in the curtains. I raised my head off the pillow and squinted. I had a nasty headache. I picked up my phone. 10:38 a.m. I'd already lost half of the morning. Then I realized I had nowhere to go and nothing to do. I pulled a pillow over my head and thought about trying to go back to sleep.

After two weeks of hard drinking I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I had lowered myself to the bottom and reveled in it. Candy even sent me home. Would I have the courage to pull myself out of this latest funk?

I fell out of bed on my knees. I retched. There was a half full bottle of vodka laying on the floor that was calling my name. I picked it up and shook the contents. I twisted open the cap and took a long draw. Vile. I staggered to the bathroom sink and drank directly out of the faucet, retching again. I looked into the mirror. The reflection of my face frightened me.

I splashed cold water on my face and shuffled to the dresser to change. There was a flyer for an addiction clinic recommended by my police commission mandated shrink sitting on top of it. I picked it up and stared at it. I wasn't big on group meetings. But there wasn't any harm in visiting it. If I didn't like it, I would leave, I told myself. I called the number on the flyer and added my name to the list.

The session started at 3:00 that day. My head was still a bit fuzzy when I opened the door to the conference room. I got there ten minutes late and the meeting had already started. The attendees were sitting in a large circle like an AA meeting. Imagine my surprise when I saw Heather Murtaugh, the Mayor's chief of staff, sitting as one of the participants.

Heather and I had a checkered history. I had a general distrust of her because she was a politician. She helped me by giving me information that led to the demise of Olek Shevchenko. She was also coerced by Shevchenko to plant her panties in my bed, getting me in hot water with Lehka. I wasn't sure where I stood with Heather until she told me, belatedly, that she cared for me.

"Over here," she called to me. She patted an empty seat next to her that she'd saved for me. She took her purse off of it. "Though I'm surprised you have weekdays off."

She must not have heard about my suspension.

The person speaking stopped and everyone watched me take a seat next to her.

Why did Heather have to look so gorgeous? She was a tall, thin blonde with killer legs. She was wearing a plain short dress and heels, yet she looked fabulous. Her legs were crossed and she was showing way too much of her smooth, creamy white thighs.

The man who was talking resumed his story. Heather leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"I knew you had a drinking problem but you never seemed overly concerned about it. Why are you here?"

"You first. How did you know I'd be here?" I whispered back.

"Saw the sign-up sheet."

"Ahh... clever girl."

I didn't know that Heather had any kind of substance abuse problem. But those kind of problems can be hidden, and who better to hide a secret than a politician?

"OK, now why are you here?" I asked her.

"I've got my own problems Max. You make it seem like the world revolves around you, but it doesn't. So what made you decide to get help?"

Typical politician. She evaded my question and answered my question with her own question.

"I can't remember what day it is any more and I'm not sure that I care," I answered truthfully. "That worries me."

The moderator of the session interrupted.

"Excuse me," he said, glaring at me.

I made eye contact with him.

"Out of respect for the others I'm going to ask you two to finish your conversation outside."

I was embarrassed and stood up to leave. Heather was behind me. We went outside the meeting room door and shut it.

"Jesus Max," Heather giggled. "You got us kicked out."

"It wasn't me," I told her, a bit indignant. "You started it."

I peeked inside through the tall thin rectangular glass window on the door. I could see the man was still talking.

"Do you want to go back in?" I asked her.

She stood behind me to look over my shoulder so I could feel her breath on my neck. I felt something stir inside me. It was the dark side of Max. If you couldn't guess it by now, I was feeble at resisting my strong urges, and I had a strong urge to fuck her silly right there on the floor.

"Do you want to party?" she whispered into my ear from behind.

"What?" I asked, not turning around.

She wrapped her hand around me and opened it in front of my face. She was holding a plastic prescription bottle full of pills.

"What the fuck Heather?"

She leaned against my back. I could feel her breasts pressing against me. I detected the faint odor of her expensive perfume. My knees were getting weak. God damn her.

"Sometimes I score them at this meeting," she boasted.

"Heather..."

She put her lips against my ear. The small hairs on my arms stood up.

"Let's party Max." The tip of her tongue touched the inside of my ear. "C'mon," she beckoned, "I know you like girls."

Heather had even less willpower than I did. I didn't want to go to the fucking meeting anyway. Especially since I had a much better offer from a woman I had always secretly lusted after.

"OK," I said, caving to my inner demons.

She turned me around with her hands so I was facing her. She melted against me. She was a tornado and I was helplessly picked up by the whirlwind she created.

"You drive. I took an Uber here."

I nodded.

She followed me out the door. My beater was parked in the back of the asphalt lot. It was late afternoon and the sun was still halfway up from the horizon. We stopped when we got to the passenger side of the car. We were both squinting in the bright sun and retrieved our sunglasses at the same time.

"What's going on Heather?" I asked her. She was the Mayor's chief of staff. She was gorgeous. She could have anything or anyone she wanted.

She twisted the cap off the plastic vial and popped two tablets in her mouth, chewing and swallowing them without water.

"I don't know," she said, leaning against the car, waiting for me to unlock it.

"That's Oxy Heather. What happened?"

She lifted up her left foot, which was wearing a high heel. She pointed to a jagged scar I hadn't noticed before.

"Achilles," she said. "Soccer. I was on pain meds for three months."

She didn't need to say anything more. I knew the rest of the story. I unlocked the car. I went around to the driver's side and got in.

"My place?" I asked her.

"Why not."

I started the car.

"I've got a stop to make," I told her as I exited the parking lot.

"Party store?" she astutely asked.

"Uh huh."

We went back to my favorite all night liquor store a few blocks from the Royal Palms. It didn't have a name. It just said "Liquor" on the signage. There were weeds growing around the rusted posts holding up the 60's era sign. There was no mistaking what it was. It was coming on dinnertime and the prostitutes that frequented that place weren't there, probably catching an early dinner and then back to work.

Every time I pulled into that parking lot I looked to the left to see if Brianna was there. I still pictured her carefree, sharing a cigarette with her friends, and then looking up and noticing me. I left a piece of my heart with her.

I slapped the balky transmission into park and opened my door. There weren't any cars in the lot so I parked in front of the store's entrance. I told Heather I'd be only five minutes. She wanted to go in with me. Maybe she was scared to be in the parking lot alone, even though I could see her through the floor to ceiling plate glass window. Whatever.

Nigel spotted me coming in with Heather. Great. We walked to the back counter where he was sitting as Lord Protector over an impressive selection of hard liquor neatly displayed behind him.

"New friend?" he asked me. His eyes never left Heather. I bet he'd never seen a beauty like Heather in his liquor emporium. His eyes displayed a lust I hadn't seen before.

"She doesn't swing your way," I told him. I didn't know for sure but I didn't want him to hit on her.

Heather sashayed up to the counter, sexy and pantherlike. Her eyes were already a bit glassy. She sized up the Brit. His teeth weren't perfect, but he was tall, thin and cute. She shifted her weight to one foot on her high heels. We both watched. I think Nigel sighed.

After assessing him, she put a single finger over her lips as if to ponder her decision.

"I could make an exception in his case."

Fuck Heather. Don't encourage the man, I thought. She was goading me and I suddenly felt territorial. I knew what to do to cut this flirtation off.

"You're with me," I told her before Nigel could open his mouth. I unconsciously gripped her arm. She noticed and so did I. The touch felt electric to me.

She made sure we had direct eye contact. "Am I?"

Clever girl again. I kept forgetting she was a politician, and fucking with people was her profession. I was trying to play it cool but she called me on it. We already had an understanding but she wanted me to say it out loud. How could I not want her? She knew all of that.

"Yes, Heather," I said, defeated. It was going to be that kind of relationship.

She put her hands on her hips. "OK then. Why don't you get what you came for and let's get out of here?"

Nigel's eyes returned to me with new found respect. Heather was a knockout.

"Usual," I told him.

He looked at me a bit surprised. I usually ordered the good stuff when I came in with a "date." After Brianna, he always assumed I was with one of the prostitutes that hung out in the parking lot. I could read his smutty mind.

"Nigel, she's not one of the girls, so shut your filthy mind," I chided him, though as friends.

"Right, right." He bagged the two bottles of cheap vodka and I paid. No reason to splurge when Heather brought her own refreshments to the party.

We hopped back into the car. Heather reached in her purse and opened the vial. She popped two more pills in her mouth and chewed them like candy. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I eased out of the parking lot.

"Easy with those," I told her.

She waited until I glanced over at her. She pointed to my brown paper bag. "I could say the same."

"Checkmate," I told her. We talked no more of that again.

* * *

The Royal Palms had passed its prime twenty years ago, after its last remodel. The paint was flecking off the exterior walls, and the pool, which had been filled in years ago, was still surrounded by a "temporary" chain link fence. The rooms were cheap, and it was my permanent address for the last three months. The only time Heather and I were at the Royal Palms together was when she dropped me off after one of my drunken benders and planted her panties in my bed.

She chuckled when I pulled into the lot.

"Something funny?" I asked her. I shut off the engine and waited for her answer before I got out.

"It's nothing... really."

"Just tell me Heather."

"This... this is where I meet my dealer."

I sighed. "Figures. I'm surprised I haven't seen you here before."

"Isn't life a wonder..." she mused. She was mocking me. I was already getting used to it.

She almost fell down when she got out of the car and had to put her hand on the roof to steady herself.

"Let's go to your room and get really fucked up," she said to me over the roof of the car.

I locked the doors, holding the paper bag. That sounded like a really good idea.

"OK."

She followed me up the outside stairs to my second floor room. I could hear the click of her heels on the concrete. Even that was sexy. I unlocked the door and flipped on the I lights. I pointed to her to enter first.

She stepped in, stopped, and looked around. There was half eaten food on paper plates, empty beer and vodka bottles cluttering the horizontal surfaces of the room, and a couple pizza boxes on their side next to an overflowing wastebasket. I wasn't proud of any of this. But that wasn't the point of this exercise.

"Nice place."

She smiled at me. She had a beautiful smile. She looked at me with faraway eyes. I knew that look. She was starting to fly.

I took my first bottle out of the bag and unscrewed the top. I looked for a clean paper cup, found one and poured three fingers. I took my first sip, closing my eyes and savoring the burn. That hot flash reminded me that I was alive. Maybe something was dying inside me and I wanted to wake it up.

"You sharing?" she asked. I forgot for a second that Heather was standing there staring at me.

I stuck out my hand that was holding the bottle. This woman was full of surprises.

"Sure," I answered.

She grabbed it from me and took a swig like a dockworker. Fuck.

Her eyes opened wide. Big bright beautiful blue eyes. I was still stone cold sober and so badly wanted to get drunk and fuck her.

"Fuck! That stuff is nasty." She made a spitting noise but nothing came out.

I reached for the bottle. I had already downed my first cup while I was watching her drink. "Do you want to give it back?"

She clutched it against her breast like a baby.

"Not yet. You'll like this."

She took two more pills out of the container and washed them down with another big swallow of cheap vodka.

She handed me the now half empty bottle. "Now you can have it."

This was not the put together, viper Heather.

"Wow, Heather, I didn't realize..."

"What Max? That I'm a junkie?"

"Well... yeah," I answered. She was movie star beautiful and was getting fucked up with a suspended cop in a seedy motel in a bad part of Cincinnati. That didn't exactly make sense.

"Nothing as it appears under the shiny wrapper. Am I not right? Look in the mirror Max."

She got me there. Substance abuse is a great equalizer. A junkie is a junkie is a junkie. I've seen judges, respected lawyers, doctors and politicians on skid row, sometimes with me. We were together because we shared the same pain.

"I just didn't expect it from..."

"Me? The cool and collected Heather? Max, you saw me when Shevchenko threatened my brother. I turned into a puddle of tears. There's not much underneath holding me together." She waved the bottle of pills in front of me. "It started with the pain from the operation, but in the end I discovered I needed this just to cope with life."

I had a bottle of vodka in my hand. Who was I to talk? I had my own crutch. I knew exactly what she was saying.

At that moment I wasn't thinking about Lehka. I was sure I'd never see her again. My thoughts were only on Heather, and she was in my room for one reason, and we both knew what that reason was. I decided to say it out loud.

"There's only the fucking now, isn't there Heather?"

She started unzipping the back of her dress and kicked off her heels. She fell sideways and held out her hand to catch herself using the bed.

"Oopsy," she said, regaining her balance.

She looked at me while she finished unzipping her dress. I watched her let it drop to the floor. I took another swallow of vodka and tossed the empty bottle towards the trash can. I looked back at her. She was posing for me in her frilly bra and panty set. I was being seduced. I loved it.

I started undressing as well. I was watching her while I was doing it. Heather reached behind herself to unhook her bra. She took it off, dangling it from her hand, so she was now only in her panties. Her tits were spectacular. I loved the pink nipples. I was naked. My arms had goosebumps all over them.

"Well Max?" she asked me.

I'd play along. "Well what?"

"Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Yes I was.

This was going to be raw sex. We had already shown each other our emotional wounds. This was sex born of desperation and urgency.

Heather fell backwards onto the bed. She bounced an inch and her hair flopped over, covering her face. She giggled when it happened. She looked so fucking sexy lying there for me. I used my hand to move her hair aside so I could see her face. She grabbed my wrist and tongued my index and middle finger. They were coated with her spit.

"Fuck me with these," she told me.

Just wow.

I reached down between her legs and found her panties were sopping wet. I slipped my hand under the lacy waistband and she raised her hips to help me take off her panties. Her pussy was neatly trimmed light brown hair. It was glossy with her honey. My two fingers slid easily into her slippery wet channel. She moaned into my lips as we kissed. She put her arm around the back of my head to hold me as we kissed. She snorted as I fucked her hard with two fingers. I captured her leg between mine so I could rub my wetness against her thigh.

"Max... ". The rest of whatever she was going to say was clipped off as she came, her eyes becoming bigger and her back gracefully arching. I kept fucking her hard.

"Yes...". Her thighs clamped together and tried to squeeze the life out of my hand.

I broke off the kiss and sucked hard on one of her pink nipples. Her hips raised higher.