Chapter Twenty-Five
By now, the pounding in my skull had graduated to stabbing levels. "What friend?" I asked, though I knew the answer.
But I was talking to dead air. I clicked disconnect and threw the phone down on the sofa.
Like a zombie, I stumbled toward the bathroom, where I kept an emergency stash of Oxy buried deep behind the toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, and other toiletries stored under the sink. I grasped the pill bottle and almost ripped the top off in my haste to ease the endless pain.
Something stopped me from swallowing multiple tablets in one gulp. I'd been clean for so long. If I fell off the wagon now, where would it lead? If I OD-ed, what would happen to Terry? Then again, whoever had threatened me would be rid of me at that point. The horrid notion that Terry
