Chapter Eleven

No one moved for a few minutes after Johnny Tran had walked out. No one knew what to do, what to say, nothing. All of them were still reeling from the events that had happened over the past few, from what it felt like anyway, hours. In all actuality, it had only been an hour.

Cris was the first one to move and to everyone else she seemed nothing less than a bolt of lightening. She moved so fast no one had time to react.

She started throwing beer bottles, empty or not, around the room, the glass shattering upon impact. She rushed out of the room and into the kitchen where she started doing the same thing.

She couldn't stop it. Everything she had worked so hard for, all the work she'd done to get over the past, was flooding over her again and this time she was helpless.

'No good to anyone', she kept thinking. 'Weak. Just like you were before.'

She heard scrambling in the living room and knew the guys would be in the kitchen soon enough.

She stood facing the stove, both hands on the counter, staring at her Colt 45. She hadn't even realized she'd still had it when she walked into the kitchen.

It seemed like an eternity before she turned around to find Rocky staring at her. Or maybe he was staring at the mess she'd made; she couldn't determine which.

"Cris," he hesitated before continuing, "you okay?"

"Rocky, don't," she held up a hand to stop him.

"Cris, don't shut me out. Talk to me," he took a step forwards and bumped into the table. When he looked up, he was again staring at the Colt 45, only this time it was pointed at him.

"Rico Sanchez, if you take one more step, I will fire this gun. Now, leave me the fuck alone," she never used his real name unless she was pissed.

The side door to the kitchen swung open and Bastian walked in. Cris immediately dropped the arm holding the Colt at Rocky and walked out.

Bastian looked at Rocky with a questioning look.

"Did I just miss something?" he asked.

Rocky shook his head, but not in response to Bastian's question.

"She's reverting back, bro. Johnny really shook her up."

Bastian sighed.

"If she goes back to it, I'll kick her ass m'self."

Cris rushed up to her room, locking the door behind her.

She dug through her sock drawer, looking for something. She located them quickly although it had been years since she'd needed them.

She opened the bottle, took out two, popped them in her mouth, then went into the bathroom adjoining her room, grabbed a cup of water, and took a swig.

After taking another swig, she dumped the rest down the sink, placed the cup on the counter and leaned against the wall.

After a few moments, she walked back into her room, closed the bottle, put it back in her sock drawer, closed it, and laid on the bed.

"Crisalyn Elaine Garcia, get your ass out here now!" Bastian yelled as he banged on the door.

"Bastian, leave me alone," she moaned, the bright light hitting her eyes.

"Crisalyn, open this door. NOW."

She groaned as she got out of bed and walked over to the door. The meds hadn't kicked in yet, so she was fine. Unlocking the door, she cracked it open and stood there.

"What?" she questioned.

"You using again?" he demanded.

"What! Are you fucking insane?" she screamed.

"No, I'm not insane. But I am worried. Johnny Tran just walked back into your life and when I just walked into the kitchen, you had your GUN pointed at Rocky. Now, what the fuck's going on?"
"Nothing, Bastian, nothing is going on, Jesus Christ!" she was frustrated. "Why do you always assume that I've gone back to using when something upsets me? Do you WANT me to start using again? 'Cause you seem to be pushing pretty damn hard!"

"Cris, he's just worried," Rocky said over the silence.

Both she and Bastian looked at him with surprise. Then she looked past Rocky to see Jagger.

"Shit!" she yelled.

"Cris, talk to us," Bastian argued.

"Bastian, I don't wanna talk, I don't wanna think, I don't wanna do anything! I just had that, that pendejo's hands on me. God, Bastian, do you know how that feels? It makes my fucking skin crawl!" the more she thought about it, the more disgusted she felt.

"I can help, we can help, Cris. But you can't shut us out," Bastian tried.

"Sorry, right now, I just want to be left alone," she answered.

"Afraid I can't do that," Jagger spoke up this time.

"Oh, now you wanna speak? Now, after all the shit that went down, NOW you wanna talk? No wonder Lisette died," she scoffed.

Neither Bastian nor Rocky were able to hold him back as he fought to get to Cris. Once there, he raised his hand to hit her upon instinct, but she grabbed him by the wrist.

"Now focus that energy into getting Johnny Tran back," she said under her breath so only he could hear.

Then she kissed him. She didn't know where it came from, it just happened.

When she realized what she'd done, she grabbed her keys and pushed past Bastian and Rocky, then began to make her way downstairs.

About halfway down, the meds kicked in. she grabbed the banister for support, but it was too late, she fell.