Rainhorse by Jesse Jacobson & Brotherhood Protectors World

Author:Jesse Jacobson & Brotherhood Protectors World [Jacobson, Jesse & World, Brotherhood Protectors]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Page Press, LLC
Published: 2018-07-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Lindsay could not help herself. She kept checking herself out in the small mirror she pulled from her purse. She had colored her hair in the past but never jet black. She had never liked the goth look she'd seen other girls wearing at school. She had always gone for a wavy, curlier, look. The flat iron had softened her curls and made her hair poker straight. The new hairstyle, accompanied by Neha’s darker makeup job, did give her a pronounced Native American look. She rather enjoyed it, actually.

“How is Ska doing?” Lindsay asked Ellie, before they left.

“She’s resting now,” Ellie said. “I called in a friend to stay with her. I’ll stay here until she gets here. Alonie is a private nurse who has assisted with helping meth users in the past.”

“Are you leaving?” Neha asked.

Ellie nodded, “I have patients to see today. I’ll check in from time to time and come back this evening. I gave Ska a little cocktail of bupropion and modafinil. I’m hoping it will allow her to sleep and relieve some of the cravings.”

“What do you mean, ‘hoping to?’” Lindsay asked.

“Meaning there is no FDA-approved medications for meth withdrawal,” Ellie said. “The medications I gave her have shown some effectiveness in helping addicts ween off meth cravings, but some of it is going to come down to toughing it out as the drugs naturally come out of her system.”

“Oh dear,” Lindsay said. “Does it hurt?”

“It will be uncomfortable, no doubt,” Ellie said. “All initial indications are that she was a regular user but did not use heavy doses. That will help. If the bupropion doesn’t work when we get back, I’ll start her on paroxetine. It’s stronger and might help. Don’t worry, meth use is very common on the res. Alonie has helped me more than a few times with users. She is capable, and she will call me if there’s a problem.”

“Thank you for everything,” Lindsay said.

“It’s what I do, dear,” she responded.

Lindsay got into Neha’s truck, an ancient Chevy that looked only modestly better than the truck Rainhorse had stolen, but the engine fired right up.

“We have a forty-five-minute drive,” Neha said. “Why don’t you tell me more about your friend . . . Jackson.”

“He made me promise to keep my mouth shut,” Lindsay said.

Neha glared at Lindsay, “I’m entrusting my daughter’s life with a man I thought I knew. Last night I discovered he was an assassin. It was a little unsettling. I’d think you’d understand why I want to know more.”

“Ok, I’ll talk,” she said, “But only because I think you have the wrong idea.”

“Tell me about this kidnapping,” Neha asked.

“Well, to begin with, Jackson worked for a cold-blooded murderer, a real character named Barnabas Quince . . .”

“You’re not making me feel better,” Neha said.

“Jackson was a paid assassin, true,” Lindsay said, “But he only killed drug warlords, other murderers, pimps and sex-traders.”

“But he kidnapped you,” Neha noted.

“Yes, but only because they forced him to. He was told at first, they would not hurt me.

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