Into The Deep End - A Roman Reigns Story

28

If I scare you now
Don't run from me
I've been hiding my pain, you see...

They were on the road again, driving for half an hour now, each area they passed looking more and more deserted. Where they were going, Sasha had no clue. She wanted to ask him questions but there was no doubt that he would bite her head off if presented with the chance. So she was forced to sit quietly in the passenger side and reflect on what she'd witnessed in the Anoa'i residence.

She'd never seen Joe so angry, never heard him speak like that to anyone, let alone his parents. It was like observing an unwatched pressure cooker explode. And that was exactly what it was. Unwatched. Because this anger and rage hadn't come from nowhere. Joe was hotheaded, yes. But it was nothing compared to this. Judging from his family's reactions, they hadn't seen it coming either, and Sasha had to wonder; how are you not aware that the volcano sitting by your house would sooner or later erupt? Or had they all just chosen to close their eyes and cross their fingers and hope it would remain dormant? It was all very unsettling for her.

At last, they pulled up at a driveway, stopping in front of a secluded house that stood about a hundred feet away from a beach. From her vantage point inside the car Sasha could see the beautiful scenery with the sun setting above the waves. She would probably have taken the time to admire all of it if there wasn't a very pressing matter at hand.

"You shouldn't have talked to your mother like that," she said to Joe once he killed the engine, her voice stern. "Or your father."

His jaw twitched. "I was defending you. Remember?"

"I was handling her."

"And you were doing such a great job," he responded coldly, throwing his door open with unwarranted force. He trudged up the boardwalk and into the house, not looking back once. Sasha followed him, keeping her distance. Standing at the front door she glanced around, immediately noting similarities between this house and Joe's in Tampa. Her thoughts were confirmed by how easily Joe moved around, clearly familiar with the surroundings. He stalked into the kitchen area and pulled out a bottle of what looked like alcohol from an overhead cabinet. Jack Daniels, to be specific. He unscrewed the top with shaking hands and took a large sloppy gulp. Yanking out something from inside his pocket he slammed it on the granite countertop. He took out some of its contents and tossed it into his mouth, then took another drink.

With narrowed eyes Sasha advanced, and was shocked to see that damn prescription bottle again. Even more shocking was that the last time she'd seen the contents, roughly two days ago, it was about halfway full; now there were barely ten of them left. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "You straight-up pill poppin' now? With alcohol?! Are you kidding me?"

Joe snatched the painkillers and stuffed it back into his pocket. He took another swig from the bottle. He wiped his mouth. "Don't worry about it."

There it was again, that robotic, monotonous answer he'd been dishing out for weeks in the hopes of keeping her quiet. But she would be silent no more. She was sick to death of being lied to. "Do not play dumb with me!" she shot back angrily, "I am done hearing that bullshit answer! You been poppin' pills like fuckin' M&Ms for weeks! How long has this habit been going on for, huh? When we started dating? Before? Is this what you're really like?" She planted her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders. "Are you a junkie?"

Joe spun around, looking at her in anger and disbelief. "Really? Is that what you think of me?"

She met his gaze evenly. "What do you want me to think? You're clearly abusing your prescription medicine. The label says four a day but you're obviously taking more. Forget my well fuckin' documented hatred for drugs, how about you think about what you're doing to yourself! And when did you start mixing it with fuckin' alcohol? What are you thinking?"