My Fall and Rise Ch. 10

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The joy ride ends for Melissa and Nicky.
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Part 10 of the 13 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/09/2017
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MelissaBaby
MelissaBaby
893 Followers

Love Is Like a Dying Ember

I imagine that if Nicky could have scripted an end to the big joy ride, we would have gone out in a cinematic blaze of glory. Maybe we would have soared off some high cliff into the ocean, holding hands and professing our eternal love for one another all the way down. I knew that what we were doing was not sustainable. I figured, unrealistically, that at some point, we would decide we had made enough money to ride off to some safe haven where we would spend the rest of our days together in bliss. A beach in the Caribbean perhaps, or a villa in Spain. But realistically, I thought it more likely that it would all end on a routine traffic stop with some county deputy popping the truck of the car, and long jail terms for both of us.

I first started to worry that things were going wrong when Nicky decided that he would no longer sell the marijuana he grew with his brother Wayne. It really wasn't a bad business decision. Pot is labor intensive. It's bulky. It can go punky on you, it can get moldy. Pills are easier to deal and yield more profit. It wasn't the decision to stop selling it as much as the way he went about it that troubled me. He just decided to stop selling the pot without any warning. Wayne showed up at the cabin as he always had, toting a duffel bag stuffed with tightly wrapped ounces. Nicky told him that he wasn't going to deal it anymore, leaving his brother with a bag full of product he had no way to sell. Wayne tried to get an answer as to why Nicky had made his decision, but he would not answer him, and just continued to load the car for our delivery run. When we drove away, Wayne was still standing in the driveway, holding his duffel bag and imploring his brother to tell him why we had cut him out.

I wanted to know that as well.

"I just don't feel like I can trust him anymore," he explained.

"Nicky, he's your brother."

"Yeah, but he's small time, and we aren't small time anymore. It's a whole new ballgame, and he's not up to it. Do you think, if he got busted, he wouldn't narc us out on everything?"

"Actually, no, I don't think he would. Besides, Nicky, that's giving up some good money if we don't sell the pot."

"Don't worry about it, baby, I've got things in the works."

"What things? Nicky, we are are in this together, don't just do stuff and not tell me about it."

He just shrugged and the conversation ended. In the past, he had always valued my opinion, but more and more lately, he was dismissive of what I had to say.

One of the dangers of long term cocaine use is that can induce paranoia. I felt some of this myself, but I turned it inward, twisting it into self doubt and feelings of inadequacy. Nicky directed it outward. When we made deliveries, he would count the money, then, once we were in the car, he would count it again, and have me double check his count. Sometimes, he would question my count, and do it yet again himself. He started driving winding, out of the way routes from deal to deal, because he was afraid we were being followed.

I allowed myself to overlook his paranoia when it was directed towards others, but before long, I felt it directed at me. He would quiz me at length about men I had been with, what I had done with them, how long it had been since I had seen them. I repeatedly had to deny that I had ever fucked any of our customers.

But worse than the paranoia was the arrogance. The reason cocaine is so popular with performers is that it amplifies your sense of self assurance. You don't just feel good when you are high, you feel good about yourself. You feel like you can do anything. But enough coke over a long period and you start feeling that way about everything, all the time. Nicky had always been cocky, but he was becoming overbearing. While earlier, he had taken pride in being a big tipper whenever we ate in restaurants, now the service was never good enough for him. He was becoming snide and condescending with our own customers. I could see more than a few of them looking back at him with expressions of resentment.

We were making a drop at a run down motel just outside of one of the northern mill towns. The customers were a middle aged couple, Ernie and Wanda, who usually made a substantial buy and resold most of it in smaller downs further north. It was usually a good stop. They would invite us in and share a joint with us. It was like the early days, when we rode around selling pot, and everything was casual and friendly.

When we pulled up in front of their room this time, Ernie came out. He seemed tired and upset, wringing his hands and shuffling his feet, and he kept looking back at the door.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" he said as we approached him.

Nicky looked around apprehensively. He was leery of any changes in routine, and Ernie had never met us outside before. It wasn't the sort of thing you did, greeting your drug dealer in the middle of a public parking lot for anyone to see.

"What's up, Ernie?" Nicky asked. "Let's go inside."

Ernie looked at his feet and shook his head. "No, man. Wanda, she's really sick. Some kind of infection or something."

I told him I was sorry, that I hoped she'd feel better soon, but Nicky stood with his hands on his hips and an expression of annoyance on his face.

"Yeah, that's too bad, but I'm not handing off right out in the open."

Ernie shook his head more emphatically. "No, no, you don't understand. She's been sick and I been here with her. We didn't sell the last batch yet, we can't buy no more."

Nicky became infuriated. "We drove two fucking hours to get here, and you don't want the shit?" he barked at Ernie.

"Nicky, keep it down." I said.

"Fuck this. As far as I'm concerned, you ordered it, you pay for it."

Ernie cringed. "Man, I told you, my old lady has been sick. We don't have no money to pay for that."

Nicky grabbed the front of Ernie's shirt. "If you didn't sell what you bought last time, go get it. Give it back, that will pay us for our fucking trouble coming up here."

"Man, we ain't got but about half of it left."

Nicky drew back his fist. I stepped in front of him, trying to calm him down.

"Nicky, no, don't. Cool down."

He turned away and paced a circle in the parking lot. When he came back around, he was calmer, but still obviously angry.

"Listen, man," Ernie said, "I'm sorry. You know, we are out money too, right? She got sick, what would you say if it was Melissa, right? I mean, you'd say fuck all that shit, I gotta take care of my girl, right?"

Nicky stared at him and didn't answer. That raised my anxiety level more than a little bit. I would have liked to hear his answer. Finally, he shrugged.

"Alright, Ernie, what about next week?"

"I don't know, man."

"Nicky?" I interrupted. They both looked at me. "We sold to Ernie how many times? Twenty? We never had any problem before. We can sell his shit to someone else this week. It's good business. Maybe we take a hit this week, but we keep our relationship with a good customer in a good place."

He liked thinking of himself as a businessman. He nodded. "Alright Ernie, but don't dick us around next week, or we're done. Right?"

They shook hands.

"What about what's left from last week?"

"Keep it," I said, not waiting for Nicky to say something counterproductive. "Try to sell it. Otherwise, you won't have the cash to buy next week."

Ernie went back inside, and we went to the car. Once we were inside Nicky asked me, "You don't think he's going to sell any of it, do you?"

"No, I think they are using it all."

"That fucks us over."

"Honey, you're going to lose customers sometimes. That's business, it's not personal."

He laughed at that.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You sound like the Godfather." He did an impersonation so bad that I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be Marlon Brando or Al Pacino. "Don't take it personal, it's just business." He laughed again. "Going to call you Melissa Corleone from now on."

I wasn't concerned about the situation with Ernie and Wanda, and put it out of my mind. We were bringing in a lot of money. Of course, we were spending it almost as fast as we were making it. I've wondered since how much money went up our noses. It had to have been hundreds of thousands of dollars. But Nicky took the matter much more seriously. A few days later, he made a shopping run into the city. When he came back, he had a big grin on his face.

I was sitting on the bed, reading. He sat beside me. There was a plastic shopping bag in his hand.

"Wait until you see this!" He exclaimed. He took a box out of the bag and opened it. He took out an object and held it up.

It was a gun.

"Oh,Nicky," I moaned. But he didn't hear me. He was too caught up in his excitement.

"It's a Glock 17," he told me, and recited all the specs about the caliber and the weight and how it was the favorite handgun of law enforcement, but the only thing I wanted to know was why he had decided he needed to buy it.

"Well, think about that shit with Ernie," he said, "that could have gotten out of hand."

I did not point out to him that Ernie had been passive, even obsequious, and that he'd been the only one to exhibit any violence.

"You've got to get used to the idea that we've moved up in the world, baby. And the world is a dangerous place."

The question of why I didn't get out when it became obvious that Nicky's mental state was deteriorating will haunt me forever. I loved him though, and I didn't feel endangered. I didn't believe he'd ever do anything to hurt me. And I thought that if I left him, he would probably become more paranoid and hurt himself or someone else. Leaving him might be the best option for me, but I wanted to find a way to make things right for the two of us, together.

And, of course, there was the cocaine. Looking back, I realize that I could have snuck out of bed one night, taken all the drugs, all the money and the car, and gone off to start a new life somewhere far away. But that idea never entered my mind at the time, for one simple, clear reason.

I loved him.

Things were not all bad. There were stretches of time when he was his old self, and no matter how many times he would slip into irrationality, I would cling to those better moments like a lifeline.

We were driving down a wooded road late one afternoon near the end of September. We came around a curve and in front of us, saw a beautiful vista. The woods opened into a gently sloping meadow, and across the open field, our view stretched all the way to the peaks of the White Mountains. Nicky pulled off the road and drove a short way into the meadow.

It was the golden hour, when the sun grows weak and the light seems to make everything glow. We stopped and got out. I walked a little way down the meadow slope, through fading goldenrod that rose past my waist. It reminded me of walking through the wildflowers around the cabin on the day, more than a year earlier, when Nicky and I began our life together. The light was soft around us, but the mountains cast a shining white reflection. I gazed at them for a few minutes, then closed my eyes. I could still see their glowing shapes on the inside of my eyelids.

I turned and saw Nicky leaning on the hood of the car watching me. As I walked back, he opened his arms to me and I stepped into them, and into his kiss.

"When's the last time we saw another car on this road?" he asked.

"Probably an hour ago."

"Good," he replied, sliding his hands inside the back of my jeans. I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest. He pushed and tugged at my jeans until they were around my thighs. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair.

"Mel, look," he whispered. I opened my eyes as he turned me around. A doe was gingerly crossing the meadow, not more than a hundred feet from us. She watched us cautiously as she made her way through the flowers and into the trees.

Nicky wrapped his arms around me. His hand made it's way between my thighs as he kissed the hollows of my shoulders and the back of my neck. I reveled in the moment and would have been happy to let it last forever, but when he gently turned me and bent me down across the hood of the car, I was ready for him.

The hood was still warm from the engine and the sun's late rays when I laid my cheek on it. Nicky's hands were on my waist, and in a moment, His cock was inside me. I raised my ass and arched my back to greet him. He fucked me slowly at first, and I felt lost in a dreamy state of pleasure. Gradually, his motions became more passionate, and I responded in kind, pushing back to take his thrusts. His hands moved to my shoulders and he held me tightly. There was nothing in my mind but an appreciation of the intense pleasure. When I came, my back stiffened and I rose from the car. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held firm while he finished inside me. I laid back across the hood. He stood behind me, rubbing my lower back. I could feel his wet cock, still half hard, between my thighs, and I squeezed them tightly together.

"I've got you now." I murmured.

"You had me the first time I set eyes on you." he replied.

I loved him. Despite all that happened, I still cherish the memory of that golden evening. There wouldn't be any more like it.

The only time Nicky showed any humility was when we would meet with Nate to pick up our weekly supply of oxy. He was not just humble, but sycophantic towards him. He looked at him as a role model. The idea of being "big time" had become Nicky's obsession. I wondered why, if Nate was such a big shot, he was meeting us in out of the way places in the middle of the night? Didn't he have someone to do that sort of thing for him? I was never comfortable around him. He always looked at me with a leering smirk. He made my skin crawl, but Nicky was always exuberant after the meetings, like a boy who had just gotten an autograph from his favorite ballplayer.

We were returning from one of our pick up trips. It was very late and there was very little traffic on the highway. We pulled into a rest area to use the bathrooms and get some snacks from the vending machines. There were no other cars in the parking lot. We both went inside, each into our appropriate facility.

When I came out, Nicky was leaning in the doorway of the men's room, wearing what I had long since learned to recognize as his "horny grin". He took me by the arm and pulled me to him. As we kissed in the doorway, he began walking backwards, leading me into the room.

"Nicky, no. Somebody might come in." I said, although I was giggling. He had been so moody lately, it was good to see him acting playful.

"It's not like we never fucked in a public bathroom," he replied.

"Yeah, but with the door locked."

He steered me into one of the stalls. "Christ, it smells awful in here," I said as he yanked my sweat pants down to my knees. He silenced my complaints with kisses. I rubbed his cock through his pants while his hands roamed over my ass and between my thighs.

Nicky sat down on the toilet. His elbow hit the flush handle and we both jumped at the sound of the rushing water. He slipped his jeans down below his knees and stroked his cock. I fingered myself while I watched him. He seems like his old self again. I kicked off my pants and climbed on his lap. He slipped right inside me. I nuzzled his hair and savored the smell of him while I rode his cock, gyrating my hips and delighting to his moans.

I heard a sound behind me and I turned to look over my shoulder.

"Oh shit!" I cried.

There was a man standing outside the stall, watching us. He was a big guy, dressed in work clothes, probably a truck driver. He had his cock in his hand.

"Oh hey, man," Nicky said nonchalantly. "How's it going?"

I was scrambling to reach my pants, which had gotten kicked behind the toilet.

"Going okay," The man said gruffly. He looked at me. "You tricking, honey?"

"No, man, she's my girlfriend," Nicky told him.

"Oh, too bad," he said, "Well, good for you, I guess. I was hoping I could get a blowjob."

"Well, what the fuck. Melissa, give this dude a blowjob."

"Nicky, no." I said.

"Oh, come on baby, it will be hot. I want to watch you blow him."

"You said you didn't want to ever see me with another guy."

"And you said you wanted to try it, so come on."

The man just stood there and listened to us argue.

"It would make me happy, baby. It's not like he's going to fuck you. I mean, what the hell, you've sucked a lot of dicks, what's one more?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "It would make you happy?" I asked him icily.

"Oh yeah, it would."

"Fine," I said. I got down on my knees facing the stranger. Nicky leaned in behind me, angling for a closer look. The man stepped forward and held his cock in front of my face. I took it in my mouth. It tasted sweaty. Nicky reached around and began to caress my breasts, but I pushed his hands away.

I tried to suck the man off as quickly as I could, but he kept pulling back. I grabbed the fabric of his pants with both hands and held him in place. I began sucking hard and he got a bit wobbly in the knees, holding on to the top of the stall to keep his balance. Nicky ran his hands through my hair and then then took a handful in each fist. The stranger began roughly fucking my mouth while Nicky held my head in place for him.

"Good bitch," the man grunted, "suck that fucking cock."

I started to gag and Nicky let go of my hair. I pulled back just as the man came, shooting his load across my face.

I sputtered and spit out the cum that had gotten in my mouth, reaching for the toilet paper dispenser. I tried to pull off enough tissue to wipe my face, but only a few sheets tore off. I tried again, and once more, only came away with a couple of sheets. I was so frustrated I began slapping the dispenser.

Nicky took hold of me, pinning my arms to my sides. He attempted to calm me down. The trucker had disappeared. I struggled against Nicky, kicking at him. My foot caught him in the ankle and he fell, half on top of me. I scuttled out of the stall.

"Give me my fucking pants," I screamed at him. He got my pants from behind the toilet and handed them to me.

"Jeezum, Melissa," he said, "I don't know why you are so pissed off."

"Fuck you, Nicky."

I stood up, pulled on my pants and walked out the door. He rushed to catch up with me, and caught me by the arm just as I stepped out of the building. He spun me around, and I pushed him away. He pushed back and I fell to the sidewalk, scraping the palms of my hands. I staggered to my feet and began to cross the parking lot towards the exit ramp. It was chilly and I had left my coat in the car, but I was determined to walk away.

"Goddamn it, Mel," Nicky called after me, "What are you going to do, walk all the way home?"

I gave him the finger over my shoulder.

I heard the car door slam and then the engine start. A moment later, he pulled up alongside me on the exit ramp.

He lowered the passenger window. "Come on, honey, get in the car."

I kept walking, and he kept rolling along beside me.

"Mel, it's like a hundred miles. And nobody's going to pick you up with me driving along next to you."

I stopped and turned to face him through the window. My fists were clenched and my hands were burning with pain.

"You fucking told me we would never do that," I snapped.

"And you said you were okay with it."

"That's not the fucking point."

"So, what's the point, Mel?"

"The point is, all of a sudden, you are okay with it."

"It seemed like it would be cool. I didn't know you'd get upset."

I knew that he would never understand. I had been worrying about his state of mind of weeks, and now it seemed that something fundamental had changed in the way he thought about me. I no longer felt that, whatever happened, I was safe with him, and that terrified me.

MelissaBaby
MelissaBaby
893 Followers
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