What I Love Most

Chapter 10

Tig pulled up outside the giant Tudor style home, converted into apartments, where Amelia lived just as they were walking up the path to the front door. He watched Juice, with one arm around her shoulders, use his free hand to pick her spare from his key chain and Tig didn't like that. He hadn't even seen the place now that it was all set up but Juice already had a damn key. It didn't occur to him it was for situations such as this one or that he hadn't made an effort to see her place whereas Juice actually helped hang a few photos on the wall and rearrange some furniture once it was delivered.

"I got it from here." Tig said reaching for Amelia as the door creaked open. "Thanks for driving her."

Pulling a face Juice looked for confirmation from Amelia, he could see she didn't agree. "I'm good, you can come up but I'm gonna stay."

"I can come up?" Tig laughed angrily at that, suddenly the kid had balls and he didn't shy away from showing it. He took a step back and stared at Juice with his hands on his hips. "This is my daughter's apartment. Meels, baby, you want me to stay with you, right? Tell Juice he can go home."

"You can come up, Dad but I want JC here too."

It was highly inappropriate but Juice couldn't help the little grin on his lips. He liked that she had his back but more importantly that she was standing up for herself and what she wanted. When they got inside the unit, Juice dug through her bag for her medication and dropped one pill into her hand. "Let me get you some water."

"What's that?" Trying to speak softly and ignore his rage Tig sat beside her as Juice moved around the kitchen with ease. He already knew where everything was.

"Lorazepam, anti-anxiety medication, it's just a low dose." She popped it in her mouth and chugged the water Juice handed her. Slowly he ran his hand up and down her back to soothe her and it certainly helped. Juice could feel the tension radiating from Tig and he knew it wasn't helping Amelia at all.

"What's going on with you?" The tone, heavy with criticism, wasn't intentional but they all picked up on it. "I thought you were doing better."

"I was," she said defensively. "I am. I'm just having a bad day."

The men glanced at each other, Juice filled with worry but Tig had an accusatory look in his eyes. "Is she still going to her therapist? Taking her pills every day?"

"She's a grown woman, you can ask her yourself."

"I am," Amelia snapped again before he could repeat himself. "Meds every day, therapist once a week."

"Then what's going on?"

She turned into Juice and refused to let Tig upset her any further. Amelia knew he just didn't understand but it still hurt to have her father speak to her like that.

"Dad, I don't know," she spoke loud enough to be hear although the words were muddled by Juice. "I know I was doing better and I'm sorry I can't just snap out of this shit."

She had been and that was what made this exceptionally hard for her, Tig and Juice. The small things Clay had been doing to maximize the lack of medication, which on it's own wouldn't have such a large effect, were hard to pinpoint. They seemed like necessary jobs and weren't anything too out of the ordinary. He loved keeping Juice and Tig later, sending them on runs and long watch shifts together to isolate Amelia and send her deeper into the melancholy. His personal favorite tactic though was misinformation. When she was around he'd somehow mention something involving her, Tig or Juice but without the right details, maybe the time was wrong or something small enough to be easily mistaken. If asked, Clay never had any memory of saying anything, rather than seeing the truth she began to doubt herself. The confusion was really taking its toll on Amelia as she began to think she was truly going crazy. Who would ever suspect something so insidious?