"Dr D?" Roni called from down the hall. Erik spun on his heels, eyes wide. Picking up the pace, she hurried toward him. "You're as white as a ghost."
"Where is Angel?"
"In the courtyard. He wanted some air." Roni frowned. "Are you okay?"
Erik's shoulders relaxed as he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Yes, Roni. Everything is fine, now. Thank you for taking care of my patient."
"Of course."
His eyes shifted away from her, toward the common area. A small smile curled the corner of his lips. Angel hadn't left. He hadn't quit the program. There was still hope, still a chance that Angel's true path would soon know the sound of his sober footfalls.
Erik gave Roni a nervous nod before excusing himself to find his patient. It took a lot of effort to tamp down the excitement and a few deep breaths to slow his racing heart. By the time he made it to the double doors, he'd somehow managed to completely compose himself. Then he saw Angel sitting on the metal bench beneath the biggest tree in the courtyard. His smile widened.
For a long moment, he stood back and watched the kid, the way he hugged his notepad against his chest and drew his knees up tight to his body, the way the sun shimmered against his black hair and the sheen of sweat on his face.
"Sweat?" Erik whispered, his expression fading into a frown. Detox. He'd thought for sure the worst of it would've been over by now.
He pushed through the doors, heading straight for the empty spot beside his patient. Angel didn't budge, as if he hadn't heard Erik's noisy loafers approaching him. He sat down and stared straight ahead, just like Angel was doing. "You okay?" he asked in a low, even voice.
"Yeah. Fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Erik nodded. He shifted in the seat, turning a little more toward Angel. With a smile on his face, he set the bag in his patient's lap and said, "I brought you something."
Angel's brow arched. He looked down at the bag then back up at Erik.
"Go ahead. Open it."
Angel hesitated. If Erik didn't know better, he would've thought a gift was a foreign idea to the kid, like no one ever gave him anything just for the sake of giving, like everything came with a price. Angel finally opened the bag, slowly parting the edges of the paper. And when he looked inside, his eyes softened and his lips pursed. Erik's heart raced with anticipation.
"You didn't have to do this."
"You don't even know what it is."
"It's an art set and a pad and a book."
"So you are an artist?"
"Was."
"Why 'was'? Why aren't you an artist anymore?"
"After I started doing drugs, I lost focus. I couldn't draw a straight line to save my life."
"But you did last night. That sketch of me was amazing."
"Doc," Angel said as he lifted his dark eyes. That didn't sound like thanks in Angel's voice. God, Erik had messed up. Maybe the gift insulted Angel. Maybe it was too much too soon. "I appreciate that you have all this faith in me," Angel said, "but I don't get it. What are you trying to do? Why are you paying so much attention to me?"
"Because I do have faith in you. Angel," Erik touched his knee. He told himself it was nothing lewd, nothing that crossed the ethical gray line. "You're smart and talented. I would hate to see such amazing potential wasted on drugs. You're an artist. Use your talent, Angel."
"I've been working, trying to get it back." He lifted the box from the bag, opened it all the way until a rainbow of colors spilled from beneath the dark wood. The sight of it impressed Erik and he didn't know what Angel would even use half of the stuff for, but that really didn't matter to him as long as Angel liked it. Without looking back up, Angel said, "This is perfect, Dr Daniels. Thank you so much."
"You can do this, Angel. You can be an artist. You can be anything you set your mind to, but you can't do drugs. You won't get anywhere being high all the time."
"I know," Angel said, nodding his head slowly. A single tear fell from his eye and dripped onto the bag. "I don't want to be a junkie anymore."
Seeing that single, lonely tear ripped something apart inside of Erik. He couldn't stand to see Angel suffering. No one should have to go through what he'd been through. No one should ever have to walk the world alone. Erik wrapped his arms around his patient's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Angel's tears fell harder and faster, and in that moment, Erik knew he would never let the kid down. He would do everything in his power to be there and to support him. Erik would see Angel through to a complete recovery then spend every night of his life praying that the angel never fell from grace again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Angel kept himself so busy with his art that he was pretty much been oblivious to the passing of days. He noticed the side-effects of his detox easing, but hadn't thought about it much. The lines and colors of each new drawing kept his mind focused on prettier things. Those things made his reality much more manageable. It gave color and vitality to the dark and dreary. But most importantly, it helped keep him sane.
He truly hadn't realized another two weeks had passed and he'd been okay with not keeping track of the time. It made him forget about the world outside of the facility where the sober, healthy people roamed free. It made dealing with the idea of going back into that world as a rehabilitated junkie much easier. He'd been content with being lost in a world without time until Nurse Roni tapped on his door and said it was visitor's day.
"No one is coming to see me!" he yelled.
She slowly opened the door, peeked her head inside, and smiled. "Yes, actually, someone has."
Angel looked up at her, his brow wrinkled. "Who the hell came to see me?"
"Why don't you go see for yourself?"
"I don't want to visit with anyone."
"Angel," she said as she stepped inside the room. Roni sat beside him on the bed, glanced down at the sketch he'd been working on then back up at Angel. He squirmed uncomfortably. "You need to confront people. You need to face the world. If you don't, how do you expect to go back to it?"
"I'm not ready."
"Yes, you are."
"How do you know?"
"You've been talking to Dr Daniels about the things you've done. You've been making great progress. You're ready, Angel."
"Will you at least tell me who it is?"
"Cute boy. Long blonde hair. Bright blue eyes." She smiled. "I didn't sign him in so I don't know his name. I just heard him ask for you."
Angel smiled as he ran his fingers through his longer-than-he-liked-it, pitch-black hair. "Jon. It's my best friend, Jon. I can't believe he actually came here."
"So, go see him."
"I was really mean to him the last time I saw him."
"He's obviously forgiven you."
With a sigh, Angel tucked his drawings away in the pad Dr Daniels had given him. The idea of seeing Jon again made him more than a little twitchy. It seemed like every nerve and muscle in his body was spazzing on him. He looked over at Roni, then stood from the bed and ran his hands over his clothes to smooth them down before doing the same to his hair.
"Do I look okay?" His voice held a bit of nervous quiver.
"Perfect," the kind nurse said, her endearing eyes giving him a small measure of comfort. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."
She held out her hand, fingers slightly curled in offering. Angel simply stared. He hadn't held a woman's hand since the day he'd left home and his mother had begged him not to leave. She'd held on to both his hands as Angel dragged her out of the house with him. That day, he'd screamed curses at his mother, crying as he'd begged her to just let him go. That had been one of the most painful moments of his life. He loved his mother. What had happened, the reason he'd left home, hadn't been her fault.
Jaw clenched, he took a deep breath and wrapped his hand around Roni's. A long moment of silent stares passed between them. She smiled again, giving his hand a little squeeze. Angel took the first step toward the door
and Roni followed him.
They walked hand-in-hand out of his room and into the hall. Neither one uttered a word, not that any words would've made this easier. Angel just needed the support and that's what Roni gave him by staying with him and holding his hand. When they entered the common area, he spotted Jon immediately. He was the brightest star in a sea of dreariness. He was the rainbow after the storm, everything beautiful in Angel's ugly world.
"Angel!" Jon screamed from across the room. Heads rose. Faces turned. Jon started into a full run, charging right toward him. He threw his arms around Angel's neck just as Angel released Roni's hand. "I've missed you so much."
Angel wrapped his arms around Jon's waist. He just held onto him for a moment, letting the feeling of being close to his best friend again really sink in. "I've missed you too," he whispered.
"I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me."
"Yeah, I…" Angel raised his head, looked at Jon and sighed. He looked around the room, at all the other patients with their friends and family. The room had become pretty noisy and the conversation Angel wanted to have with Jon deserved a little peace and quiet. "Let's go out to the courtyard. We can talk out there."
Taking Jon's hand, Angel led him past the happy and not-so-happy families. He tried to ignore the girl screaming at her mother that this was all her fault and the counselor who was trying his best to calm the situation. He ignored the couple doing a very bad job of hiding in the corner while they made out.
They went out to Angel's favorite bench beneath the tree, the place where he and Dr Daniels always went to have their talks. Jon sat down first and Angel took the spot beside him. The uncomfortable silence came back. Angel didn't know where to start. He'd never been good with apologies anyway and this one needed to be huge. Epic even.
"Jon," Angel said as he reached down and grabbed Jon's hand. He held it between his, took a few calming breaths, and tried like hell to organize his thoughts. "I'm really lucky to have you in my life, and I know that."
"I'm the lucky—"
"No. Don't do that. Let me finish, okay?"
"Okay," Jon said softly.
"I've put you through hell and I've been a dick to you, but you have to know, it wasn't you. It wasn't me. It was the drugs. When I told you I didn't want you in my life anymore, it was the drugs talking. You're the only person who has ever truly stood by me and I've been an ass to you. You saved my life and I tried to push you away. I think, now that I'm clean, I realize a part of me always loved you. I know I always cared about you, but I loved you for being there for me."
Jon's eyes widened. "I don't know what to say. You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that to me." He sat back against the bench, head lowered as he fidgeted with their clasped hands. In a voice so low Angel could barely hear it, Jon said the words Angel never expected him to say.
"Angel, I… I've met someone."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"You've… met someone." Angel nodded, sitting back against the metal bench. He tried like hell to keep the shock out of his eyes, to keep the grave disappointment from flushing his face. Wasn't it supposed to always be Angel and Jon? He never really meant to push Jon away in the first place, and damn sure hadn't expected him to move on. "So, um… is it serious?"
Angel stared, tried to keep a stoic face as Jon put on his best nonchalant smile and waved his hand in the air. It took a hell of a lot of effort to hide the sinking feeling in his gut, and Jon just shrugged the whole thing off.
"It's too soon to tell. We've been on like… two dates. I met him in English Lit."
"Wait." Angel's brow arched. "Did you say English Lit? You're in school?"
This time Jon's lips curled into an absolutely genuine smile. Angel would be lying if he said he didn't like seeing that radiant happiness on Jon's face. He would also be lying if he denied the fact it made him more than a little jealous.
"Yeah," Jon said. "Started last week. It's just community college, but at least it's something, right?"
"Right."
Jon cleared his throat as he leaned forward in his seat. "So, how have you been? Things getting better for you?"
"Oh, yeah." Angel sat back and spread his arms wide across the back of the metal bench. He made damn sure to exude an air of confidence, even if he didn't feel confident about a damn thing anymore. "I haven't wanted to get high in a while. I've been spending time sketching. It feels good to draw again. I haven't done that since I left Maine. Dr Daniels got me this really nice art set and a sketch pad. He says I have talent, wants to see me do something with it."
"That's great, Angel." Jon beamed as his hand clapped Angel's thigh.
Angel stiffened at the touch. "Yeah. Maybe I'll be some big-time artist someday." He laughed it off as a joke, but really, he didn't have much else to look forward to—especially now that Jon had someone else to look up to.
Angel took stock of the people in the courtyard, the late afternoon sun shining through the treetop canopy over his favorite bench. Angel really wanted to find a way out of this situation. He didn't want to hear Jon gloat about school or a new boyfriend. And honestly, Jon's presence alone made him regret a lot of things, made him wish he'd done things differently. Jon became a reminder of how badly he screwed everything up, and how hard it would be to make things right.
He half listened to Jon blabber on about school and the new guy, and the more Jon spoke, the more Angel wanted to get the hell away from him. He wanted to find someone else, someone who would love and look up to him the way Jon used to.
Then, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Dr Daniels watching from the window. His jaw clenched as their eyes met. He quickly looked back to Jon. "Look, I hate to rush you off," he interrupted his best friend's ramblings, "but I have my session with Dr Daniels in a few minutes, so I really need to get back inside."
"Right. I understand."
Jon stood. Angel stood. They stared at each other, sharing an awkward moment of indecision. To hug or not to hug, that truly was the question of the hour. Jon finally broke that uncomfortable moment by pulling Angel into his arms. He buried his face against Angel's neck and said, "It was good to see you. You look good, Angel. I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks," Angel muttered as he stared out over Jon's shoulder. His head turned slightly, enough to catch another glimpse of Dr Daniels from the corner of his eye. "I really need to get going."
"Right," Jon said as his arms dropped. "Will I see you again?"
"Sure. I'll probably have another visitor day before I leave. You could always come."
"I would like that."
Angel backed away slowly, gave Jon one last staged smile before turning for the door. Maybe if he just ignored the pain in his heart, it would go away. Maybe if he didn't think about Jon's eyes, he wouldn't feel them staring holes into his back.
He shoved through the glass double doors and into the common room, grabbing Dr Daniels' arm and pulling him along as he stormed through the center's hall. "You want me to open up. Well, get ready for this."
"What's wrong?" Erik asked, but before he had a chance to utter another word or demand an answer, Angel pulled him into his room and slammed his back against the wall.
Angel gripped the good doctor's face, thumbs pressing against his cheeks, fingers wrapped around the back of his head. Then, he planted his lips on Dr Daniels's mouth. Eyes closed, Angel pressed himself hard against the doctor's body. His tongue threaded over the seam of his pinched lips, begged for just one taste, just one good kiss to go to sleep to that night. One good kiss would take away the hurt and betrayal.
Chapter Thirty
Erik's eyes widened. He started to push the kid away, but the desperation in the kiss, the absolute need, consumed him. The attraction he felt to Angel blossomed in an almost scary way. He's my patient. He's my patient, Erik silently repeated to himself, but he couldn't deny how good it felt to have someone kiss him again. Someone who wasn't his ex-partner. Someone who needed him to be the strong on
e, who appreciated what he had to give. Someone who knew his suffering and shared the same burden.
Even though it was most definitely not the right thing to do, Erik opened his mouth a little wider and let Angel's tongue slip inside. He let himself become lost in the taste and feel of Angel invading his mouth—just like Angel's presence had invaded his life. And God help him, his hand found the slender curve of his patient's waist and held him there so the kiss wouldn't break. He seemed to need this as much as Angel did.
In that moment, with their mouths locked in a twist of passion, the moral gray line ceased to exist. The standard of ethics fell by the wayside. There was really no thought of anything more than the feel of another man pressed against his body and claiming his lips like he owned them. In that instant, Erik lost himself—he lost his will to stop.
Angel pulled away with a gasp, stumbling backward. His eyes widened and it took a minute for Erik to realize the sheer horror filling Angel's dark brown stare. Erik reached out and Angel moved further away. "I'm so sorry," Angel said, shaking his head back and forth. He sank down onto the edge of his bed with his head lowered, palms covering his face. "He said he met someone. I told him I loved him, but he's already moved on. Now I'm… I'm fucked up. I did a stupid thing and I—"
"No. No, stop," Erik said, though his mind hadn't really processed what had just happened between them. Instinct told him to soothe his upset patient, though his heart and body begged for more. "Just calm down. Let's talk about this."
At first, Erik couldn't think straight, let alone give someone solid advice on how to handle a situation of such magnitude. He stayed against the wall, keeping his mouth shut and his eyes wide. He silently counted backward from ten in an effort to gain some composure, but he still didn't trust himself to make a move just yet.
"You can't do that again," he finally rasped, but the words didn't sound like an admonition from doctor to patient. They sounded more like a warning for both men. "You can't kiss me or I can't be your doctor, Angel."
Patient Privilege Page 13
