by Molly Lee
“Okay, tell me more about Blake.”
He may as well sucker punched me. “We’re just going to dive the fuck in then?”
“We only have so much time before your program is completed, and you’ve dodged the real questions since you got here.” He slipped his own gloves off and tossed them next to mine. He motioned toward the exit. “Come on,” he said stepping out of the ring. “You can tell me about her while we walk the grounds.” He chuckled. “I’m glad I don’t have to beat your ass anymore to get answers, but I still don’t think you’d do well on a couch.”
“You’re not wrong.” I laughed, following him outside, a slight breeze on the air cooling my flushed skin. The wind carried a scent I hadn’t realized I’d come to hate until recently. “Fucking perfect,” I said, sucking my teeth as I looked up at the sky.
“What?” Thomas asked.
I nodded toward the dark gray storm clouds gathered in the sky. “Storm is coming.”
He shrugged. “It’s the season. Why does that bother you so much?”
A dark chuckle ripped from my lips. “Well, you wanted to know about Blake. Here goes. First off, she’s a storm chaser. Always has been, even before she knew she was…”
And then I told him everything. From how we’d met, how we’d fallen in love, how we were each other’s firsts in every single aspect of the word, and everything in between. I told him about the dark times, times I couldn’t remember clearly, about when things got worse, when she found her calling, when I knew it was over, and finally, to the darkest night of my life…the night I woke the fuck up.
He listened, and I talked, and we’d circled the grounds three times by the time I was done. I didn’t cry this time, not like I had with Charlie, but that’s because this wasn’t baring my soul as I had to her. I didn’t yearn for Thomas’ acceptance. I merely wanted him to help me. Really help me figure out if something inside me was unfixable, so broken and damaged I would be a danger to Charlie, to anyone I ever decided to let in again. I needed him to tell me if I was worth the effort to put back together, or if I should just give up and drown myself at the bottom of a bottle.
A bright flash of lightning cracked in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder. Seemed fitting, as I turned over a list of all that was wrong within me, all that I’d done to Blake, for there to be a storm breaking the sky. I could see the look in her eyes as clear as it was yesterday, the way she lit up when she heard the storm coming—and I couldn’t understand why that memory was clear and the others weren’t.
“You called it something,” I said, looking at Thomas who had been exceptionally quiet as I spilled my story. “Gaslighting?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Still your diagnosis?”
“It’s what you did to her, yes. The reasoning behind it is much different, though. Especially with your awareness of the situation now. Part of conquering one’s faults is acknowledging that they are there. A part of you. And another part is letting go of a past you can’t change and accepting control over what you have now.”
I honestly didn’t feel like I had control over shit right now, least of all my emotions, my life, the situation I’d gotten myself into with Devlin—which I’d conveniently left out of my story.
“Am I a lost cause?” The question was barely a whisper between us. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
“Nothing is ever lost, Justin.” He clutched my shoulder. “You didn’t wake up and decide to gaslight that girl. You loved her once. You may still. What happened is a result of a combination of deep resentment and an overly active anger trigger. Does it explain away what you did? Not at all. Can you move past it? Absolutely. But it will cost you.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m guessing the price is steep?” I tried to joke.
“That depends on you. How much you’re willing to put into staying clean, staying on top of your anger.”
I nodded, thinking of the man I wanted to be, not only for Charlie but for me. I wanted to look in a mirror again some day and not hate myself.
“And you’ll have to make amends, as part of that price.”
I snapped my head to him. “What?”
“Soon, you will be given the chance to make direct amends to the one you afflicted. The one who is the source of your darkness.”
“Blake,” I whispered her name. “You want me to…speak to her?”
“Not just speak. See.”
All the blood drained from my face, and my heart raced against my chest. “And if I can’t?”
“Then you’re not ready to move forward.” He patted me on the back and moved toward the facility, leaving me standing there, frozen.
I’d thought the price of recovery would be steep. I couldn’t have been more wrong. If I had to seek Blake out and apologize to her, it wasn’t just steep…it was fucking impossible.
7
Remove shortcomings
“You have a visitor,” Conner said after opening my bedroom door, not bothering to knock. We had an open policy during the day. I trusted the guy more than any blood I’d ever known.
“Who?” I asked, closing the book I’d been reading that Charlie had left with me that morning. I’d never understood the draw to reading if you weren’t forced to but with the time I had secluded in here, I was quickly learning the pleasure in it. It was an intimate act, connecting with the characters, or not connecting but hating them. Either way, it was another legal form of escape, as Charlie would say. I sat it down on my nightstand right next to the stack of letters from my aunt I’d collected—one every week since I’d checked in. I hadn’t written her back, but I’d called her last week for a quick and painless progress report.
Conner shrugged. “You have a brother you didn’t tell me about?”
I scrunched my eyebrows together. “No, man. You’re the one with brother issues.”
“I don’t have brother---“
“Justin.” A male voice I didn’t recognize cut Conner off. “Good to see you.”
Conner arched an eyebrow, a silent question of it if was cool to leave or not. I nodded, and he shut the door behind him, leaving me and the stranger in my small and suddenly crowded room. He was as big as a wrestler and kind of reminded me of…
“Shit.”
“Devlin says hello,” he said, sitting in the metal folding chair on the opposite side of my bed.
“We’re not due for a supply boost for another two weeks. And you’re new.” I always had the same, much smaller and less imposing delivery guy since I’d been here.
“I’m not here for that. More like an employee review.”
“Okay.” I kept my face even. Something was off. I could feel it in my over firing nerve endings that had me cracking my knuckles.
“Devlin says it’s been two weeks since you checked in. You’re supposed to make weekly calls. This worries him.” Damn the dude sounded like a robot.
“Are you two related? Because you look so much alike.”
“He’s my brother.”
I nodded, no wonder he was acting as one to pass judgment while his brother was locked up.
“The calls?” He asked.
Every muscle in my body tensed. I hadn’t pushed one pill—despite begging and pleading on my customer’s end—since I’d flushed that stash in the art room toilet with Charlie. The same day I’d realized I wanted to be better, and only one week before actually asking for help to get there. And I’d known then, just like I did now, that this portion of the process would be harder than any other to get over.
“I’ve rethought our arrangement.”
“And?”
“I don’t like it. I’m taking all the risk.”
He crossed his massive arms over his chest. “You want a higher cut?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I just want out. It was easier in prison to move this shit. If you can believe that.”
He glared at me before laughing as he stood up. He shoved the chair back as he moved slowly toward
the door. “I’ll tell Devlin to expect your call tomorrow regarding stock.”
“What?” I asked, bolting off the bed. “Didn’t you hear me, man? I’m done. You can send your errand boy to collect what I have left, or you can take it right now, either way, I’m not moving one more pill.”
He moved away from the door, stopping an inch away from me. I stilled my body, focusing on every movement, preparing for a fight. He’d end me easily, but I would go down swinging.
“I heard you. Trust me. You don’t want to do that.”
“You going to force me to change my mind?” I raised my chin, daring him.
“I don’t have to. Devlin already has.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“He always has a contingency plan in case one of his employees gets cold feet.” He shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That pretty little brunette of yours? The one you had pictures of in half the boxes in that shit storage locker where all your stuff is currently being held?”
The floor dropped out from under me.
“Yeah, we know all about her. Know she’s some hot shot chaser, currently tracking on the alley.”
My blood sizzled.
“So you want me to go ahead and tell Devlin you’re out? Cool. Just be sure you know which hospital to send your girl flowers.”
I slammed into him with the force of a Mack truck, shoving his ass against the opposite wall so hard his head smacked against it. A few blinks and he hurtled a meaty fist into the side of my head, and stars burst behind my eyes, my ears ringing with nothing but static for a few moments as I tumbled to the floor.
“Fuck,” I managed to say as he stood over me.
“That one is free, Justin. Act out like that again and I’ll end you. Then your little chaser too.”
I started laughing hysterically as I gripped the side of my head, my fingers coming back sticky with my own blood. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Come again?” He snapped, grabbing the collar of my shirt and hoisting me to my feet.
The truth of him getting the wrong girl was on the tip of my tongue before I realized the fact would only make him dig deeper into who would be the right girl. Charlie’s face filled my vision and the idea of her being at risk over something I’d done on my own hurt worse than the hit the Hulk had just delivered. And despite everything that had happened between us, I still didn’t want Blake to get hurt either. I hoped her chasing on the alley would be enough to distance her from this danger, and give me enough time to figure a way out of it.
“I said tell Devlin we need more valium.”
He released my shirt, and I took a step back, swiping at the blood still trickling down the side of my face. “Good. Smart. Didn’t peg you for that.”
“I’m nothing if not surprising.”
“You may want to put some ice on that,” he said before walking out my door.
I flipped him off before sinking back on the bed.
Fuck. My. Life.
The shit storm just turned into a shit tornado, and I was in the fucking middle of it. How the hell could I protect a girl I hadn’t spoken to in over a year? One I’d hurt so badly she’d put so much distance between us I’d been sure I’d never hear her voice again? And how could I get out of Devlin’s drug business without hurting her, myself, or someone else I cared about?
The notion that I had more than one person on my care list would’ve been a victorious moment for me after the lonely year I’d had, but the situation didn’t really allow for celebration.
I was so fucked.
“Did Thomas do that?” Charlie asked, sinking onto the same metal chair the Hulk had set in hours ago.
I dropped the ice pack on the stand next to my bed. “He wishes he was that strong.”
“Justin,” she chided.
“Charlie,” I mimicked her, glancing down at the legs she had crossed over one another. “Are those moons or circles of cheese?” I asked, trying to focus on the pattern on the tight fabric rather than her appraising eyes.
“Obviously, it’s cheese. Now, what happened?” She stood up, retrieving the pack and gently placed it against the knot that had formed near my left temple after the blood had dried.
“I ran into a doorknob?”
She pinched the skin of my neck so hard I flinched. “Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in defense, taking the pack from her as she sat down next to me on my bed. “I had a disagreement with someone.”
She reached out to pinch me again, and I blocked her, intertwining our fingers and lowering my voice. “My employer wasn’t too thrilled at my request to be let go.”
Realization clicked in her eyes before they widened. “Oh my God.” She covered a gasp with her fingers. “I’m so proud of you.”
I tilted my head, cold water dripping down my arm from the pack. “Seriously? I got my ass handed to me, and you’re proud of me?”
“You’re out! That’s huge.” She squeezed my hand. “I hate that you’re hurt but, Justin, this is amazing.”
My stomach rolled for the hundredth time since the douche had left, the happiness and pride in her eyes crushing me. I opened my mouth to tell her the truth—tell her that I hadn’t gotten out yet and that there was a very large ax hovering over not only my head, but Blake’s as well—but I choked on the words. No one had ever looked at me the way she was looking at me now. She was honest to God proud of me, and I selfishly chose to live in that world where I was a man to beam at.
Charlie shifted next to me, releasing my hand. “What’s wrong?” She asked, noticing my lack of enthusiasm.
I retook her hand. “Nothing, just…beat.” Damn I hated lying to her. Wow, I actually hated it…like it left a shitty taste in my mouth. The more I thought about it, though, the more I was happy about my impromptu plan not to tell her about the threat. She didn’t need to get any closer to this mess than she already was. And I would get out. I would figure a way out of this where no one would get hurt.
“Don’t lie to me, Justin. You know how much I despise people who lie.” She glared at me, reading me as well as she had since day one.
My chest wrenched as I worked up another lie. “I know. I’m just…worried. I don’t want them to retaliate on someone I care about.” I pressed my lips together knowing she knew it was her I spoke of.
She sighed. “What are we going to do?”
Her use of the word we both warmed my insides and frosted over my heart—fear over what would happen if anyone caught wind about how much I cared for her. I reached up, tracing the soft curves of her face with my thumb.
“Maybe they won’t.”
“What can I do?” She leaned into my palm like it wasn’t even a thought.
“I need you to leave.”
“What?” She jerked out of my touch. “Why?”
“I can’t have anyone realize what you are to me.”
Her shoulders dropped. “I’m just your sponsor.”
“You know you’re so much more than that.”
Her lips parted, unspoken words caught in her mouth.
I wanted to kiss them out of her. Wanted to feel her body against mine even for just a moment. I leaned closer, moving slowly to give myself time to come to my senses.
She closed the distance between us, her lips touching mine with the lightest of pressures. The tip of her tongue barely grazed the corner of my mouth before she stood up and walked to the door. The absence of her heat left me cold.
“I’m your sponsor,” she repeated. “You know we can’t keep doing this.”
“I know,” I said. And now, with the mess I’d gotten myself into, there was more at stake than just a professional line.
I crossed the room, stopping an arms length away from her just to be safe. “I’ll still see you, Charlie…right?”
“Of course. We’ll keep it public. Nothing intimate.” A piece of her hair fell in front of her face. I reached out to her but quickly je
rked my hand back.
“Right.”
She turned to leave, but I stopped her. “Charlie?”
“Yeah?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“That part of my life is over now. For good.” Just keep driving it home, asshole. God, why did I have to open my mouth? Why did I have to crave her approval, her pride in me?
She pursed her lips. “I know. Like I said, I’m proud of you.”
I shut the door behind her and leaned my forehead against the cold wood, my heart racing at the glowing look in her eyes, at the sensation of something so good and pure on the horizon. My stomach twisted, reminding me of all the ways I was good at fucking things up when they turned great.
8
Amends
“I might puke,” I said and rubbed my slick palms against the top of my jeans. Did Charlie’s car have to be so fucking tiny? I couldn’t get a decent breath in the small bug, and my chest was aching for release.
“Then open the door and do it,” Charlie said, patting my shoulder lightly.
I tried not to glare at her. This wasn’t her fault. I mean—yes, she was the one who had gotten me the twenty-four-hour pass from the clinic so I could properly carry out step eight in the program—but she wasn’t the source of my problem. Sucking in a sharp breath, I forced myself to look up from where I’d had my head tucked down, and acid crept up my throat.
“Fuck, there she is.” Everything inside me went still and shook all at the same time, my body a battleground of confliction. My heart soared at the sight of her long brown hair, those dark brown eyes I’d sought comfort in since I was a kid. Then, it quickly iced over as a barrage of images beat upon my memory like a flock of crows swooping to pick my eyes out. All the fights, the tears, the hurt. And it was all my fault.
Funny, I could see that clearly now, when two years ago I would’ve denied I was anything short of a real boyfriend to my grave. The night of my awakening—that awful night—had stripped me of every sense of denial I had about my identity, exposing my darkness like a raw nerve, and I’d done nothing but sear it off with liquor until my aunt had found me. And here, now, with Charlie next to me, and over eight weeks sober, I felt nothing shy of terrified.
