Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

by Jade C. Jamison

  “That’s what you said—but then you said you don’t stay quit. Why is that?”

  He ran his entire hand down his face before looking at her. “Because I don’t want to talk to them. I leave before we’re done. They want to talk about my childhood and other shit—and I don’t feel like it. I can’t handle it. It makes me feel worse.”

  “But maybe you’d feel better if you stuck it out.”

  “You saying you want me to try rehab again?”

  “Zane, I don’t know what you need. I only know that you are a broken record. You keep repeating your mistakes over and over again…and I’m just helping you do it. I can’t help you anymore. I won’t help you anymore. It’s not just me I’m living for nowadays, Zane. I have to think of my daughter too.”

  He blinked and, in that moment, seemed more sincere than she’d ever seen him. “One more chance, Jen. That’s all I ask.”

  And she didn’t know if it was stupidity or compassion…but she agreed to give him one more time.

  * * *

  What the hell had he just agreed to? The victim mentality he wanted to give into kept telling him Jen had extorted him—forced him into getting some kind of help in exchange for seeing her. He knew it wasn’t true, though. Deep down, he knew he needed help. The kind of compulsions he gave into on a continual basis were neither healthy nor beneficial. He really needed help and he’d merely been avoiding it all these years. The biggest proof? He was still feeling a residual high and he’d indulged in foreign pussy less than twelve hours earlier. Like a typical addict, he’d pretended that just one drink or just one hit or just one dalliance here and there didn’t count. Deep down, though, in the murky abyss where he hated himself, he knew the truth.

  So, much as he wanted to whine and complain, he instead decided to fucking man up and just do it. His prize for completing the task? Jennifer Manders. He was going to have to get used to her being a mom, though. That was weird. Not bad…just strange and unexpected. He didn’t know why he was so shocked, though. She’d made the decision to move on with her life.

  Without him.

  That was why it had hurt so badly, though. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to move on without hurt. It would have been like cutting off an arm.

  As he drove home that night, he started thinking of the least painful way to do it. Maybe Jenna, Ethan’s significant other, would be willing to take him on as a patient. If nothing else, she already knew him and so she wouldn’t judge him…right?

  He was going to sleep on it…and, for the first time in a long time, he was going to do it completely and utterly sober.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE NEXT MORNING, Zane was gritting his teeth, standing in his kitchen and trying to decide if he wanted to make coffee or go out for it. The clock on the wall said ten-thirty, so he chose not to wait and picked up his phone, dialing his good friend’s number.

  When Ethan picked up, Zane said, “Hey, Ethan. Can I come over and talk with you and Jenna?”

  “About what, man? Everything okay?”

  He remembered the annoying therapist in his last rehab stint, the one that made Zane decide that just getting off all the shit, even if just for a few weeks, was good enough. In spite of the woman’s irritating qualities, one thing she’d said that made sense—whether he liked it or not—was about honesty. Lying and not talking about things or, as she called it, hiding in the weeds only harmed him. It made it harder for him to get what he needed out of life.

  So…full-blown honesty it was, even if it hurt. “No. That’s why I wanted to come talk with you guys.” He forced a smile, even though Ethan wouldn’t see it, probably wouldn’t even hear it in his voice. “I’ll bring coffee.”

  “You comin’ now?”

  “Yeah. If that’s all right.”

  “Yep. Come on over.”

  Ethan didn’t live that far away from Zane, but driving half an hour with teeth clenched while white-knuckling the steering wheel made it seem like eons. Stopping for coffee and breaking up the ride didn’t help much either. It just made it seem longer. And he’d made up his mind, so he wanted to get started already.

  Unlike the rest of his band buddies, Ethan lived in a gated community, and Zane had to pass inspection to get in. He was on the list, of course, but he had to stop just the same. Ethan had explained it to Zane when he first did it. For some reason—probably because of his notorious history—Ethan managed to attract a lot of strange people, stalker types, and the guy wanted to keep his family safe. If it had been him on his own, he said he wouldn’t have cared, but with a girlfriend and children, it was a necessity. He insisted it was worth every penny.

  So after miles and traffic and coffee and the gate, by the time Zane got to their front door, he was a nervous wreck.

  Yeah…he knew it wasn’t just the time it took to get there making him a bundle of nerves. He was also already experiencing the early stages of withdrawal. It was partly stupid, trying to be coherent and talk about his problems calmly and rationally without the aid of chemical support, but it would also underscore how badly he really needed it if he’d pounded some pills before coming over.

  But, of all people, Ethan and Jenna would understand.

  It didn’t matter. If Zane had caved—especially this early on, when the symptoms of detox were mildly irritating as opposed to how bad they would get (and this he knew from past experience)—it would have been like he didn’t care about Jennifer. He needed to prove to himself that he could do it.

  After their cursory greetings, Ethan slapped Zane on the back and closed the front door behind him. Zane was holding a drink carrier with three big paper cups of coffee, and the scent was teasing his nostrils. For the first time in ages, Zane wanted a cigarette to go with.

  God…this was gonna be bad.

  “You look like hell, man. What’s goin’ on?”

  “I need to talk to you and Jenna.”

  Zane could see the worried look in his friend’s pale green eyes. “Yeah, sure. She’s in the dining room with Scarlet.”

  They walked in the large room anchored by a long shiny mahogany table. The long royal purple drapes were pulled to the side, letting sunlight stream in through the large, long windows. The coolness inside the room belied how warm it was growing outside, but Zane preferred drinking coffee when he was cool. He remembered how his dad had always talked about how coffee cooled him off on a hot day.

  Why the fuck did thoughts of his dad pop into his head now? Now? When he desperately needed something positive to hold onto, memories of his father were the last thing he needed. Jenna had been on the floor with the baby. Well…Scarlet wasn’t much of a baby anymore. She was upright and walking on her own. When exactly had that happened? Had that much time passed?

  Jesus fuck. Yeah…Zane really needed to dry out. He couldn’t keep track of shit anymore. Time seemed meaningless, especially when he could only remember events when juxtaposed with album releases and tours. He set the tray of coffee on the table and tried to have a positive—or at least neutral—expression on his face before Jenna looked at him.

  “Zane,” Jenna said, walking over to him and pulling him into a warm embrace. “How are you doing?”

  “Not good.” And it didn’t help that little Scarlet was acting scared of him, hiding behind Ethan’s leg, holding onto it like a tree trunk that was going to save her from the big bad wolf.

  “Thanks for the coffee. Do you need any cream or sugar?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Jenna looked at Ethan. He picked up their child and kissed her on the cheek. “Want me to go get it?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  “Nope.” He handed Scarlet to her mom (damn, there was no mistaking that they were mother and daughter) and started walking through the other doorway. “Be right back.” Zane felt a rush of gratitude. Their acceptance and love were strong and palpable, exactly what he needed right now.

  “Go ahead and sit down, Zane.” Jenna pu
lled out a chair for herself and sat, holding Scarlet on her lap, but the child would have none of it. She turned and wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. “Honey, this is daddy’s friend Zane. You remember him, don’t you?” Zane couldn’t see the expression on the child’s face as her head was turned away from him. He knew he had to look like shit warmed over, and that would likely scare the hardiest of children. “He’s in daddy’s band.” Jenna smiled, looking at Zane. “Er, bands.”

  Zane forced a smile back and he heard Scarlet say, “Daddy’s bands.”

  “Yes.”

  Ethan came back in, holding a pint of half-and-half and bowl of sugar and set them on the table before sitting on the other side of Zane. “So what’s up, man?”

  Zane hadn’t expected to be thrown immediately into the thick of things, but he didn’t mind. He’d barely slept the night before and it was all his mind had been on. It was time to move forward. He let out a breath and started talking, while Scarlet slid off Jenna’s lap, walked the other way around the table so she could avoid him, and climbed up on her daddy’s lap, while Jenna took the coffees out of the carrier and placed one in front of each adult at the table. “You guys know I’ve been in and out of rehab for the last few years.”

  Ethan nodded, clenching his jaw. If anyone understood the struggle, it was this man. “Yeah.” He furrowed his brow. “Not taking?”

  Zane shook his head. “Not sticking anyway. I don’t know what to do, but I’ve got to. I can’t keep doing this.” He wanted to add, I’m going to lose the only woman I’ve ever loved, but the words echoed in his head, sounding melodramatic. There was no need to be a pussy about it.

  Jenna grabbed the sugar. “Did you bring spoons, honey?”

  “Damn.” Ethan scrunched his nose. “Hang on.” He stood, Scarlet in tow, and walked to the kitchen quickly. Zane knew his friend would be able to hear him in there, but he waited until Ethan came back and handed Jenna a spoon while placing one in front of Zane. Jenna scooped a couple of spoonfuls in her coffee, but Ethan pulled the lid off his coffee and drank it straight.

  Zane would take some sugar. He needed it and the caffeine to stave off the headache he knew was coming, just one of the lovely cluster of withdrawal symptoms he was likely to start experiencing. He was already overwhelmed with fatigue and tension. Those were the symptoms most health experts and addiction counselors called mild.

  Mild, his fucking ass. They were just the beginning of an onslaught, and when they piled on, they were impossible to deal with. Bad enough he had emotional and psychological dependencies to boot. “So…what do you need from us, Zane?” Jenna asked. In her voice, there was no judgment, no accusations nor expectations—just a sincere question begging for an honest answer.

  Damn, she was good. When he first met Jenna, Zane hadn’t taken long to understand why Ethan had fallen for her. First of all, her no-nonsense attitude and street-smart feel made her a force to contend with. Val was a strong woman but she was different and not for Ethan. The difference between the two women was like the difference between digital and analog. Both could do the job—the same damn job—but they would take different paths. Their circuitry was not the same. Jenna and Ethan were, as the old saying went, cut from the same cloth, just as Val and Brad were. It was so obvious now, in retrospect, how Val and Ethan were just not meant for each other, in spite of the fact that the two of them had loved each other desperately. But Val had had to grow into her worldliness, whereas Jenna had seemed to have been weaned on the shitty ways of the world. Nothing fazed her.

  She was an amazing counselor.

  And that was why Zane needed her so desperately. “Guys…the last stint I had in rehab. I dried out, right? Yeah, no problem. After three days, it’s like a piece of cake, you know?” He grabbed the coffee and brought it up to his mouth to take a sip, trying to ignore the shaking in his hand.

  Jenna offered, “Staying quit, though…”

  “Yeah. That’s a bitch.” He sighed, placing the paper cup back down on the table. Scarlet slid off Ethan’s lap again and toddled over to her mommy. Zane noticed that this time, though, the child walked behind his chair. She was starting to thaw a little to his presence. Maybe the coffee running through his veins helped him look a little less scary. “I know it’s ‘cause I’ve been avoiding the talking part.”

  “Counseling?”

  “Yeah. Is that why?”

  “Well,” Jenna started, helping Scarlet up on her lap, “it could be. Talking about your triggers and what brought you here in the first place is often a good way to figure yourself out, to help arm yourself against the onslaught of temptations that will come to you in the future. They will come—you have to know that. But you can overcome them if you’re prepared. And that’s really where the strength in counseling lies.” She kissed her child on top of her head. “It also sometimes helps just to have someone who’ll listen to you.”

  Zane resisted rolling his eyes. “Eh…I’m not really big on that.”

  Jenna smiled, her green eyes twinkling. “A lot of folks aren’t. But trust me. It helps.”

  He felt his leg bouncing under the table and he willed himself to relax as much as possible, but even the idea caused him to tense up. “You still on hiatus?”

  Jenna laughed. “You band guys and your lingo. I still do the weekly group, Soaring Free, but yeah. I’m not counseling full time anymore. I’m enjoying staying home being a mom.”

  “I know it’s weird, but would you consider counseling an old friend?”

  Jenna reached out and touched Zane’s hand, something he hadn’t expected. His first reaction had been to pull away, but he instead let her do it. He could see Ethan out of the corner of his eye but he couldn’t read the man’s expression. “Zane, I really don’t think I’d be the best therapist for you. I know you…and that would stop me from being neutral. I learned a lot from working with Ethan. I know it seems cold, but it’s really a lot better if you start with someone who doesn’t know you.”

  “But…I don’t even want to do this shit in the first place. I think the only way I can even start is with someone I know.”

  He heard Ethan clear his throat. “Would it help if you had a friend with you?”

  Zane was ready to start laughing—and he might have if he wasn’t so near to emotional collapse. That was a riot, though. He remembered getting some kind of booster shots as a kid, and his mom practically shoving him at the nurse, telling him he had to be brave and that she’d be in the lobby waiting. The fucking lobby…when he needed her. But she’d been busy flirting with the window washer guy. Seriously sick. And now, as an adult, he had his friend offering to hold his hand so he could go talk to someone about his problems?

  It was actually fucking tempting.

  “If you don’t mind a little advice, Zane, I think you might consider inpatient again. I know it’s tough being away from home and the friends you love, but it really does remove you from all the temptations and triggers—”

  “—that I need to learn to deal with on a daily basis, right?” Jenna blinked and nodded. “Inpatient’s not all it’s cracked up to be. No offense, Jenna. I know it’s not bad…but the physical shit’s not the issue. I can fucking lick that, no problem. I have hundreds of times before. It sucks, but I know what to expect and I know how to take it. It’s the…it’s the shit after that kills me. It’s the day-to-day living. That’s what I need to deal with.”

  “I’m always here to talk, man. I got your back. And I get where you’re coming from.”

  Zane looked over at his friend. “I know you do.”

  He turned again when he heard Jenna’s voice. “Then maybe I need to refer you to someone, right? Would you be more comfortable with a male or female counselor, or does that matter?”

  Zane didn’t care…he just wanted her to point him in the direction of a fucking miracle worker—because that was what he needed. Desperately.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “HOLY CRAP, ZANE. There are big families w
ho don’t live in places half this nice.”

  “I know. I knew you’d appreciate it. This is luxury on wheels, babe. This is how I know we’re in the big leagues.”

  “Geez…I can’t believe these bunks…and the bathroom.”

  “Mmm…I need to break my bed in before we go on tour. Can you help me out there?”

  “Zane! No way. Val and Ethan could walk in any minute!”

  “Nah. She’s already been in here. They’re just on the bus humoring us.”

  “You, you mean.”

  “No, us. You’re impressed, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah…but it’s just a bus.”

  “Oh…what do I have to do to impress my girlfriend? If this big bus doesn’t impress her…”

  “I—we’re boyfriend and girlfriend again?”

  “Don’t you want to be?”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought about it, but…yeah.”

  It had been almost a week, but Jennifer remembered the last words Zane had said to her on the phone. “Don’t call, okay? I’m, uh…going to be going through withdrawal. Again. And, um…it’s not pretty. I don’t want you to hear me like that. But I love you, Jen—and anything for you.”

  God, she wanted to believe that, but how many times did she have to be humiliated, betrayed, and hurt before she refused to come back for more?

  She’d told him one more time. She’d give him one last chance…and that was it. She steeled herself for the very real possibility that Zane would still have his leopard’s spots when he emerged from the other side of whatever treatment he was getting. She knew he’d been through rehab a ridiculous amount of times. How good could the process be if it didn’t work?

  She had to admit to herself that she didn’t know much about it. Jennifer had never been addicted to anything and prayed she never would, so the concept was foreign to her.