Lone Star Burn_Lost Soul

by Sandy Sullivan

  “Nothing else?”

  “No, but God, Libby, she looked so sad like she didn’t want to know me or like she wished she’d never met me. I loved her. She was my everything.”

  “I know.”

  “I was going to marry her,” he whispered. “We were supposed to be happy.”

  “Why did you go out and shoot up? Why didn’t you come find me? I could have helped you.”

  “Because you always turn me away.”

  “I don’t, Lee, but I won’t give you money to go buy more heroin. I won’t enable your addiction.”

  Holy shit! Lee is an addict?

  “If you need to go back into the rehab program to get clean again, I will help you. I can see you’ve been using over the last twenty-four hours by the way you look right now.”

  Tremors wracked his body.

  “When did you use last?”

  “Yesterday.” Sweat poured down his temples, wetting his dirty t-shirt. He climbed to his feet and began to pace from the door and back to where Libby stood. “I need a fix, Lib.”

  “No you don’t. You need to fight this. You know how this works, Lee. These symptoms will persist for a few days and then you’ll feel better. You just have to get through this rough part.”

  “It would be so much easier for me to disappear.”

  “You can’t do that. You’ve got me. You’ve got Mom and Dad, and you even have Brock again. He’s here. I’m sure he’ll help you too. He was your best friend way back when.” She looked at him with hopeful eyes. “Right, Brock?”

  Brock shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do or say at this point. Lee had been his friend when they were in high school and afterwards, but when the chips came down with the verdict of murder, he’d disappeared. Brock never heard from him the whole time he’d been in prison and at this point, he didn’t feel very charitable toward his former best friend. What to do though? He wasn’t sure. Libby had written a few times, but he’d never read any of them. His choice was to avoid reminders of home at the time. Being with Libby now made things difficult. If he turned his back on Lee, he’d be turning his back on Libby. He couldn’t do that. She meant too much to him. She’d been his rock and his savior during his time in the slammer, even if she never knew and now she was doing so much to help him, he couldn’t walk away from her. Not that he thought there was any kind of future for them together, but he’d take what he could get and being in her arms made him whole, at least for now. “Uh, yeah sure.”

  Lee stopped his pacing and faced him. “I’m sorry, Brock. Things got real rough when you left. I was kind of lost without you here to be my backup.” He shoved his hands through his sweaty hair. “I had a girl though. A nice girl. We were good together, but I fucked it up. I started getting high, and she left. She couldn’t handle me that way.” He sat down on the couch, his hands dangling between his spread knees. “I loved her. Heroin loved me more. I liked the way it makes me feel. You know, when you start out it’s all mellow and stuff. Life is beautiful. People are awesome. It even makes me a better person.”

  He glanced up and Brock saw a guy who hurt, a guy who didn’t want to let this thing beat him, but so far he was losing the battle.

  “Then you need more and more. It goes from costing you ten bucks to get high to costing a hundred or more. You find a dealer. He gives you what you need, for a price. The great feelings aren’t there anymore. Those people who were awesome are now keeping you from the drugs you need. You lose the people you love, those who used to love you.” He wiped his face with his arm. “I thought I had it beat. I was doing so much better. If I hadn’t run into her and seen how she’d moved on with her life without me, I think I would have been okay.” A tear rolled down his face, dropping onto his hand. “I love her so much.”

  Libby sat next to him on the couch and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her. “I know.”

  Brock wasn’t sure what to do. He felt like the outsider, and he guessed he was. This wasn’t something he was prepared for when he came back to Bard. He’d figured Lee had gone to college, got a good job, married someone nice, and lived somewhere cool, not this broken shell of a man. The person sitting on the couch crying like a tattered soul, like a lost soul, hit something deep inside him. He knew what it felt to be that lost soul with nowhere to go and nobody to turn to as revenge and truth burned in your gut. Even though he didn’t understand what Lee was going through, he would do what he could to help him.

  Taking his other side, Brock sat down on the couch by Lee and grasped his shaking hand. “I’m here for you, buddy. Tell me what I need to do.” He glanced up at Libby, meeting her eyes over Lee’s head. The sparkle of tears on her lashes told him everything he needed to know.

  This would be a long night.

  Chapter Five

  Libby sat at the dining room table staring down into a cup of coffee between her hands. She’d called the clinic and had them reschedule all her appointments today for everything routine, but she would have to go in this afternoon to see about Cole’s border collie. Hopefully there would be nothing major that she needed to handle.

  She glanced at her couch. Lee lay sprawled out with his head at one end and his feet hanging over the armrest on the other end, softly snoring. They’d made it through the night.

  Water ran in the bathroom. Brock. He’d been her knight in shining armor, her godsend. He’d sat up with her all night, helping Lee battle his demons through the withdrawals, and all the symptoms that came with it. Coming home with her the night before, he’d been such a help. The whole incident with the break in of her house and then Lee showing up on her doorstep, she couldn’t have asked for a better guy. He’d even took a cab to the clinic and picked up her truck during the night while they’d waited.

  The water turned off, leaving her to her imagination of a naked Brock climbing out of her shower. Her mouth watered at the picture she created in her mind. His skin would be glistening with water droplets sliding down his chest. The dark hair on his pecs would be curled slightly with dampness. She wanted to taste that on his flesh. He would have a towel in his hands, slowly sliding it down his chest, arms, and rock hard abdomen until he reached the nest of curls at his cock. Impressive even flaccid, she could almost taste the salty pre-cum when he was aroused.

  Good grief, she was horny.

  “Lib?”

  She cleared her throat and glanced up at him standing in the doorway, a white towel riding low on his hips. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Do you know where my jeans and spare shirt are?”

  “In my room, I think. I threw your sweat pants in the washer when you got into the shower. I figured they probably needed to be washed along with your t-shirt.”

  “Yeah. It’s been a few days. Without anywhere really to call home at the moment, washing my clothing isn’t high on my list.”

  “No problem.” She climbed to her feet, intending to refill her cup. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She moved into the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and began to fill it as she heard him shuffle back down the hall to her room. Her stomach returned to normal not having his sexy ass right there in front of her where she wanted to do nothing but jump him, have him throw her over the arm of the chair, and fuck her into next week. Not a good idea with her brother sleeping on the couch nearby.

  When he returned a few minutes later, she’d already sat back down at the table and placed his cup across from hers.

  The chair scraped the floor as he pulled it out to sit down. He sighed when he brought the cup to his lips to take a sip of the fortifying liquid. “Nectar of the Gods.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  He looked to his left at her brother still snored on the couch. “I’m glad one of us got some sleep.”

  “Yeah. He’ll be strung tight as a bow string later though. The withdrawals from heroin are not fun.”

  “I got that impression from last night’s round.”

  “That was mild in co
mparison to some I’ve seen him go through.”

  “How long has he been using?”

  “Several years.” She looked down at the swirling brown liquid in her cup, trying to formulate an answer that would sound plausible, but not too disturbing. Even though she still blamed her brother’s downfall on his relationship with Melissa, she knew Brock’s leaving had something to do with it too. “He started using heroin right after you went away. It was mild at first. He thought he could control it. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It kept him mellowed out and not stressing, but then it got to be too much.”

  “What happened with his girl?”

  “He’d been using for a little while when he met her. They got along great. I thought for sure he would quit and make a life for the two of them. It didn’t happen that way. His use got heavier and heavier until she finally said she couldn’t handle it anymore and walked away. That’s when things got really bad. He lost a good job at the factory in Fort Mavis. He had a nice apartment that went to shit. He ended up homeless and stealing to get the money for his heroin.”

  “Is that why he said you always turned your back on him?”

  “Yeah.” She took another sip of her coffee, grimacing when she realized it had gone cold. “I gave him some money at first, even helped him find a new place to live and a new job at one of the local ranches. It wasn’t much. He was cleaning horse stalls.” She pushed the cup away. “When he got caught stealing from the ranch owner, they kicked him off the place, and even filed charges. He spent a few months in jail. He’s tried getting off of it before, several times in fact, but he’s never been clean for very long. This last time he made it for a month.”

  “You said something about rehab?”

  She nodded. “He’s been to an inpatient rehab. I even paid for it. It worked for a few weeks after he got out.” She shook her head as she folded her hands in front of her on the table. “I’m not sure what to do to help him, Brock.”

  “Maybe you can’t. He has to want to help himself, Lib. If he doesn’t, then nothing you can do will make this right.”

  “I guess I’m not strong enough to be the support person he needs.”

  Brock reached across the table and grabbed her hands in his big, strong ones. His palms were so warm, the heat crawled up her arms to break the coldness in her chest. “You are the strongest person I know. You have always been a tough woman, always giving way more than anyone else. You can be everything he needs, but you shouldn’t have to.”

  “But he’s my brother.”

  “I know, Lib. He knows too. He needs professional help to kick this. I saw guys going through withdrawals all the time in the pen.”

  “How did they get drugs in there?”

  “Believe me, it’s easy. They pay off guards to bring it in or families help supply it. Some don’t get it regularly enough and go through this kind of thing with the sweats, shakiness, and confusion. In there, they don’t have the ability to get the kind of treatment Lee can get here.”

  “He doesn’t have money to pay for it though.”

  “No, but I’m sure he can find some way to get it without stealing. What about state assistance?”

  “He’s single, no children, so he doesn’t qualify for much if anything.”

  “I don’t know then. I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

  “I have the money in savings. I can pay for it. I’m afraid he won’t be able to make it through.”

  “The big thing is he needs a diversion for afterwards. It sounds like he loses focus when he’s met with something he can’t handle. The stress of life is dragging him back into using. What about a vocational program or something, which would give him a career afterwards?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about the military? Nothing would straighten him out quicker than to be in a situation where he couldn’t get it as easily.”

  She blew out a breath and glanced at Lee. “I don’t think he would go for that. I can suggest it though. I’m sure they wouldn’t let him in until he tested negative for drugs.”

  “True. He’d have to be clean and stay clean.”

  “I want help, Lib, however that comes. I’m done with it, done with heroin. I need to get my life together and quite relying on you to fix things for me.” Lee moved closer.

  She wasn’t sure how long he’d been awake and listening to her and Brock discuss his situation. “I’m sorry, Lee. We shouldn’t have been talking about you like you don’t have a brain and can’t make decisions for yourself.” Lee bent down and hugged her around the neck before standing upright again.

  “I heard a lot of what you said, you and Brock. I know you have my best interests at heart. You’ve done everything you can for me, and now it’s time I stand on my own two feet. I have to move past not having Melissa. I need to come to grips with my addiction and my future.”

  Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Her throat closed as she realized her brother had finally grown up. “I love you, Lee. I will do whatever I need to so you can get the help you need.”

  “I love you too, Lib, and all I need is your love, sis. As long as you still love me, I can do this.” He pulled back his shoulders, pushed his hands through his hair, and sighed heavily. “Can I borrow your shower? I don’t have anything clean to put on, but—”

  She quickly got to her feet. “You shower. I’ll go buy you some clean clothes to put on, some razors to shave with, and a few other personal items.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I can manage.”

  “No, you need a new start. I’ll get your things and then we’ll call the rehab center to get you signed up.”

  Brock stood up and grabbed his boots and socks from the floor. “Give me his sizes and I’ll go buy what he needs, if you’ll give me some money. You two can work out the details of the rehab while I’m gone.”

  When she turned toward Brock, she was impressed by the man who was willing to help others even after his life had been torn up. He wanted to help Lee and that meant the world to her. She nodded as she moved toward the bedroom to find her emergency cash she always kept in the small safe in her closet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Taking out two hundred dollars, she closed the safe and spun the dial. She had more, that wasn’t the issue. Over time, she’d managed to save a few thousand dollars in the safe, but this meant something. It meant that she trusted Brock to do what was right. He could take the money and disappear if he wanted to. She knew he wouldn’t, just like she knew she could trust him with her body and soul.

  That was a sobering thought.

  After she returned to the living room and handed him the money, she wrapped her arms around herself as if she needed to hold onto something. He reached out and touched her cheek, running his finger down the surface as if to memorize every line. Their gazes locked, and she could see right into his soul. It wasn’t near as dark as he tried to make it sound when he’d come back. There was a light that showed her the future of the man and it was as bright as the North Star shining in the heavens.

  He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll be back in a little while. I might have to go into Fort Mavis to get some of the clothes. They don’t have a huge selection here in Bard.”

  “I know.” She grabbed the spare keys to her truck and handed them to Brock. “The truck should be full of gas.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “I know you will,” she whispered as she touched his mouth with her fingertips. His lips were so soft, she couldn’t quite get used to it. “See you in a bit.”

  He smiled before walking out and closing the front door behind him.

  She inhaled and turned toward the noise Lee made coming back down the hall after his shower. He wore his dirty pants and shirt, wiping at the dirt with his fingers as he walked.

  “Sorry. They are all I have to put on.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what vacuum’s are for.” She took a seat at the table. “Do you want to find out if you can go ba
ck to the rehab you were at before?”

  “I suppose. It doesn’t really matter, I don’t think.”

  “It worked the last time. I think it’s probably the best place since they know your history.” She reached across the expanse and took his hand in hers. “We’ll get through this, Lee. You’re a strong person, I know you are, you’ve just had a bit of a setback.”

  His gaze took on a distant unsure look, clouding his eyes with uncertainty. When he brought his attention back to her, a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Being here for me. I wasn’t sure coming here was the right thing to do. I’m glad I did.”

  “Me too.” She patted his hand before climbing to her feet. “No time like the present,” she said as she moved toward the desk in the corner. I know the phone number for the clinic is here somewhere. Not that I thought I would need it again. Her heart squeezed. Being there for her brother needed to be her priority. He was everything to her even if she had to slap him with tough love occasionally, hopefully this would be the last time he had to do this.

  The middle drawer slid open when she pulled on the round knob. A brochure for the clinic lay on top of some old pictures, distant memories. She took out one of them, glancing down at the smiling faces. It was a picture of her thirteenth birthday. Lee had brought Brock to their house.

  The party had been a bust. She’d invited several of her classmates from school to a big bash with barbeque, a huge cake, and lots of balloons everywhere. There had even been a big arch of them out in their garden surrounded by the beautiful blooms her mother loved to have.

  Twenty invites went out.

  Only two had shown up for the party. Her brother and Brock.

  After she’d realized no one was coming, she’d slid down on her butt on the top porch step of her parents’ house and cried. Her makeup made black streaks down her cheeks. She’d been so careful to apply it perfectly for Brock. She’d wanted to be the beautiful, grown up woman of his dreams.

  Moments later, Brock sat down beside her and put his arm around her. She pushed her face into his shoulder and cried harder.