“Let me go,” I growled at Cason, pushing him away. “I can walk, dammit. I’m not an invalid.”
“You were passed out, sweating like a pig, and mumbling about God knows what. Chill, I’ll let you walk,” he snapped, backing away with a glare.
“You couldn’t have gotten me clothes?” I asked him harshly. Why was I being so mean? I couldn’t even stop the words from coming out.
“You’re right. Next time I think my brother is dying or something, I’ll just stop for clothes. And if the girl that’s head over heels for him tries to stop me, I’ll just kick her out or something,” he mocked, rolling his eyes at me.
I wanted to punch him but something he said reminded me of the previous night. “Francesca.”
“Yeah, bro, you don’t want to screw that up. Now get out of the car so we can go inside,” he commanded.
We sat outside the emergency entrance of the medical center. I knew something was wrong, but I also thought I knew how to fix it. This happened once before, a few years ago, and all I needed was a drink. Or two. I couldn’t tell Cason that, though. He was already on my ass about drinking. If I went in there…they’d know. The doctors would tell him and he’d tell Pops. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my temples. Think, Cade. “Bro, it’s probably just a virus. It’s cool. Just take me home,” I said, hoping and praying I was convincing.
“Why did you tell her to call me?” he prodded.
“I…didn’t,” I stammered, turning to face him.
“Yeah, you did. I know what’s going on here. You’re having withdrawals, aren’t you?” he accused, bending in the door of the car to get in my face.
“Back off, Cason. It’s probably food poisoning,” I lied.
“When was the last time you drank?” he quizzed.
“Cason, lay off me. Just take me home,” I demanded.
Folding his arms across his chest, he stared at me. “Either you talk to me and tell me the truth, or I’ll drag you in there and let the doctors tell me. Which one will it be, big bro?”
I leaned my head back against the headrest and sighed loudly. “Fine. Yes, I am. Happy?” I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I couldn’t see the disappointment that would be there. “I told Francesca I wouldn’t drink for our date and haven’t had anything since yesterday morning. Well, besides a swig of vodka to rid myself of a headache.”
“You’ve had headaches too?” he asked. He actually sounded concerned this time.
I nodded, “Yeah, and I threw up. Can we please just go back to my place?”
“Cade, I think you need help. Like rehab or AA or something,” he said.
“What?!” I bellowed out, jumping from the car. “I’m not a damn alcoholic. Why won’t you just leave it alone?” I was in his face. I wanted to hit him, but I knew I was weak. He would have me down in no time.
“You aren’t? Cade…you’re having withdrawals. You lost your job. You drink every day. Would you at least talk to someone?”
“I’m talking to you,” I smarted back.
“You know what I mean. Either agree or I’m throwing you over my arm and taking you in there,” he threatened.
“Fine. Whatever. Can we go?” I pleaded. My baby brother was pissing me off.
“Monday. You have to talk to someone on Monday,” he said, not budging from his position.
Now what? How do I get out of this? Groaning, I shook my head in compliance. I would find a way out of it later. I needed to get home, shower, and get something in me. He finally walked around, slamming his door shut. He kept looking at me, but I ignored him. I couldn’t do this right now.
My thoughts went back to Francesca as he drove. Her soft skin against mine, the sexy way she moaned in my ear, and her eyes as we made love. She was amazing. She had no idea how much she meant to me, and I hadn’t even gotten to tell her because once again, I screwed it all up. I couldn’t fully remember everything that happened this morning. After we tired ourselves out, I’d laid in her arms and feel into a deep sleep. I hadn’t slept that well in years. Her heartbeat lulled me to sleep in minutes. I wanted her there with me every night. Forever. After what had happened, I didn’t know if I stood a chance with her.
“She was really worried about you,” Cason’s voice broke through.
“What?” I asked, finally turning in his direction.
“Francesca. She was pacing when I showed up this morning. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. I think she loves you, man. You need to get ahold of this if you want to stand a chance with her.”
His lecture hit me deep. He was right. I did have a problem, but I couldn’t admit it to them I knew that. It was embarrassing…stupid. Drinking my problems away had been my escape for as long as I could remember. What would I do without it? How would I cope? Would I be able to be with Francesca? I’d probably always fight my…addiction. Even thinking it was difficult and made my breath hitch. I decided in that moment, after he told me he thought Francesca loved me, that I would go on Monday and talk to someone. I would get help. I would stop hiding behind alcohol and be the man Francesca deserved. My shaking hands distracted me. I didn’t know how to get over these reactions. I’d stop after I talked to someone and they told me I had a problem. No point in giving it up today.
Cason dropped me off, almost refusing to leave. I had to kick him out, then called Jay as soon as I could. I practically had to beg him to pick up a bottle of Jack and Whiskey on his way to pick up his truck, but he finally obliged when I told him I’d throw in an extra $50 for him. I sat on the couch, waiting for Jay, and tried to recall the events after I passed out. I vaguely remembered throwing up and Francesca in my kitchen. I stood, stopping long enough to make the dizziness die down, and made my way to the room, wondering what she was up to in there. Everything was spotless, the dishes washed, the trash tied and by the door. The trash. She saw all those empty bottles. It looked like a damn liquor store in here and she now knew how much I truly drank. The knocking at the door stopped me from cursing myself.
Jay stood just outside, the bag with the goodies in his hand. “Hey,” he said, smiling. He looked me over, then his face grew dark. “You ok, man? You don’t look so good.”
I waved my hand, taking the bag, “Food poisoning.” I fished the keys to his truck out, handing them over. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem…but, Cade, there’s a motorcycle and a bench in the back of it,” he said, his face clearly confused.
“Shit. Hang on, let me put some clothes on,” I told him, taking the bag to the bedroom with me. I twisted the cap off as silently as I could, downing three long gulps. The burn was harsh, but much needed. I threw on jeans and a t-shirt, heading to assist with my belongings. “I’m ready.”
He walked out the door, jumped off my porch, and opened the tailgate. I walked up beside him, grasping the bench from the bottom and the back, then hefting it down.
“Dude, did you drink while you got ready? I can smell the Jack from here,” he laughed.
“What? Nah, I think you just smelled it from the store,” I said, hoping I threw him off of smelling me anymore.
“If you say so, man. Where’s the bike going?” he asked as I lugged the bench up my steps.
“Just put it right beside the rail here. Thanks, Jay. I’ll talk to you later,” I called, maneuvering the huge seat threw the door. Why did I steal this thing? I finally wedged it in, only taking about half the wood off the top of the backrest. I slid in the rest of the way, seating it right inside the door. Now I had an entry place for company to sit, like I was important or something. Just hoped the cops didn’t show up anytime soon. I jogged back to the bedroom, taking the bag with me to the couch. I popped in some movie about guns and love, then finished off the bottle. It didn’t last as long as it should, as long as I wanted it to. I finished the movie, then watched a few others.
Around 9:00 p.m., my phone chimed, signaling I had a message. I searched my pock
ets, the cushions, and the table, but couldn’t find it. I must have fell asleep looking, because I woke sometime in the middle of the night, noticing my phone was flashing on the coffee table beside me. I scrolled through and my heart skipped a few beats when I saw Francesca had texted me.
Her: Are you ok? I can’t get ahold of Cason.
Scratching my head, I debated on whether I should answer or not. It was late, but it was also the weekend. I shouldn’t do this to her. I shouldn’t have led her to me, taken her out, made love to her. Yes, it was the most magnificent night of my life and she meant more than words could say, but she deserved so much more than me. So much better. A man that wasn’t boggled down with an addiction, that had a job that was as amazing as hers, that knew how to deal with his damn problems. I threw the phone back down, deciding I would reply back later. When I was in a better mood, more sober. I fell into a restless sleep with her face in most of my dreams.
Mangled Hearts Page 22
