Forbidden (Addicted to You Book 2) (23 page)

“Due to the coma we can’t pump the charcoal in the way it would normally be done. We are administering small doses in an effort to absorb any remnants of the drug. Right now, it’s really a waiting game Mr Phillips. He’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s stable. We won’t know the effects of the stroke or the heart attack until he is awake.”

“I see.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Can I see him?”

“I will take you back in a moment. But before we do that, I really need to get some basic information and have some papers filled out. You were listed as his emergency contact and next of kin. That is why you were called in.”

“Okay.”

I spent the next half an hour of my life filling in vital information about my brother. Things I’d always known just because we were all the other had. There were a few things asked that I would have to get before I could answer. Things like whether he had a living will and what his insurance information was. Kevin had a good job with full benefits. I had no clue what any of that information was, but I had access to the safe he kept in his apartment that held it.

When I finally finished, Dr. Jenison stood to take me back to the room that held my brother. Along the way she told me that I’d be surprised at his appearance. He didn’t look good. I just nodded and tried to force out the thoughts of me storming out of his apartment. For the first time in a while my mind wasn’t on Avery. It was solely on my brother and the failure I’d been when it came to helping him. He’d always helped me and when he needed me the most I’d failed him.

Her warnings didn’t prepare me for what I’d see. I hadn’t noticed how thin he was, but laying on the emergency room bed he looked like one of those starving kids on TV. His skin was pale — damn near invisible— and he had lesions across his body.

“What are those?” I asked.

“The ones across his midsection are likely caused from scratching. I’m not sure what might have caused the itch. As much of the drug as he had in his body— it’s likely that he imagined things. Paranoia and psychosis is common with excessive use.” I felt my hands shaking as I looked at his arms. “Those are needle marks.”

“He was shooting?”

“Yes, it appears so. Judging from the healing on some of them, he’d been injecting for quite some time.”

“I didn’t— I never knew that.”

“That’s one thing addicts generally don’t share. Even if they don’t understand it, they are aware of the stigma of drug use and especially using needles.”

“He said he’d never do that.”

“Addiction is a strong thing Mr Phillips,” she told me, as if I hadn’t known that. “Most lose control of themselves and their choices.”

I stood looking at my brother and wishing I could rewind the night. He’d disappointed me. He’d made me angry. He’d hurt me. That’s why he was there. He was trying to take away the bad feelings. I’d never hear him say that. But I knew him and so I knew.

“Mr Phillips,” she put a hand on my shoulder. “Your brother will be moved to a private room once he is stable enough.”

“That’s good,” I nodded, knowing my responses were robotic.

“We don’t know how things will be when he’s awake. But we do know he’s going to need help. You should be as strong as possible by that time.”

“Of course,” I answered automatically. “I’m always there to help him.”

“I understand,” she nearly whispered. “But maybe you should find some help of your own.”

I turned suddenly and faced her. What the hell was she trying to say?

“I’m not an addict!” I yelled— immediately regretting it.

“I know that Mr Phillips,” she softened her voice and smiled at me, making me feel all the more guilty. “But having someone close addicted— going through this process— it takes a toll. Even the strongest people are affected when a loved one is on drugs. I was referring more to the fact that you need a support system of your own.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, turning to leave. “I’ll be back to check tomorrow. Will I receive a call if anything changes?”

“Absolutely,” she answered, her face showing surprise that I wasn’t staying.

“Thanks,” I offered and walked out the door.

I knew I was horrible. My brother was lying there in a coma and I was leaving. I had to. I couldn’t face it. Seeing him like that drove it home. He could die. He might die. Even if he didn’t die, he might wake up completely different. My brother may never be the same. And it was my fault. It was more than I could handle and that night I needed to get the hell out of that emergency room and fast.

I wanted to go to Avery but I couldn’t explain. I didn’t want her to know this. I didn’t want her to live this. So I went home, text her and told her I loved her, and drank until I passed out— my only thought being why couldn’t it be me lying in that bed. Why couldn’t I be the one facing death? God knows I didn’t much like life anymore.

Chapter 23

“Can’t say I’ll miss the room,” Colby laughed as we finished packing our things.

“I can’t say I’ll miss anything.”

I couldn’t contain my despair anymore. Not even to make her okay. I’d woke up hopeful and checked my phone. Nothing. She knew we were leaving that day and she hadn’t even said goodbye. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about her. I certainly didn’t want to think about the tubby dude she was cohabitating with.

“At least we had a day of good memories,” she offered, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yea,” I replied. “We did.”

My bag was packed and I was ready, but I found myself sitting on the bed instead. My body didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to accept that she wasn’t coming with us. What I really want to do was get in that rental car, drive to Mr. Money’s house and drag her ass out. If I had to kick his ass to do it— well that was a bonus.

But I couldn’t. I knew that’d only make the situation worse. Avery had been given a choice and it appeared that she was making it. I couldn’t try and change her mind.

“We have to accept it Spencer,” Colby muttered as she zipped her bag and sat down beside me. “She wants this.”

“Why?” I asked the question that had plagued me. Why would she choose a home so far away? What made her want him over me?

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “We hurt her.”

I knew that was true, but I didn’t understand it. She’d been hurt before. She’d never given up. I couldn’t have imagined her choosing someone else. Especially someone like Luke. He wasn’t anything like Avery and never would be. How could she not see that?

At that point I wasn’t just hopeless, I was pissed the fuck off. I didn’t want to leave without seeing her again. But I knew forcing myself on her would only make it worse. She’d reject me and I’d leave more broken than I already was.

Besides, Colby had to go like this. She couldn’t leave on a bad note. She wasn’t ready for what was coming in life— the guilt and the pain— and she needed her happy memories. I would make do. I would be okay even if it was worse for me. Being able to say what I felt almost made it seem like it’d be worth the reaction. But I’d do it for Colby.

When the hell did I actually start to care about the blond bitch? The thought made me laugh, but I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to explain to her. I’m sure she knew that she’d always been a thorn in my side. But I bet she’d never have guessed she was someone I’d nicknamed to show just how insignificant she was. Why make this a bad day by telling her?

At that moment she was all I had. Even knowing that would go away— I didn’t want to lose it right then. I couldn’t.

“She’s missing out” It was all I had. A joke. As if Avery were the one losing something. “She’d have enjoyed seeing you with a cowboy.”

Colby laughed through the pain. A thought like that both hurt and made us smile. She knew what I meant. Her hatred of country music. Sitting in a country bar and getting up close and very personal with a cowboy. Avery would have been laughing for days.

“The cowboy? How about seeing us get along?”

That was true. Avery had never seen Colby and I do anything but fight and hate each other. Sure, she’d seen us together while we were there trying to get her. But she’d have never guessed that we would be the way we’d been. She’d have never imagined us almost being friends.

“Well yea,” I laughed at her question. “That would have definitely made her smile.”

“She didn’t,” Colby noted. “Smile I mean.”

The thought had gone through my head at the same time. The entire time we’d seen her she hadn’t smiled once. She wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sure what she was.

“I know.”

“Think she will come back Spencer?” Colby looked so hopeful. I didn’t want to crush her spirits. Even though we both stood there knowing the likelihood was small.

“Who wouldn’t?” I teased. “Who wouldn’t come back to us?”

“True,” she laughed.

The conversation died there. We didn’t want to speak because neither of us wanted to say the truth. So we left it there and pretended it wasn’t the way it was. Slowly we loaded the car and both of us climbed inside. We had about two hours until time to be at the airport, but there was nothing left to want to do.

At least nothing that didn’t include a stop at rich boy’s house to pick up the person we loved. So we drove to the airport— turning in the rental car and finding a place to sit and wait. Colby opened a book and I pretended I didn’t see the tears streaming down her face as she held it up to read it. She pretended she didn’t see the way I hung my head in despair and wished we could get home and be done with the hardest part.

I’d left Avery many times. None of them were what I really wanted. I’d been afraid. I’d been trying to protect her, but also trying to protect myself. But this time— leaving her in South Carolina with another man— it was going to be the one that killed me.

We could sit and pretend. Cling to the hope that she’d come back. That everything would fall into place. That somehow and in some way our lives would be the same. But we knew better. Colby and I both knew. It was over. She’d made her choice. And that was the part that shattered us both. She’d chosen him. She’d chosen this. She’d chosen to be unhappy and empty and void of everything. That had been a better alternative than the hurt we kept causing.

As we sat in the airport, waiting on our flight and ignoring the other— we knew. It was our fault. Every last stab of pain we were feeling as we headed on our journey back— we’d caused it. And that was only a fraction of the hurt she’d felt when we both abandoned her.

Neither of us hated Avery. We didn’t even hate Luke. We hated ourselves.

I almost wished we were going out the way we’d come in. Arguing. Snapping at and blaming the other. At least the noise could drown out the feelings that were building inside of me. At least we’d have something to focus on. Part of thought about picking a fight just to do that. Avoid. But I didn’t.

We sat in silence until time to board the plane. Neither of us speaking. Neither of us with anything to say that wouldn’t hurt us both.

As the plane prepared to take off Colby stared out the window. I was pretty sure she was thinking the same things I was. She was also hiding the same tears. Briefly she reached out and took my hand in hers. A small gesture. We were together. We may be hurting, but we weren’t alone. As soon as we were in the air the moment passed and Colby closed her eyes and slept.

The flight home was no more eventful than the one we’d taken to get there. It, too, was spent in silence. This time because neither of us had any words. At least none that we wanted to say out loud.

I tried to watch the movie. I tried to read a magazine. I tried to watch the other passengers and think about their lives. It was all pointless. My heartache was too deep. The despair was too strong.

Arriving at O’Hare was the hardest part of all. The pretending was over. We couldn’t keep finding ways to ignore the truth. We were about to venture out in separate directions— going back to a life where reality would be in our face. Nothing was the same. Nothing ever would be. And from that point on we’d be facing it alone.

“I can take you home,” I offered after Colby grabbed her bags.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m going to catch a cab.”

“That’s a waste of money,” I insisted. “Let me take you.”

“Spencer,” she put her hand on my arm. “I need to do this alone. I need to be alone.”

I nodded and she spun around, one bag dragging behind her and another thrown over her shoulder. Her head was held high, the smile on her face— but her feet dragging slowly showed me that she wasnt any more ready than I was.