Race to Recovery (Full Throttle) (3 page)

“Brant, you’re not listening. I can’t afford all that!”

“I’ll pay you back!”

“Unless you pay upfront I just don’t have the money for all your groceries for who knows how long, and a car part for our cover story,
and
a motel room.”

“Don’t do this to me Seth, I’m counting on you. This place is like a prison.”

“You can leave whenever you want.”

“You know damn well that I can’t. If I leave now I’ll go straight back to that drug dealer and buy another bottle of that crap. I can feel it, Seth. I’d kill for those damn pills. I don’t want to take them, I don’t want to ruin my career, I know how bad it would be to pop even one more but I want one. Hell, I want a bottle of them, just for the comfort of having the damn things in my hand.”

Seth scrubbed his face with his hands. “Okay. All right. I’ll do what I can. I have to call Mom tonight and let her know we’ve arrived somewhere safe and sound.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t mention rehab, whatever you do.”

“I don’t like lying to her, Brant.”

“You don’t like lying to anyone but you told Chloe and Dad we were going to pick up parts. Just keep up the story.”

“Brant, it’s not going to take us a week, or two, or three, to pick up parts. At some point I’ll need a better story.”

“Then make one up! Dammit Seth, I don’t care what you tell them as long as you don’t mention drugs or rehab to anybody! Just take care of it, okay?”

Seth’s shoulders slumped, defeated. Taking care of it was all he ever did. “Okay, fine. Look, I’m exhausted from all that driving, can I go find a motel now?”

“And what am I supposed to do?!”

“You could go down and watch TV, or maybe even pick up a book. It wouldn’t kill you to read a little more.”

“You sound like Mom. Look, I don’t want to go down there and be all buddy-buddy with a bunch of druggies and alcoholics.”

Seth’s lips thinned and he nodded. “You know you are sort of one of them now.”

“
I am not like them!”

“Okay, calm down, I didn’t ….”

“I’m not some low-life scum. I have never stolen money to pay for drugs. I’m no whore or pimp. I didn’t pawn any family heirlooms or throw a race or take a bribe, or anything else illegal. I never forgot a birthday because I was out getting drunk or high or whatever these people do. I have no plans to go back to that damn drug and I had no intention of getting hooked in the first place.”

“You think these people wanted to get hooked?”

“You have a choice to smoke up or snort or whatever. The doctors made me take the pain killers. After the last race the pain was so bad that I might have taken them too often but even that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want to drive and reinjure my foot but Chloe pulled out and left me high and dry. If she had done her job I wouldn’t be here right now with all these lowlifes.”

“Brant, you need to calm down. These rooms aren’t bugged but there’s no telling how thin the walls are. You don’t want to make enemies in here.”

“I don’t care what these losers think. I won’t be here long and I don’t plan on getting to know anyone.”

“Dr. Hurd said some of the people here are aggressive. You don’t want to get into any fights.”

He barked a laugh. “What are they going to do? Put me in solitary confinement? You said it yourself, this is no prison.”

“The can kick you out.”

“Oh shut up, Seth. They’re not going to kick me out because some junkie picks a fight with me.”

“Fine, whatever Are we going to sit and bitch for the next hour or did you have something for us to do?”

“I don’t play board games. They’re stupid. Cards are just as pointless.”

Seth sat back and crossed his arms. “Fine. You bitch, I’ll nap. Wake me up at eight.” He closed his eyes and ignored Brant’s swearing.

* * * *

The closest motel was five minutes back the way he’d come and it wasn’t a pretty place. At least two of the rooms had cardboard covering holes in the windows and his key didn’t work in the lock. He had to wait for the overnight maintenance man to show up before he could get it fixed since the girl at the desk had no clue what to do.

Seth dropped his bag on the only chair and shook his head. The bed looked okay but the carpet was dingy, the ceiling had water stains in several places, and the rest of the furniture looked more than gently used and slightly mismatched.

He headed to the phone and dialed home. He’d planned out his story in the car but as the phone kept ringing his heart pounded harder and his free hand began to feel clammy. “Come on,” he muttered, “Pick up.”

With any luck he’d get Chloe—their mother was notorious for being able to smell a lie, even over the phone.

Finally the phone stopped ringing, mid-tone, and the connection clicked through. “Hello!”

He only noticed he’d been holding his breath when it all escaped in a sigh of relief. “Chloe.”

“Seth! We were starting to get worried. Where are you?”

“In a motel in Utah.”

“Hold on.” She covered the mouth piece but he could still hear the sound of muffled voices. “Okay, Seth, I’m glad you’re both okay. Mom wants to talk to you.”

“No, Chloe, just give her a message for …”

“Hi Seth,” his mom said.

“Hi Mom.”

“Chloe said something about Utah?”

“Yeah, that’s right. We’re in a cheap motel here. Brant just ran out to pick up some sandwiches.”

“So late? You are taking care of yourselves, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We’re west of you, it’s only nine pm here, it must be eleven there. I shouldn’t have called so late.”

“Don’t worry about the time, Seth. It’s nice to hear from you. How long will you be out there?”

“I’m not sure, really. I think that last race was harder on Brant than he’s letting on. I think he wants to clear his head, forget how close he came to losing his career, and his life, and refocus before coming home.” It was as close to the truth as he could get without blowing Brant’s cover and he hoped it wouldn’t smell like a lie.

“All right. Your dad’s not going to like this but you take as long as you need to. I always thought he pushed this racing thing too hard.”

“I’ll keep in touch, I promise. And I won’t call so late next time.”

“And call collect. I’m sure the motel doesn’t have great long-distance coverage.”

“Are you sure? I know things are tight on the farm.”

“We can afford the occasional long-distance call, Seth. Now, take care of yourself, and your brother.”

“I will. Good-night, Mom.”

“Good-night, Seth.”

Mom hung up the phone and stared at her daughter for a long moment. “Well, those boys are up to something.”

“How do you know? Did he say something?”

“Brant’s as stubborn and closed in as your father; he’s not out there getting in touch with his feelings. Besides, Seth’s lying about something.”

“So why not call him on it and get the full story?”

“The same reason I didn’t call you on your lie when you phoned from New York. You’re all grown-ups now and whatever they’re dealing with they’ll have to deal with without me.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can’t wait to see the look on Seth’s face when he hears this one.”

Chapter Two

Brant was up early out of habit. He sat in his room until eight am and then began to pace. By 8:30 he was hungry and tired of waiting for Seth and the pacing was making his foot ache.
Seth is smart enough to find me. I might as well go choke down some breakfast while I wait.

There were more people in the dining room that morning and Brant actually had to wait in line. He could smell the coffee and his stomach rumbled audibly. Behind him a female voice said, “It sounds like you have a healthy appetite.”

He glanced up at the red head and his eyes hardened. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, don’t be so cold,” she said with a radiant smile and a flick of her hair. “You’re too cute to be an asshole.”

“We could test that,” he growled, moving ahead with the line, “But you might not like it.”

She laughed. “What’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m Penelope, well, Penny. But don’t let the name fool you. I’m not cheap.”

Brant glared and turned to eye the selection of cold cereals. The all looked like they were healthy and bland.

Penny elbowed him in the arm. “Come on, it was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh and tell me your name.”

He moved down the line and grabbed a plate from the pile and cutlery from the tray.

Penny took bran flakes and flicked her hair again. “You know, this place is like a health spa. I’ve lost five pounds since I arrived. And I’m kicking the habit. I mean, that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? But on the plus side I’ve never been this successful at dieting before.”

“Pancakes or French toast?” asked a bored looking middle-aged woman in a hair net.

“French toast, four slices.” The requested food was dropped on his plate and he moved on, ignoring Penny who was telling the poor woman that the pancakes should be made with whole grain flour.

Unfortunately the line was still crawling along and Penny quickly caught up with him as he was grabbing condiments. “You know, French toast is pretty healthy if you eat it plain. And you’d get to enjoy the flavour more. The margarine is nothing but fatty oils and the syrup is pure sugar.”

“That’s why I like them,” he growled and added extra syrup to his plate for spite.

Penny reached past him and grabbed a bowl of watermelon cubes. “Watermelon actually has negative calories because of all the water in them and the sweet taste is all natural, healthy, sugars.”

Brant gritted his teeth and grabbed an empty mug. When he reached for the coffee pot Penny started in on the evils of caffeine and that was all Brant could take. “You know, you’re a lot more attractive with your mouth shut.”

Her eyes went wide. “That is by far the rudest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Really? I can do better.”

“Don’t bother.”

“No, really. You’re too dense to take a hint and…”

A warm hand gripped Brant’s shoulder and a calm male voice said, “Brant Bye isn’t it? Dr. Hurd asked me to come down and talk to you about your evaluation. Sorry, Penny, I’ll have to steal this one.”

“He’s all yours,” she said with an indignant huff.

“Who are you?” Brant growled as the young man waved to the lady working the till and pulled Brant out of line.

“I’m Dr. Sebastian Keaton, one of the center’s psychologists. Where were you planning to sit?”

Brant almost said, ‘anywhere’, but the he caught sight of the blonde from the day before sitting alone and picking at a single pancake. He pointed to the open table just to the left of her and grunted, “Right there.”

Dr. Keaton followed him and sat across from him. “Dr. Hurd said he explained about the evaluation and follow up visits.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry to hear that but it is mandatory for all patients. Now, I understand you had someone with you when you checked in; your brother, I believe?”

“Yeah, my brother is here to support me, why?”

“I’ll want to talk to him as well—not about you, just about the role of a support person. I have some articles he may want to read.”

“Fine. Talk to him. I don’t care.”

“All right. I don’t have any regular appointments until after lunch so why don’t we meet right after breakfast?”

“I have to wait for my brother. He should be here soon.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Hurd will let him know where you’ve gone. I’ll see you in a short while. Oh, I guess you haven’t seen the offices yet. I’ll meet you at the foot of the stairs. Enjoy your breakfast.” He tapped the top of the table and wandered away.

Brant glared at the doctor’s back and stabbed a chunk of French toast.
No Seth this morning, and then Penny harasses me, and now some idiot doctor wants to get his nose in my personal business. Can this day get any worse?

His gaze fell lazily on the blonde who, in his anger, he had momentarily forgotten about. She hadn’t made much of a dent in her pancake and it didn’t look like she’d had anything else. She held her coffee cup in both hands, her elbows propped on the table as she blew on it and sipped carefully.

He ate slowly, watching her from the corner of his eye. It was strangely relaxing just to sit there and see how she cut her pancake or spread the jam. Her every movement was tiny and delicate and precise. She chewed slowly, she sipped slowly, and he gaze never wandered from her plate and cup.

He’d finished two slices of French toast before she’d finished her pancake and his coffee had run out but he was afraid she’d vanish if he went to get a refill. He was so preoccupied by her that he hadn’t thought of a single complaint about the food. He’d just made up his mind to talk to her, maybe offer to refill her coffee while he was up refilling his own, when Seth came in, unnoticed, with his grocery bag.

When Seth dropped into the chair Dr. Keaton had vacated three slices of French toast earlier, Brant finally did notice and looked up, perturbed by the interruption.

“I couldn’t find much but it should do you in a pinch. How’s breakfast?”

“Fine,” he said, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t really tasted a single bite. “Are you going to eat?”

“No, I ate already.” He leaned back and noticed the frail blonde. She looked even paler this morning but that could have been the white sweater she was wearing. She was eating as though she were afraid of the food. He dismissed her and turned back to Brant. “I got you some food but there’s not a lot that Dr. Hurd and those orderlies will let in.”

“I’ll look at it later. I have my evaluation this morning. Get me another cup of coffee, will you? Or I’ll be late.”

Seth rolled his eyes and took the mug.

With Seth momentarily out of the way Brant slid his chair closer to her table and leaned over. “Good morning,” he said. Even though he had kept his voice down, mainly to avoid alerting Seth, she jumped in her seat and turned to stare at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Brant.”

She kept her chin tucked and her eyes kept darting around, never meeting his gaze and never lingering on his face for longer than a second. “Uh, hi,” she managed.

Something in her voice tugged at Brant’s heart in a strange way. He didn’t understand it but he knew he had to get to know her if only so he could hear her speak again. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice coming out even gentler than he’d intended.

Seth set the cup down on the table. “Your coffee.”

Brant cursed silently and turned. “Thanks Seth.” Behind him he could hear her chair scraping against the floor. He turned again but she was already halfway to the pile of dirty trays, her unfinished breakfast in hand. “Dammit,” he growled. “I didn’t get her name.”

“You probably scared her,” Seth said.

“Can it, Seth.” He watched the girl hurry out of the room and pushed back from the table.

“Where are you going? What about your coffee?”

“You drink the damn coffee. I have an appointment with the idiot head-doctor.” Brant stormed off leaving Seth feeling confused and frustrated.

* * * *

Dr. Keaton’s office was no more than a finely furnished broom closet. Brant could feel the walls pressing in on him as he sat in the arm chair looking everywhere but at Dr. Keaton. “I thought you’d have a couch and a notepad,” Brant said.

“I get that a lot actually but I find most people are more comfortable just sitting. So tell me, when did your problem start?”

“You mean how long have I been an addict?”

“It’s sometimes hard to pinpoint when a person moves from freely choosing to absolute dependency. Why don’t you tell me why the doctors prescribed the pain killers in the first place?”

“I broke my foot.”

“Did you fall out of a tree?”

“I was in a car accident. I’m a stock car driver and someone sabotaged my car.”

“And your broken foot was your only injury?” His eyes were wide with genuine surprise.

“Yeah. I got lucky.”

“Seems like pretty strong drugs for a broken foot.”

“Okay, I crushed my foot and ankle. We were lucky the car was still driveable.”

“And did you drive with a crushed foot and ankle?”

“Yeah,” Brant said. It was truth, he had driven, but he knew he had to voice the lie that had saved his career. “I drove the heat trials and the big race. They gave me stronger meds when I went in for the second cast.”

“How long ago was this?”

“TIME”

“Hmmm. That’s a pretty short time to become dependent
and
realize you’re dependent
and
seek help.”

“If you’re questioning whether or not I’m here of my own free will or by my own choice or whatever ….”

“No, no, it’s not that. I’m quite amazed, that's all. A lot of patients I’ve dealt with have been addicted for years, living in denial, usually keeping it a secret from loved ones, before they realize they’re putting a lot of important things at risk and come looking for help. So the doctors gave you a prescription, and then what?”

“I told everyone that airport security had confiscated it and my family doctor wrote me another prescription.”

“That gave you two half bottles. What did you do when that ran out?”

“I bought a bottle off the street. I got halfway through that before I made it here. Do you need to know how many pills I took each day or how often I took them?”

Dr. Keaton took Brant’s belligerent attitude in stride and shook his head. “Not necessary right now. Tell me, do you ever get phantom pains in your foot?”

The very question made his foot ache dully. “I’m fine,” Brant growled.

“Does anyone besides your brother know about your addiction?”

“No.”

“You mentioned stock car racing, when did you start that?”

“At sixteen.”

“So nearly ten years. Was this your only accident?”

“No.”

“But no other injuries?”