Razor's Edge (Afflictions) (28 page)

Gone is the sympathy. Wiley’s eyes flash with anger. “He wouldn’t do that. His dad died because he was an addict.”

This is a newsflash to me. Morgan never told me about his dad. Hell, now that I remember our relationship, he never really told me anything about himself other than he raised Logan because the bottle and needles—
Oh, shit!
He did tell me. I just wrote it off. I’m such a bitch. “If that’s the case, then why did he do it?”

Wiley shrugs.

I need to see Morgan. I have to know that he’s okay. What the hell was he thinking? Do I really want to stick to the plan and go back to him now? Can I be with another heroin addict? My head’s light.

Tryst grumbles something then stalks off in the direction
Bebe and Ben went.

“Here.” Wiley hands me a water bottle.

“Why are you being nice to me?” If anything I thought he’d be the one to throw me out when we arrived.

“You’re pregnant with my boy’s baby.” He shrugs and sits down next to me, crossing an ankle over his knee. “I don’t have to like you. But you shouldn’t be stressed out.”

“I don’t get you.”

“There’s nothing to get. Morgan was a complete mess on this tour because of you.”

And here it comes.
I knew this version of nice Wiley wouldn’t stick.

He turns in the seat to face me. “Not trying to upset you. I’ve never seen Morgan drink. He’s never been this jacked up over a chick before. I know how he feels. And it’s my responsibility as his friend to take care of his shit while he can’t. If something happened to you or that baby you’re carrying and I had the power to stop it and didn’t, he’d kill me.”

Wiley is a strange guy. Somehow I’m comforted by his words. I’m upset that Morgan fell apart, that I caused it, but Wiley is putting aside his personal feelings toward me. He’s worried about his friend. He’s not an asshole. Sure, he has those qualities sometimes, but he’s a good friend.

“Just don’t fuck with his emotions anymore. He can’t take it.” Wiley turns in his seat and looks back at the TV.

“I’m not going to. I—” And I catch myself. I don’t want anyone to know I love him. I’m not even sure if love is enough. I’m here, but I didn’t know he was using heroin.

He nods.

That’s all I get. It’s all that can be expected. I’m the one who messed everything up. I almost lost Morgan for good. I stuck by a heroin addict and lost, but he was evil to the core. Morgan’s not. He’s got a good soul. The question I still can’t answer is, can I stick by another man fighting an addiction? Can I put myself, my son, or this baby through all the emotional BS that goes with it? I just don’t know if I can.

  
Thirty-two

Morgan

My feet are cold. The bathroom walls are quiet. The whole house is so quiet. I stare down at the sight in front of me. He’s naked, laying back with his head against the wall and his butt planted firmly on the toilet. There is a loose band around his arm and a needle and spoon on the floor. Gone is his tan complexion. His lips are blue. Sunken-in cheeks and closed, hollowed eyes, he looks nothing like the man I remember, the man who used to play with me and bring me home gummy worms when he got off of work.

I take three steps in. “Dad?”

No response, and in that moment, I know he’s dead.

Logan’s screams pierce the silence. I turn to see my five-year-old brother, green eyes wide and mouth hanging open. His screaming doesn’t want to stop.

I block the view and grab his arm. “Go get Mom.”

He blinks at me a few times then darts toward the living room.

I turn around. I know Dad’s gone, but something inside me has to make sure. Heart racing and hands shaking I draw closer to him. My breath hitches as I take that last step and reach out to touch him.

His eyes fly open. “Morgan!”

I jump. This was never part of the nightmare before. I look down at my ten-year-old self, but he’s gone. Instead, my arms have hair, my legs are longer, and my chest…bigger? I look back at my Dad.

He’s sitting on a tree stump smoking a Lucky Strike.
He’s no longer naked and he doesn’t look as sickly as he did the night I found him. He looks young and healthy. His green eyes bore into mine. “Not good, son.” He shakes his head. “I give you an opportunity and you blow it to hell.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything. I’ve waited for over two decades to say my piece. But none of the words I thought to say to him before come to mind. Instead I look around.

We aren’t in the bathroom anymore. We’re in the back field of our old house, the one we lived in before Logan was born. When times were simpler and happy. Before his drugs and Mom’s bottle took over.

He takes a long drag on his smoke. “The woman and her kid.”

“Shay?”

He nods. “You really done fucked up. Didn’t cha?”

This is what my brain conjures? I was on stage and—

“Don’t start thinking about how you got here. You don’t want to go back yet. Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

“Am I dead?’

He laughs. “Dead? No. Not yet. If you play your cards right, not for a while.”

“Then where—”

“Limbo. Up, the shiny gates of Heaven. Down, the dark pit of despair. You get the gist.” He butts his cigarette, pulls out another and lights it.

Guess you don’t have to worry about emphysema when you’re dead. This is some fucking trip. I’m never touching a speedball ever again.

“Wise choice.” He exhales. “Wouldn’t want to end up like dear old Dad.”

“Did you just—”

“I know what you’re thinking. And good. I hope you’re better at sticking to that decision than I was.” He motions to another stump that has magically sprouted out of
thin air. “Take a seat.”

“Is this like some divine intervention or something?”

“That’s a funny thing to call it. But most just say it’s a near-death experience.” 

“So I get to go back?”

My Dad’s eyebrows pinch. “This is serious. You are at a crossroads in your life. But you’ve jumped your track. So fate had to step in and put you back on course.”

“I don’t believe in that shit.”

He puts out his cigarette and lights another. “Then what do you call this?”

“A really bad trip.”

He nods. “You’re not supposed to end up downstairs. Do enough of that drug you love so much and that’s where you’ll be. It’ll consume you. Your fate isn’t written in stone. It’s your free will that decides what happens when you get here. I was sent to tell you that you need to make a change. Get yourself back on course.”

I sigh. “I don’t know how.”

“Yes. You do.” He stands and stretches. “I’ve met a lot of interesting people while I’ve been in limbo
—
one a few years back, pretty little thing, her boyfriend messed her up pretty bad. She was off course too, just like you. I was assigned to send her back. Do you know what I saw when I touched her hand to guide her?”

Now would be an excellent time to wake up. Wake up! Wake up, Morgan! I don’t want to hear anything anymore. I don’t want to be here. What did he say to do? Remember how I —

“I saw you, Morgan. When I touched her hand I saw you. Smoking pot in your garage with your friends
—
well, not all of them were your friends. But I heard you say something about never being as stupid as Bryan. About never falling for a woman. In your head you thought that you would never be as stupid as me because your mother ruined me. That’s not true. We destroyed each other because we were poison together. Had we met other people maybe we wouldn’t have turned out that way. But Shay, she lifts you up. Doesn’t put you down. I sent her to you. Don’t shit on my gift.”

He grabs my hands and stares deep into my eyes. “I love you, Son.”

“I love—”

“You.” My breath heaves and I shoot straight up. The smell of antiseptic and chemicals hit my nose. Cold commercial walls surround me.
I’m in the hospital?

“You’re awake!” Ben flies into my lap and wraps me in a tight hug.

Where the hell did he come from? I hug him back, but my mind is still spinning from my dream. Or near-death experience. I have no idea what the hell it was. Definitely not using any more drugs anytime in the future.

“Ben. Leave Morgan alone.” Shay comes out of the bathroom like some kind of freaking angel. The light glows around her rounded figure.
She’s my Angel.
I don’t know why she’s here, but that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now. Not the past. Not what we both did to each other. The only thing that matters is that she’s here.

Ben unlatches from me, but I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m seeing her now in a new light. Not the shrine to motherhood I put her on—that had expectations. I don’t expect anything from her anymore, because nothing turns out how you want it to be. She’s not perfect and neither am I. And if we don’t demand things then that leaves room for good things to come.

Her brows pinch. “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?” She wipes the side of her perfect mouth. “I was eating Cheez-Its.”

Cheez
-Its. I laugh and it feels great! “My perfect angel who eats Cheez-Its.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “You’re not messed up are you?” She points to her head. “Up here?”

Ben laughs and bounces on the bed. “Morgan’s hilarious when he’s groggy.”

Shit! Did I say that out loud? “Um, no. As far as I can tell, I’m mentally stable.”
Just had a really fucked up dream. One where my dad came to me and said, “Hey, son. You looked a little lonely so I sent this chick to you.”
I shake my head. “How long was I out?”

“You had a really bad case of the flu.” Ben touches my forehead. “You’re not burning up anymore.”

“Ben, why don’t you go tell Tryst and the others that Morgan is awake—and coherent, this time.” Shay rounds the left side of the bed and sits down in the recliner.

“Sure thing.” He springs off the bed. “Bryan owes me ten bucks. Time to collect.”

Before I can ask him why Bryan owes him ten, he’s out the door.

“Bryan bet Ben ten bucks on a video game and Ben whooped his ass.”

I laugh. I feel great. “How long was I out?”

Shay stands, then rethinks it and sits back down. Tears brim in her eyes. I’ve only seen this women cry twice since I’ve known her, so it must have been bad.

“You died on stage, but the EMTs had a defibrillator and brought you back. You were only dead for about forty seconds. Or so they tell me. But you were in and out of consciousness for three days while you detoxed.” She clears her throat and wipes her eyes. “God, you were in so much pain.”

“I don’t remember.” All I remember is Dad.

She nods. “They said you might not. I didn’t believe them, because your eyes were open and you talked to me.”

My heart thumps in my chest.

Shay pulls some Kleenex from a tissue box and wipes her nose.

I hurt her so bad, and all I want to do is comfort her. I hold my hand out to her. “Come here.”

She looks at my hand like it’s diseased.

Right.
She’s still mad at me. This is going to take some time. “I’m sorry, Shay.” I let my hand fall to the bed. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

She shakes her head and stands. “What were you thinking?
Heroin
, Morgan? Seriously?” Her eyes bore into mine, the heat behind them burning me like I deserve to be burned. But this isn’t the end of us. I won’t let it be.

“I was stupid.”

“You got that right.” She begins to pace.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just saw you with him and it gutted me.”

She stops and looks at me. “I know that. But heroin isn’t a cure all. I’ve already gone through one relationship with an H-junkie. I can’t do it again.”

Maybe Dad was wrong. Maybe it was just a dream, if she hasn’t given me any hint that she wants to restart what we had. That’s not right. She wouldn’t be here if that were the case. There has to be a little hope. I’m going to have to prove myself. “I love you, Shay.”

   Thirty-three

Morgan

Shay shakes her head and sits back down in the recliner.

Everything inside me goes still. She looks pale. Hell, it took a lot for me to say that. The frown on her face socks me in the gut.
Should’ve kept that revelation to myself.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Her voice is flat.

Is this a trick question?

“Why I drove five hours to make sure you were okay, when
Bebe could have just talked to Tryst and filled me in?”

“I—”

“I love you too, Morgan.”

Elation touches every part inside me.

“But I don’t want to love you.”

And everything plummets.

She stands, then sits down on the bed next to me and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “When I saw you drop on stage, everything inside me stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if you just fainted or if you were dead. I’ve never felt fear like that before. In that moment, everything that went wrong between us didn’t matter and I had to get to you. Told myself that we could makeup and be fine. If you didn’t want me anymore, I was prepared to beg. But then I heard what happened. What you did.”

She shakes her head, but inches closer to me on the bed. “I don’t know if I can go through that again. For three days I sat here and watched you detox. Maybe I wanted a reminder of why I shouldn’t be with you. The emotions and
feelings needed to be embedded in my head so that when you woke up I wouldn’t beg.” Tears are free-falling down her face. She sniffs and wipes her eyes then drops her gaze to the bed.

I caused her so much pain. It’s not right to put her through more. “You shouldn’t take me back.”

She looks up at me, and her hand lands lightly on my thigh. “I’ve watched Gary detox a ton of times, but seeing you go through it? It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”

I think I know why it was harder for her, but I need to hear her say it. “Why was it worse?”

“I wasn’t in love with Gary. Not really. I was too young to understand that what he offered wasn’t love.” She bites her lip and looks down at the sheet. “Sometimes I’d sit there and wish the detox would kill him. It was a horrible thing to think about, but I was tired of the abuse and thought I’d never escape him.” Her eyes meet mine and she inches closer to me. “With you, I looked at you and felt pity. He deserved to go through that, you didn’t. You’re a good man, Morgan, and it kills me that I ruined you. I can’t watch you go through that again. I won’t.”

Ruined me?
“It’s not your fault.”

She smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Seriously.” I take her hand and she tries to pull it away, but I tighten my hold. “Yes, I was hurt. You went back to him, and I felt rejected, but you’re not the sole reason I shot up. My dad died of a heroin overdose when I was ten. I’m the one who found him. So when I picked up the needle I wanted to know why he loved the drug more than his family. And I found out why he did. And I don’t want to end up like him. ‘Morgan, the singer of Stones of Rage, was found dead, naked on a toilet, from a heroin overdose.’ That’s not the legacy I want to leave behind. I swear I’ll never touch it again.”

I loosen my grip and she doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No child should have to see it. Ben shouldn’t witness it either. I can’t believe you.”

“And I don’t blame you.” She’s been through this situation over and over again. How can I ask her to trust me when I’ve already broken the faith she’s had in me? “I’ll check into rehab.”

Don’t need it. I’ll never touch it again. I’ve learned my lesson. What I have with her is way better than the substitute feelings the drug gave me. But if it will prove to her I’m serious, I’ll do it. Was thinking about doing it anyway.

Her eyes brighten. “Really?”

Didn’t asshole ever promise to do that?

“Yes, really. Do you think I want Ben to find me dead? Do you think I want our daughter to see me like that? Hell, no. It hurts me so goddamn bad that I let you down. That I pulled a Gary. That’s not who I am or who I want to be.”

She lets go of my hand and hugs me tight. Her body is shaking and a sob erupts from her.

I hold her to me and cling to the possibility that we’ll be okay. Her being here, giving me this opportunity to make things right, tells me that she loves me. But there is one more thing I have to know. “Why did you dump me? And why did you make sex tapes with Gary?”

She pulls away quickly and stares at the door, then the ceiling, the wall, the window, everywhere but my eyes. Then her head falls.

There’s a knock at the door and Wiley peers his head in. “Is it safe to enter?”

Not right now.
“Give us a couple more minutes.”

Wiley nods and closes the door.

I reach out to Shay, but she flinches and stands.

“Why’d you pick Asshole?”

Shay

How can a perfect moment turn so fast? He agreed to rehab, something Gary never did unless it was court ordered. He wants to take the steps to better himself, I can see the truth in his eyes. I believe, more than I ever have before, that Morgan won’t touch heroin again. He says I’m not the sole reason why he went and sought comfort from a drug. But all I feel is shame.

“Shay?”

I look back at him. He’s sitting straight up in the bed now. He still looks like Morgan, just a little sicker. Skinnier and pale. In a couple days he’ll be back to full health, ready to take on the world. Will he be ready to handle the problems that Gary now poses? I should have said no to Gary from the start, and none of this would have happened. I was weak and let my fear degrade me.

I take a deep, steadying breath. “I didn’t want to have sex with him. I hated it.” Then I go into the story about why I did it, how Gary was holding Ben over my head and I felt helpless. “I was hoping that you would see that I was acting. But you didn’t. And when I tried to tell you it was an act, you ran away. That hurt me the most—that you gave up easily.”

“I—” His voice cracks. “I thought you were picking him over me and I was hurt. But not as hurt as I was when I saw the videos. How could you sign on to do those?”

The videos.
Gah.
“I never agreed to do videos. He taped me without my consent.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He lied.” My stomach twists. ”You actually think I could do something like that?”

“I don’t know, Shay. Where Ben is concerned you’ll do anything.”

“Not that.”

He sighs.

I wish he would believe me. “If I trust you enough to believe that you’ll kick heroin, you should trust me enough to know I’d never do that.”

“I do trust you.” He moves aside his hospital gown and points to the orange star I tattooed on his body. “Remember you asked me if I would ever forgive you if you messed up real bad and I said I would?”

I nod. “But you didn’t. You took one look—”

“And ever since then, when I look at it I’m reminded of the promise I broke. But the past doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how we’re going to fix the present so we can have a future.” Morgan runs a hand through his hair and lets out a frustrated sigh. “He wants me to pay him ten grand a month to keep those videos from going viral.”

That asshole!
And Morgan thought I consented to those? Anger slowly builds inside of me but I remind myself that this is just another way for Gary to drive a wedge between us. I won’t let him win. “You thought I was playing you, didn’t you?”

He shrugs.

“I’d never do that.” I lay next to him on the bed, hoping that my closeness will get through to him. I run my hand along his stubbled jaw. “You have to know that I love you too much to do that. What’re you going to do?”

“What can I do? I have to pay him the ten grand.”

“Absolutely not!” I jerk back from him. He will not. I’m not going to let him give any money to that jerk.

“Your rep—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about my rep.” That anger I was suppressing comes back with a force so strong I want to tear Morgan a new one. He’s not giving that asshole a cent of what he makes. “I won’t let you do that. There has to be another way. I’ll sue him.”

“He said you signed papers.”

“I. Did. Not!” My heart’s beating fast and I inhale deeply. “The only papers I signed with him were the papers to…”
That fucker.

“To what?” He grabs my arm. “Tell me.”

“He must have slipped those papers in with the documents signing his rights away. I knew he gave in too easy.”

“So what do we do now?”

I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not going to let Morgan give any money to that bastard. “I’ll call my lawyer. There has to be something he can do.”

I hope there is something he can do. There has to be a loophole in the contract I signed, somewhere, that will prohibit Gary from blasting those tapes on the net.

He pulls me into the comfort of his arms. “If not, I think I know how to get him to stop. I can hack into his computer. There has to be something incriminating on it. We’ll blackmail him.”

He’d do that for me? He’s on my side. I told him everything that went on these last three months, and even though I saw the pain in his eyes as I retold it, he still wants to help me? Gary’s not going to scare him off like he did my parents or Tryst? He’s not judging me. I grab his head and kiss him hard.

Warmth swells in my chest as he kisses me back with as much as I’m giving him. The lacerations his actions caused on my heart slowly begin to stitch themselves back together. I feel whole. Strong—like nothing will ever come between us again. Our mistakes have scarred us, but we’re stronger now because of them, because our love is unconditional. If this is the worst thing that we’ll ever have to face and we can bounce back ready to take on more, there is hope for us.

His fingers go into my hair and he pulls back. “God, I’ve missed you.” His face falls. “I haven’t been good. I’ve done drugs and slept with other women while we’ve been
apart.”

And I really don’t care. His words sting, but I slept with Gary and degraded myself. He’s seeing past that, and is willing to make us right again. He’s not perfect.
But he’s perfect for me.
He made mistakes and I made them too. But when we’re together we’re good for each other. He makes me feel special. He lifts me up and makes me believe that I have the strength to do what is right by my son and this baby.

“I love you. I don’t care what you did.” I lightly stroke the side of his cheek, running my fingers over the three-day stubble. “It’s over with me and Gary.” I kiss his cheek, then whisper, “You’re it.”

He rubs the back of my neck and stares deep into my eyes. Conviction. He’s reached some sort of conclusion that he’s serious about.

“He won’t take Ben.” His kisses along my neck, my cheek, and finally my mouth.

My stomach flutters and my heart gallops.

“I promise.” He holds me in his strong, protective embrace and everything inside me melts.

God, I’ve missed that feeling of comfort. His hands run down my collarbone to the mounds of my breasts. 

“Ouch!” A sharp, swift kick to my ribs reminds me we aren’t alone.

Morgan quirks a brow.

I grab his hand and place it where she won’t stop kicking.

Morgan smiles. “You know, Logan played football in high school. Wonder if it runs in the family?”

I laugh. “She’s a girl.” He doesn’t know that because we were fighting.

“I know.”

He knows?

He smiles and pulls at his lip ring with his teeth. “Ben told me. And before you get mad at him, it was my fault. I interrogated him.”

“He really loves you. He was so pissed at me when we broke up.” My face falls. “He’s still mad at me.”

Morgan rubs my belly. “He won’t be for long. I’m sorry I was talking to him, but I had to know if you were okay. Every day we were apart, you were all I could think about.”

I brush my lips across his mouth then slip my tongue inside. Warmth floods through me, awakening every cell and destroying all the bad emotions I’ve had. This moment, right here, us all happy and loving, is how I want it to be. I’ve been choking on the negative long enough.

“Okay.” Wiley comes through the door. “Break it up. I want to know how my boy’s doing.”

We pull apart and stare at the ass who just broke our connection. But in all fairness, he’s been worried about Morgan too, and I shouldn’t be monopolizing all of Morgan’s time.

Tryst and the rest of our gang enter into the room, but Tryst stays by the door. “Shay, can I talk to you?”

Part of me is afraid to have this conversation with him, but I know we have to. He has to understand why I did what I did. I need my cousin back in my life. I have Morgan and our growing family, but Tryst has always been there and I want him in our future.