Текст книги "Follow Me Back"

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

chapter

sixteen

maxx

some mornings I would wake up and the first thing I’d think about, even before my eyes had a chance to open, was drugs.

What it felt like to be stoned. Where I could get them if I really wanted them. Who I had to call to score as soon as possible. How soon it would be until I was so fucking high I thought I’d never come down again.

Then I’d get up and start my day, and those brief instances of exhilaration, thinking about my long-lost love, would evaporate under the weight of my new life. And I’d start feeling depressed. These were dark times, when I thought about the person I was before I had gone into rehab and how far I was from the confident, self-assured man I had thought I was. For some odd reason I couldn’t conjure up the bad and horrible about the person I used to be.

All I could remember in those bleak moments was how I had felt on top of the world. My body craved that feeling again. The physical addiction had subsided in the weeks since I had last used. What I fought against now, every second of every day, was all in my fucking head.

It was the memory that was the danger now. Everything was a trigger. Everything reminded me of what it was like when I was high. At times, particularly when I was alone, with only my wretched self for company, it was almost impossible to ignore the cravings.

With Marco continuing to blow up my phone the temptation was tantalizingly close. So I kept myself as busy as possible. Not being in school made that hard, but I filled my hours with legal things. Because Maxx Demelo had officially turned over a new leaf.

I had gone to the meeting with Leah Fletcher, who had walked me through the process of applying for some grants for “disadvantaged students.” She had me complete new paperwork and was able to scrounge up enough government aid to cover tuition for next semester. That would be enough time, if I busted my ass, to finish my degree.

But I still needed money to live. Pay bills. Keep a roof over my head. Food in my stomach. All of those necessities that were essential in order to stay alive so I could graduate. It would be such an easy fix to call Gash and jump back into the club and my role there. The money was good, the adrenaline rush was even better.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

So I had entered the world of the gainfully yet miserably employed. When I wasn’t shoveling horseshit at the stables just outside of town—a job I found on Craigslist—I was burning off my skin at the local coffee shop. The whole thing really sucked.

But I’d stick it out. I had to. Though one thing was for sure, walking the straight and narrow was much harder than I ever thought it would be.

In my efforts to be Maxx Demelo, Recovering Addict, there was one thing I still hadn’t done: go downtown to make an intake appointment for my outpatient counseling. I knew that I needed to. I had a meeting with my probation officer next week and it was important I show that I was continuing with treatment.

He had known I was in rehab but not that I’d almost died on a bathroom floor from a drug overdose. If he had been privy to that knowledge, I wouldn’t be sitting here on the outside. I’d be sitting in a jail cell feeling pretty damn sorry for myself.

It was Saturday morning and I woke up with four hours to kill before I had to be out at the horse stables. Kenny Wyatt, who ran the place, hadn’t been exactly impressed with my lack of general horse knowledge when I had called him up and asked him about the job. Luckily the horrible pay and even worse duties didn’t make “stable hand” very popular for those seeking employment. Kenny had hired me on the spot, though he was less than pleased about it.

There was nothing less attractive than coming home smelling like you had spent the day rolling around in manure. Feeling restless and unwilling to sit around my apartment chewing on my nails, I grabbed my car keys and headed out, no real destination in mind.

It was a sunny day and the streets were busy. My car petered along, clunking noisily. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw black smoke billowing out from the back.

I wished I had somewhere to go. I felt displaced and isolated. The only real connections I had ever had were with people who now wanted nothing to do with me. I picked up my phone but then dropped it again, knowing that I had no one to call. I felt a sharp pain in my chest that was a lot like loneliness. A memory resurfaced unbidden.

“I hate living here, Maxx.” Landon’s voice was small and timid. We had only been living with our uncle David for a few weeks, but I could already tell it was not going to be a good situation. Two hours after dropping us off at his house, he had left, with no indication of where he was going.

He had been gone for three days.

When he came back, he reeked of stale booze and looked as though he hadn’t showered in a month. He hadn’t acknowledged either of us and had instead gone to his room, where he proceeded to sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

This was our life now. But at least I had Landon. And he had me.

He was the only thing in my stupid, messed-up life that made me feel good. Even if the responsibility of taking care of him felt like a noose around my neck sometimes.

I threw my arm around Landon’s shoulders. “Yeah, me, too, buddy, but we’ve got each other. We’ll be all right,” I promised, meaning it.

Landon was small for his age and barely came up to my shoulder. He was a clingy kid who followed me around everywhere. A normal teenage brother would have been annoyed by his tagalong brother. But we weren’t normal.

“Okay, Maxx,” Landon replied.

I knew he missed our dad . Even though he hadn’t been the best parent at the end, he was still the only parent Landon had ever known. He didn’t remember Mom. And I hated that.

Now I was the only parental figure that he had.

“You wanna learn how to check the oil in a car?” I asked, wanting to distract the poor kid from our shitty life.

Landon’s face brightened considerably. “Yeah!” he enthused, eager to spend time with his big brother.

“Come on, then, let’s go out in the garage. Dad’s old Mustang is out there.”

Just as I was about to get up, Landon wrapped his skinny arms around me and squeezed. “You’re the best brother ever, Maxx,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed himself into my chest. I stiffened for a moment but I didn’t pull away.

I hugged him back, not caring that I looked like a total pussy for embracing my brother.

He needed the affection.

I did , too.

I shook my head, clearing my mind of the memory.

I missed Landon. I missed the relationship we used to have. I needed him back in my life.

So I turned down a side street and started to pass familiar houses. I pulled up in front of the one-level brick house where I had spent my bleak formative years, and killed the engine.

I hadn’t called Landon since leaving rehab, knowing that what I had to say was better said in person. Though I was terrified that the kid who I had practically raised wouldn’t want anything to do with me.

I was sweating bullets, which wasn’t like me at all. Well, it wasn’t like the old me, anyway. This new me seemed to get freaked out over everything.

I walked up on the porch and put my hand on the doorknob and then thought better of it. Ringing the doorbell, I stood back and waited.

Landon appeared after only a few seconds and looked irritated at seeing me standing there.

“You’re out, I guess,” he said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest like the teenager he was.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, I am.”

“I thought you’d call,” my brother said bitterly.

“I would have if I thought you would have answered,” I threw back.

Landon rolled his eyes.

“So are we going to have this conversation out here or can I come inside?” I asked.

“David’ll probably be back soon, so maybe another time.” Landon started to close the door and I stuck my foot out, wedging it in the jamb.

“Look, Landon, I know you’re pissed at me, but there are things I need to say, that you need to hear. I fucked up, buddy. Big-time. Give me a chance to make it right.”

I saw Landon waver and he dropped his eyes. “Okay. But not for long. I’ve got stuff to do.”

I wanted to laugh at his petulance, but I knew that would be a bad move, given the state of our relationship.

“Not a problem.” I walked into my uncle’s house and for the first time I didn’t feel angry and resentful toward the man who had begrudgingly taken us in after our dad’s death. What was the point in wasting the energy to hate him? It hurt me more than it hurt him. And I couldn’t focus on that sort of bullshit. Not now when I was trying to make the people I cared about see how much I had changed.

And holding on to bad blood kept me stuck. And stuck was not something I wanted to be.

“Can I get something to drink?” I asked, noting how unchanged everything was. The same green-and-tan sofa that had been there for the last decade was pushed against the wall. The stained rug that had been my grandparents’ laid haphazardly on the floor.

“Yeah, you know where everything is,” Landon said, sitting down on the couch and turning up the volume on the television. He wasn’t going to make things easy, that’s for sure.

I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, surprised to see that it was full of food. I checked the cabinets and found that they, too, were full. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the tap and returned to the living room.

“You doing the grocery shopping now?” I asked.

Landon didn’t bother to look at me as he answered, his eyes still trained on the cartoon that played on the screen. “Nah. David’s been home a lot more. He got a job at the county office building doing maintenance.”

“Are you shitting me? Is he on something?” I asked, hardly able to believe that David had turned over a new leaf. Though if I was capable of change, why not my dickhead uncle?

“No, I think that’s your thing, not his,” Landon said blandly.

“Okay, I deserved that,” I stated.

Landon flipped the channel, still not looking at me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take your calls while you were gone,” Landon said gruffly, as though the apology was cutting into his throat.

“You don’t need to apologize. I get it,” I told him.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Landon said, his voice rising.

“Seriously, I do. I know you’re upset with me—”

“Maxx, stop it. Just listen to me. For once.” He threw the remote onto the coffee table and finally turned to look at me. Sometimes he reminded me so much of our dad. They had the same sandy-colored hair and pronounced jaw. And even though Landon was young when our father died, he had somehow adopted so many of his mannerisms that it was sometimes unsettling. Like the way his eyes flashed and his jaw ticked when he was pissed off.

Even though I was on the receiving end of my brother’s ire, I was glad to hear the strength in his tone. He had finally grown a pair.

“Okay,” I said.

Landon clenched his hands into fists, and two red splotches spread across his cheeks. I felt tense, with no idea what was coming next.

“I . . . I can’t believe how much you lied to me. You’re . . . you’re such a hypocrite . . . this whole time you’ve just been this . . . this drug addict.” He spat the words at me like they were dirty.

“You were the only person in my life I knew would always be straight with me. No matter what. But I can’t ever trust anything you say again. You’re just a big, fat liar.”

I felt wounded. He didn’t get it, didn’t understand that things weren’t so black and white. Suddenly I was pissed that he was attacking me like this. How quickly he forgot that I was the one who had always made sure he had dinner. I was the one who had always gotten him up for school and made him do his homework. Yeah, I had fucked up. Big-time. But that didn’t negate the years of bullshit I went through making sure he was taken care of.

“Now, hang on a sec. I know that I let you down. I get that you feel betrayed. But don’t for one second think that lying to you was easy. And everything I did was for you. You could be a little more fucking grateful,” I snapped, feeling my patience for his surly attitude hanging by a thread.

Landon gave an incredulous snort that made me want to hit something. “So this is my fault? That’s messed up, Maxx, even for you,” he scoffed.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

“What if you’d died, Maxx?”

My angry defensiveness fizzled out. Landon looked stricken, and I felt like an ass for trying to defend myself at all. Talk about a fucking punch to the gut.

Shit. He was right.

I had almost died. Then where would Landon have been?

I was a fucking hypocrite. I was so damn selfish.

“Landon. I . . . I thought I had everything tight and controlled. I was such an idiot. I didn’t really think about what I was doing to you. Because, honestly, I didn’t even know what I was doing to myself.”

“What about Aubrey? How about what you did to her?” Landon asked, and my heart stopped and then started up again painfully.

“Yeah, I messed up with Aubrey, too,” I admitted, feeling weird talking about my girl problems with my kid brother.

“So I’m guessing she dropped you on your ass?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I argued, though that’s exactly what had happened. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t prepared for a conversation like this with Landon, of all people.

“Look, Landon . . . I get that you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. But you’re my brother. We’ve got to work this stuff out. I’m trying really hard here. I just want you to see that.” Landon refused to look at me.

“I’m working at the coffee shop on campus. Landon . . . I’m making fucking coffee! That should tell you how serious I am to do things right,” I said.

Landon’s lips quirked. Just the slightest movement, but it was something. “You could come by sometime and I’ll make you a latte or some froufrou shit.” I was trying to be funny, but it sounded pretty strained.

My brother snorted. “If you make coffee like you cook, I think I’ll pass.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad. I’ve almost figured out how to use the espresso machine without burning myself,” I joked, my laugh sounding rusty and unused.

Landon’s face softened. Just a bit. “Seeing you in that hospital sucked, Maxx. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared,” he admitted gruffly. I knew talking about feelings wasn’t something he liked to do, being a teenage boy and all.

“I know, man. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I was . . . I am . . . an addict.” It hurt to admit that out loud. To confirm the words he’d spat in my face, to confirm what I had denied for so long. And to my brother. The one person I had tried so hard to hide it from.

But I also felt relieved that finally, after all this time, I could admit it. Own it. Move on from it.

“So you’ve stopped, then?” Landon’s voice sounded small and it reminded me how young he really was. It reminded me of that little kid I had taken care of all those years ago.

“Yes, God, yes. But I can’t lie and say I don’t want to. Because I do. All the time. But I’m going to fight against it. Because you deserve better from me, Landon.”

Landon nodded and turned back to the television. I didn’t say anything else, not sure if I should stay or leave. Landon wasn’t giving me much to go on.

When his show was over, Landon got to his feet and I figured that was my cue to go. I was disappointed that things felt so unfinished. I couldn’t tell if Landon was willing to forgive me or not. I didn’t know if this was it. Whether I’d lost my brother for good.

Landon started to walk out of the room and then stopped, not quite turning back to me. “You wanna help me change the oil in the ’stang?” he asked, his tone noncommittal.

I felt something that was a lot like hope spark inside me. “Sure, buddy. I’d like that,” I told him, getting to my feet and following him out to the garage.

chapter

seventeen

aubrey

as far as weeks could go, I’d had better. I had been working hard to keep my nose down and focus on my schoolwork, staying late on campus to study. I went to class and then I went home, not lingering too long in between. I had to limit the chances of a run-in that would only leave me bruised and wanting.

I was walking home from class that particular afternoon, thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time. I was trying to concentrate on the stuff that mattered. School. Getting back into the counseling program. My friendships with Renee and Brooks. Anything but Maxx Demelo.

I had my eyes trained to the ground, moving quickly. I started up the steps to my apartment building, when a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I paused and turned and then wished instantly that I hadn’t.

Tucked into the shadowed alcove between my apartment building and the shop next door were two people locked in a passionate embrace. The man had the woman pressed against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulders as he held her tightly.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist without once breaking the kiss that was consuming them both. My stomach rolled and I felt an inexplicable guilt as I watched the scene in front of me. Ugly emotions surfaced about my own warring emotions about Maxx.

I watched my roommate run her fingers through Devon Keeton’s short red hair and for a moment, I hated her for not being stronger. For falling right along with me. Because clearly I wasn’t the only one who was tempted to open a door that was better off left closed.

I turned my back on Renee and her ex-boyfriend and walked inside.

Renee breezed into the apartment half an hour later, a mess of hair and frenetic energy. Even if I hadn’t seen her in the alley with douchebag Devon, I would have instantly known something was up. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, and her hands shook when she turned the lock in the door.

“Hey,” I said, going for blandly neutral.

“Hey,” Renee said back, not quite meeting my eyes like the guilty girl she was.

“Where’ve you been?” I asked, digging a bit for information, testing the waters to see whether she’d be honest and forthright.

It seemed my dear roommate and best friend opted for a renewed relationship with dishonesty and distance.

“Library,” she responded vaguely.

“Really. Did you get a lot of reading done?” Reading being a euphemism for dirty, wrong spit swapping.

“Yeah, I’m going to nail that microbiology test tomorrow,” she said, and if I hadn’t known she was lying I would have been fooled. She was that convincing.

“Or nail something else,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking flustered.

“I saw you,” I said.

I had to give my friend credit, she played confused well. She tied her disheveled hair up into a ponytail and gave me a bewildered smile. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“With Devon,” I told her, trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt. In her. In me. In our obvious inability to really move on from the person who hurt us so badly.

Renee’s face paled, and she began chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s not what it looked like—”

“Is that why things with Iain didn’t work out? Because of Devon?” I asked, not because I couldn’t believe she would be so stupid, but because I understood her choices all too well.

But that didn’t make them any easier to swallow.

Renee narrowed her eyes. “Don’t, Aubrey,” she warned.

I held my hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m not judging, Renee! I just want to know what’s going on. Talk to me, please,” I begged, desperate for us to not fall back into that horrible place where our friendship used to reside. Full of secrets and mistrust. Laden with tension and false smiles. And all because of the very man I had seen her kissing minutes before.

“I don’t know what’s going on. Just please drop it!” she pleaded, heading back to her bedroom.

I didn’t chase her. I didn’t demand answers. Maybe I should have. But I couldn’t. Not when I could only look at her and see my own failings.

We woke up the next morning and drank our coffee together as if nothing at all had happened. We walked to school and talked about the weather and every other mundane, boring topic we could think of. And for the most part, we were pseudonormal. Except for the unspoken words that lay between us.

Except for the truth.

I walked in the door of my classroom later that day and promptly stopped in my tracks. April, Evan’s emotionally beaten girlfriend from support group, stood in front of the professor’s desk, handing him a slip of paper. She looked up as I came in, her face a mask.

I scurried to my seat and pulled out my textbook, burying my nose into the reading, my earlier feelings of goodwill vanishing quickly. I refused to look up when I saw a pair of ratty sneakers in my peripheral vision walking past and sitting at the desk directly beside me.

I chanced a glance to my left and saw April sitting beside me despite several other available desks around the room, chewing on her thumbnail. I kept reading until the professor started his lecture, ignoring her.

“Do you have an extra pen?”

I practically jumped out of my seat at the sound of the soft, yet husky voice of the frail dark-haired girl I had never heard speak before. “Uh, sure,” I said, not knowing what possessed me to respond to her at all, especially given her involvement with Evan. I dug around in my bag and found another pen and handed it to her. She blew her hair out of her face and gave me a timid smile. It never reached her eyes, and I thought that she looked incredibly sad.

“Thanks, Aubrey,” she whispered, turning back around in her seat. The entire exchange had lasted a whole thirty seconds, but it left me feeling strange.

I had a hard time focusing on the rest of the class. When April leaned over to return my pen, she thanked me sincerely. “I guess I need to be a little more prepared next time.” Her voice startled me again. It was pleasing to listen to. Soft but with a slight rasp. She had been mute the entire time I had facilitated the support group. Even during that one, terrible run-in at Compulsion, she had never uttered a single word, letting her boyfriend do the talking for them both.

I slowly reached out and took the pen from her, tucking it back into my bag. “I didn’t know you were in the counseling program,” I said, not able to help my curiosity about what she was doing in this particular class . . . with me. It felt like too much of a coincidence, given Evan’s threats only weeks before.

April got to her feet and slung a tattered purse over her shoulder. She seemed to be unwilling to make eye contact, choosing to look over my shoulder instead. Her dark hair, which had remnants of purple dye at the tips, looked tangled and slightly unkempt. She gave off the little-girl-lost vibe; not your typical student.

“I’m not. I needed to take some extra classes to fill in the semester and this looked sort of interesting,” she mumbled, and I wasn’t sure I entirely believed her.

“Okay, then. Well, see ya later,” I said, not wanting to prolong any sort of interaction between us. I walked out of the classroom and felt her presence behind me as I left the building.

As I left I saw Evan sitting on the steps, obviously waiting for his girlfriend. He looked up as I walked toward him, and his hateful sneer froze my blood. “Hey, Aubrey,” he said, saying my name like a curse. I looked away, not responding. I heard him laugh, and apprehension curdled inside me.

When I met up with Brooks for our usual morning coffee the next day, I was not in the best mood.

“I recognize that look,” Brooks said, pointing his finger at my face.

I batted his hand away and scowled. “What look? And play nice,” I warned.

Brooks chuckled and held the door open for me. The Coffee Jerk was crowded, which was typical for a weekday. Everyone was looking for the required caffeine to get through the day.

“The look that says you didn’t sleep enough, so tread carefully,” Brooks quipped, getting in line.

“I guess that’s accurate,” I conceded. I was starting to forget what a good night’s sleep felt like.

Brooks slung his arm around my shoulders. “Do I need to come over tonight and make you a cup of chamomile tea and tuck you in?” he cooed sarcastically.

I elbowed him in the gut and he dropped his arm. I smiled at him in a way that was more a baring of teeth. We continued to edge toward the counter. Brooks was talking about a research paper and I half listened. I was tired. I was irritable. And I needed my coffee.

And then I saw him.

Maxx stood behind the counter in a brown Coffee Jerk T-shirt, manning the industrial-sized espresso machine and looking harried.

Why did he have to start working at the only place in town that makes coffee the way that I like?

I was irrationally annoyed. But then I felt a smidgen of something else. Joy? Because at least Maxx was working. He had a job that paid him legal, honest money. He was trying.

My jaw hardened and I instantly stepped out of line and exited the coffee shop without another word. Brooks came after me with a confused look on his face. He had obviously not noticed the new barista on duty.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I only shook my head, not wanting to get into it. Not now when I was feeling edgy.

“Nothing, I just realized I needed to get to class early,” I lied, feeling marginally guilty for not telling Brooks the truth.

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I’ll just see you later, then,” Brooks said, still looking bewildered. I forced a smile and nodded, hurrying to class.

Later in the day I had yet to meet my caffeine quota and things were getting scary. I had practically yelled at the girl sitting in front of me in statistics when she had asked for a pencil.

I knocked over a TA as he came through the door with an armful of papers. I had been charging ahead, full of piss and vinegar and with no attention to those walking around me.

By the end of the day I was a twisty mess of irritation not fit for human company.

Knowing I needed a coffee shot stat, I decided to chance a return trip to the Coffee Jerk. I hoped and prayed that Maxx’s shift would be over by now. I was relieved when I entered and didn’t see him behind the counter. I gave my order to the girl who wasn’t my ex-boyfriend and felt myself relax once I sat in a booth near the back, finally getting my coffee fix.

“Hey,” a deep voice said to my left.

The universe hates me, I thought drolly, quickly followed by a firm, Don’t look up, Aubrey!

I looked up.

Of course I did.

I was nothing if not consistent when it came to Maxx.

“Hey,” I muttered, my mouth turning down at the sight of Maxx, still in his work uniform. His blond hair was disheveled and he looked tired.

“Can I sit down?” he asked, indicating the empty seat across from me.

“It’s a free country, isn’t it?”

Maxx’s jaw stiffened as he slid into the booth opposite me. We sat in awkward silence. I would have laughed at our discomfort if I were in a laughing mood.

“How’s the coffee?” he asked, indicating my now almost-empty mug.

“Coffeelike,” I replied shortly, swallowing the last gulp of my beverage.

“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you,” Maxx said, frowning.

This time I did laugh. But it wasn’t because I found his remark particularly funny.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my standoffishness a problem for you?” I asked, my words icy cold.

Maxx cleared his throat. “That’s not what I meant,” he said softly.

“Well, you can’t expect anything from me, Maxx. You just can’t,” I told him truthfully.

I thought about Renee and Devon in the alleyway outside of our building and felt frigid inside. I looked at the man responsible for my own heartache and felt a hardening inside.

“I know that you think you have to stay away from me because I hurt you. I know you’re trying to build a life without me. But I also know that the only life worth living is the one we can have together.”

He slowly reached across the table and took my hand between his palms and held it.

“I know what you look like when you love. And it’s right here. In your eyes. On your mouth. I look at you and know, without a doubt, that you feel the same way I do.” Maxx ran his thumb along my bottom lip, and I jerked back.

I felt my face flush and pulled my hand from his restraining grasp.

“I’ve got to go,” I muttered, getting to my feet.

“Will you come in tomorrow? I’m working. I can buy you a coffee. I know how much you need your caffeine in the morning,” Maxx said, sounding a little desperate.

I pulled my book bag up onto my shoulder. I wouldn’t look at him.

It would be too easy to give in. I should start avoiding this place. I should ignore him and leave before I did something stupid. So what do I do? I give him the answer that I know I shouldn’t. I found myself saying, “I come in every morning, Maxx. So I guess I’ll see you then.”

I’m not caving, I told myself. I’m just telling him the truth. I do come in for coffee every morning. It didn’t mean anything.

Maxx’s smile was as bright as if I had offered him the moon.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you then.”

It didn’t mean anything! I yelled to myself over and over again.

What a lie. With Maxx, it meant everything.