Текст книги "Follow Me Back"

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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“I was just walking by,” I explained.

“You’re not supposed to be interacting with group members,” she stated, as though needing to remind me of what I was and wasn’t supposed to be doing.

When I had first started co-facilitating the support group, I had admired Kristie. She had been eager to help me learn the ropes. But as time wore on I found her to be judgmental and unsympathetic to human failings. Particularly mine.

“I’m not interacting with anyone, Kristie. I was walking home when Twyla and Lisa asked me where I’ve been. I didn’t have a chance to really explain my personal issues,” I said, not able to suppress the thinly veiled sarcasm.

Kristie made a choking noise in the back of her throat that could have been a snort or a cough; I wasn’t really sure. I wanted to roll my eyes but thought better of it. There was no sense in adding more fuel to an already smoldering fire. Kristie shook her head and walked down the steps of the psychology building and started to pass by me. She stopped just before walking away and looked at me over her shoulder.

“Just remember that any infractions will be reported to Dr. Lowell and the Counseling Department. I don’t think either of us wants to be in that position again,” Kristie said, her voice firm and gruff, though I detected a note of regret on her face before she looked away. I opened my mouth to shoot back a response, but changed my mind.

“Have a good evening,” Kristie said tightly, starting to walk away.

Then, as if possessed by the devil, my mouth opened again and words poured out that were the absolute worst I could have said in that moment: “Has Maxx not been coming to group?”

Kristie’s shoulders went rigid, and her dull brown eyes flashed with disapproval. Why oh why had I asked her that question? Where was my common sense when I needed it?

But I couldn’t help it. I needed something . . . anything that would give an indication to Maxx’s whereabouts.

“Aubrey, that is extremely inappropriate for you to ask.” Kristie’s mouth turned down in censure. But my concern for Maxx outweighed any sense of pride or self-preservation.

“I’m not trying to be inappropriate. It’s just, he had an incident a few weeks ago, and I was just worried . . .” I trailed off, feeling like a complete ass.

“I’m more than aware of Maxx’s incident. As to his current treatment, that is none of your business,” Kristie said archly.

“So, he is in treatment?” I couldn’t help but ask, latching on to that tiny shred of information that it was obvious Kristie hadn’t meant to give me. Was that where he had gone? Was that the explanation for his sudden disappearance? And if he had, what did that mean for Maxx? For me? For the ultimatum I had given him?

Kristie shook her head, then turned and walked quickly toward the parking lot. Even though Kristie’s opinion of me shouldn’t have mattered, I felt ashamed as I slowly walked back toward my apartment. Even more, I hated the mad flutter of hope that Kristie’s admission had unleashed.

But I couldn’t ignore it. Old habits die hard, I supposed. Once it had taken root, the thought wouldn’t leave: there was a chance Maxx was out there somewhere, doing the very thing I had wanted him to. Putting himself back together.

My steps quickened and I broke into a sprint.

My words to Maxx during that last fateful phone call weeks before flashed wildly through my frantic brain: Get your shit together, Maxx. And do it for yourself, and for no one else. And then maybe I can learn to trust you again, trust myself to be with you.

If Maxx was in rehab, that meant he had heard me. He had taken what I said and decided to live it.

What did that mean?

Why did it have to mean anything?

Suddenly I was running hard and fast, as though chased by the thoughts that seemed to dog my steps.

I burst through the door of my apartment, my face flushed, my breathing erratic. I needed the calm of my own space in order to sort out my spinning thoughts.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Brooks asked, coming from the kitchen.

I frowned. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean to sound rude. But I couldn’t deal with Brooks. Not now. Not with uneasy questions about Maxx on my mind.

Renee appeared behind him, a bag of carrot sticks and a jar of dip in her hands. She took one look at my face and knew something was up.

“Okay, well, can we rain-check on the movie, Brooks? I can tell Aubrey isn’t really up to it. You look exhausted, sweetie,” Renee cooed, dropping the carrots and dip on the coffee table and crossing the room to where I was standing, feeling completely overwhelmed.

Brooks peered at me in his analytical way. “What happened, Aubrey?” he asked, thankfully keeping his distance. I knew I couldn’t handle any physical contact from him right now.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Just extremely tired. I’m not really in the mood for company right now, Brooks. No offense,” I said, grimacing.

Brooks looked as though he wanted to argue with me, but he grabbed his car keys, and with a strained smile, walked out the door with a promise to call me later.

“Okay, the testosterone is gone, now tell me what the hell happened to make you look as though you have seen a ghost,” Renee demanded, taking me by the arm and leading me to the couch.

I covered my face with my hands. “It’s so freaking stupid,” I groaned, feeling silly for my over-the-top reaction. “I ran into some people from the support group,” I began.

“That had to have been awkward,” Renee deduced, and I nodded.

“Yeah, it wasn’t what you would describe as . . . comfortable,” I admitted, biting my bottom lip. “Then Kristie came out and pretty much chewed me a new one for ‘interacting’ with the group members,” I said, rolling my eyes. I was happy to feel anger replacing embarrassment.

“That’s ridiculous! It’s not like you were hanging out with them or anything,” Renee reasoned, and I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

“I know,” I said quietly.

Renee sighed. “But that’s not why you look like that. What else happened?” she asked.

I ran my hands through my long blond hair, pulling slightly until I felt a sharp tug at my scalp. Somehow the bite of pain cleared my head.

“I think Maxx went to rehab,” I said finally after a period of silence.

Renee didn’t say anything. She dropped her eyes to her hands, which were folded in her lap.

“He hasn’t been back to the support group since being in the hospital,” I continued in a whisper.

“So . . .” Renee began.

“And he hasn’t been home in weeks,” I said in a rush, not making eye contact with my friend.

Renee frowned. “And you would know that how?”

“Because I went to his apartment,” I told her quietly, my face suddenly hot.

I sounded like a stalker.

Or worse . . . an absolute idiot.

Renee cleared her throat and thankfully chose not to address my mortified confession.

“So you think that because he’s not in group and hasn’t been home that he’s in rehab? There are other possibilities, you know, Aubrey. Possibilities that are just as likely and not so pink and rosy,” Renee pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. But it was something Kristie said. Something about Maxx’s treatment not being any of my business.”

“And she’s right,” Renee replied gently.

“No! Don’t you get it! If it’s not my business, then that means he’s in treatment! He’s doing the very thing I wanted him to!” My voice rose, and frustrated tears stung my eyes.

I was getting entirely too worked up, and I knew it. Renee shook her head. “So what if he’s in rehab? What would that change?”

“Everything,” I let out on a breath, admitting the thing that I would never be able to voice to anyone else.

Renee frowned again, two thin lines forming between her eyebrows. “How does Maxx being in rehab change anything, Aubrey?”

I twisted my fingers together over and over, not sure I could admit what lay in my heart.

“I don’t know!” I agonized, covering my face with my hands. I was confused. I was angry. I was irritatingly hopeful.

I was a freaking mess.

Renee gently pulled my hands away from my face and gave them a squeeze. The naked sympathy on her face curdled my gut. I knew what she was thinking.

That I was dancing back toward that place I had only just left behind. That seeing me losing my head over the man I had sworn to have nothing to do with only proved how incapable I was of letting him go.

Was she right?

Damn it, yes, she was.

“What if I told you Devon was getting help for his anger? That he was in counseling? Would that automatically erase all of the things he did to me? Does it change the fact that together, we were dysfunctional and unhealthy?” Renee asked quietly.

“The situations are completely different,” I countered sharply. Why was I being so defensive? What was I trying to convince her of ? Or was I trying to convince myself that hearing the news that Maxx might be in rehab could quite possibly open that door again.

What was wrong with me?

“Are they? Because three months ago, I know what your answer would have been. You would never have let me hold on to the unrealistic possibility that the man who hurt me so badly would change. This isn’t a romance novel, Aubrey. Love can’t make things all better. No matter how much we want it to.” Renee’s face was wet and her lips quivered.

“You spent the last year watching me lose myself in a relationship that almost destroyed me. I didn’t see the damage my love for Devon was inflicting. But now that I’m on the other side of it, it’s easy to see those same mistakes in someone else. Aubrey, Maxx loves you. I have no doubt. But he is not someone you can depend on. At least not right now. You made the right choice when you walked away. You almost lost everything, and now your focus needs to be on you and fixing what went wrong in your life.”

I needed her realism. Her heavy dose of common sense. It was the medicine I had to swallow no matter how bitter the taste.

“Don’t think about Maxx and what he’s doing. You can’t. You have to think only about you,” Renee said firmly.

I knew she was right. Of course she was. But I had to admit that it still hurt to hear. And it didn’t dissolve the shame I felt for allowing myself, for one brief, insane moment, to fall back into the chaos only Maxx could create.

I thought about how out of control I had felt as I watched Maxx lose himself to the drugs. I had isolated myself by being so wrapped up in his dysfunction. But I had been happy to drown in him, because he was all that I wanted.

And look where it got me. I wouldn’t be that girl again. I needed a decisive break. I knew, deep down, that I had been holding on to the painful hope that Maxx would come back a changed man and sweep me off my feet.

It suddenly hit me that I had been waiting for the crumbs of confirmation that Maxx was getting help. I had been inadvertently living in a delusional fairy tale with a warped happily-ever-after. But what I really needed was to let him go before I lost myself all over again. I grabbed my keys and rattled them in my hand, feeling agitated.

“I need to get out of here for a bit. Clear my head. I’ll be back later,” I explained, not making eye contact.

I needed to get my head together. To cleanse Maxx from my system before I suffocated.

“Do you want some company?” she asked, getting to her feet.

I shook my head.

“I’ll be fine. I just have some processing to do,” I told her.

Renee’s lips twitched into a shadow of a smile. She was upset for me, and I wished I could tell her she needn’t be. That I would be all right.

“Is that your clinical opinion?” she joked.

“Absolutely,” I said softly.

I couldn’t tell her I was all right. But I would be able to soon.

I would make sure of it.

chapter

five

aubrey

ever since I had gotten my driver’s license, taking to the open road had been my surefire way of getting myself together. Whether it was a bad grade, a fight with a friend, or dealing with the death of my much-loved younger sister, I would get behind the wheel of my car and drive for hours. Often with no particular destination in mind.

I took the unfamiliar curves of the backcountry road with ease. I loved the feel of the cold wind whipping through my hair, my music blasting through the speakers. My mind wandering to the topics that were at any other time off-limits. My parents. Jayme.

“Come on, Aubrey! Let me come with you!” Jayme wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me, a clear attempt at manipulation that she knew I could never refuse.

I had just gotten my license earlier in the day, and as a reward Dad had given me the keys to his car, saying that I could go take a ride around town. I was excited. This would be my first time in the car without one of my parents. I felt like such a grown-up. I was taking that first, decisive step toward adulthood. I was buzzing on it. And Jayme was just as excited about my new license as I was. We had always celebrated in each other’s successes, and this was no different. Though I knew it had just as much to do with the fact that her days of riding the bus to school were now over.

I grinned at my baby sister, never able to deny her anything. I wagged my finger in her face. “If you want to ride in the car with me, there will be rules, Jay,” I warned teasingly.

Jayme rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, no R and B or rap, I got it,” she said, beating me to the punch. Our differing music tastes was one of the few points of contention between us.

I chuckled. “Okay, well, as long as we’re clear about that.”

“Woo-hoo! Let’s go! Maybe we can stop for ice cream!” Jayme squealed, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me out the door.

I found myself smiling at the memory. The awaiting ache of grief was ever present, but it couldn’t erase the joy that I felt at remembering my sister. It felt amazing. I found that I didn’t want to force myself to forget about Jayme. I wanted to remember her. And the hole in my heart began to mend . . . just a little bit.

Then I thought of Maxx. The joy disappeared, and the hole in my chest ripped open all over again. I tried to shift my thoughts to the dark side of Maxx, to the club. To the addiction that owned him. It was important to remind myself that letting him back in was dangerous.

Compulsion had been a fixture in the underground club scene since the midnineties. The stories and rumors about it had become the stuff of urban legend. The main allure was the sense of mystery—it was never in the same location twice.

And that is where Maxx had come in. When I was first introduced to the club scene months before, I hadn’t realized that Maxx was the mysterious “X,” whose intricate street art left randomly all over the city provided the clues to the club’s location each weekend.

Find the art, and you find Compulsion. The details were wrapped within the painting that was unlike anything I had ever seen. Maxx’s alter ego had created a reputation for himself, not only with his intense artwork but as the man to see if you were looking for a particular type of diversion.

And while he was slinging drugs and defacing buildings, I had been completely oblivious that my Maxx was actually the dangerous and volatile X.

Until it was too late and my heart was so ensnared there was no turning back. But Compulsion had given me something I hadn’t known I had been looking for . . . an escape.

And suddenly, I knew that’s where I needed to go.

I just had to find out where the infamous club was located tonight. And it hit me that finding the picture would not only lead me to Compulsion, it could quite possibly answer the question that was eating away at my insides.

I needed to know if Maxx was still around, doing the same things I had left him for.

I needed closure, and hoped that the answers would finally allow me to move on once and for all, whatever those answers were.

I started driving around aimlessly, looking into the darkened alleyways and on the sides of buildings, trying to find the elusive X’s handiwork.

After almost an hour I was close to giving up. The knot in my stomach hadn’t eased, but I was forced to admit that it looked as though I wasn’t going to find what I sought.

I pulled into a gas station to fill up my car. I had been driving long enough that I was dangerously low on fuel. I twisted the gas cap and lifted the nozzle off the lever.

“Here,” a guy said, shoving a flyer into my hands before walking away to stick the papers in his hand under windshields.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, crumpling the waste of trees in my hand. The bright colors and manic writing caught my attention before I could throw it away. I smoothed out the flyer on the hood of my car and could have laughed at the irony of this moment.

The word Compulsion arched over the top of a reproduction of one of Maxx’s more elaborate paintings. At the bottom was an address that wasn’t too far from where I was.

I had never seen the club distribute flyers before. That meant Maxx wasn’t painting his pictures.

I thought about calling Renee, just to tell her what I planned on doing. I almost wanted someone to talk me off the ledge. To tell me that going to the club, the place where Maxx has indulged in the darkest parts of himself, was the dumbest thing I could do.

But instead I stuck the flyer on my dashboard and headed toward an unknowable future.

I ended up at the old Longwood Residential Center, which used to be a nursing home almost thirty years ago. The sprawling, rambling buildings were derelict and falling down in places. It looked condemned, which is why this location was perfect for the club.

I was surprised by how close it was to the center of town. It was a bit more conspicuous than was usual for the underground scene. I got out of my car and was hit by a wave of déjà vu. The pounding bass could be heard in the distance. The dizzying wave of energy seemed to emanate from the building ahead of me.

Groups of people moved forward, beckoned by the siren’s call of madness and illusion that Compulsion promised. I felt a momentary apprehension and thought briefly about getting back into my car and heading home. But I also felt the pull of the music. Of the knowledge that what lay inside was unlike anything I’d experience anywhere else. Though knowing how easy it would be to surrender myself didn’t provide the comfort it once had. But I was powerless against it all the same.

The line wove in and out of the trees as one by one people were admitted or denied entry. The usual extremes were out in force, from the woman who seemed to be wearing plastic wrap and a bow tie, to the guy with his entire face covered in tattoos. Each person had done all they could to make it seem like they belonged. Because that’s exactly what they were searching for.

Belonging.

I looked down at my woefully inferior club attire and almost laughed. Once again, here I was, waiting to be let inside and dressed like a walking, talking J.Crew catalogue.

But I joined the line anyway and waited my turn. I recognized Randy, the bouncer, and Marco, Maxx’s friend taking money at the door. I only hoped one or both recognized me. Though I couldn’t count on that. They encountered hundreds of people every night, and my interactions with Marco had been brief. I seriously doubted they’d remember me.

I rolled the hem of my shirt, knotting it between my fingers in my sudden bout of nervousness. Why did I think this was a good idea?

“Are you for real?” Randy barked, pulling me out of my thoughts. I blinked, a little confused by his antagonism.

“Excuse me?” I squeaked out.

Randy pointed at my gender-neutral ensemble. “You can’t come in wearing that shit,” he growled, the words getting lost in the growth of his beard.

“Let her in. I need to talk to her,” Marco cut in, stepping in front of Randy and waving me past.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, looking up at Marco. I offered a smile, which died a sad little death as I took in the irritation on his face. Was that directed at me? What had I done?

“Cover for me for a few minutes,” he told Randy, who only nodded. Marco looked back down at me, his eyes hooded in the darkness, the metal in his lip and eyebrow gleaming in the dismal lighting. He didn’t just look irritated. He looked pissed.

And more than a little scary.

He wrapped his hand around my upper arm and all but dragged me into the club. The music jarred my bones as I was pushed into a dark alcove off from the dance floor.

I tried to wiggle free of Marco’s pincerlike grasp, but he wasn’t letting go.

“You’re hurting me!” I protested, straining to be heard over the thumping bass.

“Where is he?” Marco shouted in my face.

His question caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked.

“X, or Maxx, whatever he’s calling himself. Where the fuck is he? There are people, serious people, who are looking for him.” Marco glowered at me, as if I was the one responsible for Maxx’s MIA status.

“How would I know?” I argued, though Marco’s questions gave me some of the confirmation I had been looking for.

Maxx wasn’t here. He hadn’t been in some time.

And even though it still didn’t answer the question of where he had gone, I could at least be comforted in the knowledge that he hadn’t gone back to this.

Marco gave my arm a little shake. “Because he’s been stuck up your ass for months. I knew he was pulling back because of you. I know the signs of pussy-whipped when I see it. Now, where the hell did that little fuck disappear to?”

Remembering some old-school self-defense, I stepped on Marco’s foot and gave him a hearty shove in the center of his chest, causing him to fall backward and let go of my arm.

I rubbed the throbbing skin and took a few steps away from him.

“Don’t ever grab me like that again! I don’t know where the hell Maxx is!” I seethed, wincing as my fingers ran over obviously bruised flesh. But clearly my indignation overruled my fear of this scary-looking man.

Gazing around, I didn’t experience the energetic rush that I used to have. Compulsion wasn’t the mysterious and seductive world it had once been. I didn’t care about the pounding beat or the promise of surrender that lay beyond me.

Instead, the place just seemed dark and terrifying. Without Maxx, without his enigmatic but constant presence, it felt cold and lonely. The people swaying to the frantic beat looked desperate and delusional. This place was a lie that they couldn’t see.

It wasn’t an escape. It was a trap. Because none of it was real.

This was the mask that hid an ugly reality. One that had almost killed Maxx.

One that had almost destroyed me.

Marco advanced on me and once again invaded my personal space. “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole here. I’m just the guy trying to keep your boyfriend in one piece. Because I can tell you, if he doesn’t show up soon, there are certain individuals who would like nothing better than to mess up that pretty face of his,” Marco warned, and I was relieved when he didn’t touch me again.

I pressed myself against the brick, wondering about the chances I had if I kneed him in the balls and ran for it.

Marco braced one hand on the wall beside my head and leaned in close. I could smell the stale cigarettes and mint gum on his breath. It made me faintly nauseous.

“I’ve watched his back for years. And what do I get for it? My ass in a sling. You tell him he owes me. More than he realizes,” Marco said in a low voice. I felt a shiver of alarm.

Marco brushed my hair away from my neck and leaned in close. “He’s put a lot on the line for you. I hope you’re fucking worth it,” he whispered before pushing himself away from the wall.

I stood paralyzed in the darkened corner. Coming to Compulsion had been a very bad idea.

My feet wouldn’t move. I was trembling so badly that I thought I’d fall over. Finally, after I was able to walk without wobbling, I inched my way into the large, open room where the club was in full swing. The lights flashed madly, creating a strobe effect. It made me feel as though I were walking in slow motion.

My eyes scanned the crowd, but I didn’t recognize anyone.

I didn’t feel like dancing. I didn’t feel like getting lost in the throng of moving bodies that pressed around me.

I was done with the whole damn thing.

The mystique of this world was lost on me now that I saw it for what it really was. And in some small way and in spite of my run-in with Marco, it made the entire trip out here worth it.

The tantalizing taste of closure was there, just within reach. And I finally felt strong enough to grab it.

And it was time for me to get the hell out of there.

Before I could make my way through the crowd, someone knocked into me. I lurched forward, my hands coming out in front of me as I collided with the very hard floor.

And just like the first time I had come to Compulsion, I feared that I was two seconds away from being trampled to death.

I was grabbed rather viciously by the arm and yanked to my feet. A far cry from the gentle hands that had helped me once before.

I fumbled to find my footing and then was brutally pushed. I stumbled again and would have fallen if not for my renewed sense of balance. I peered into the murky darkness and recoiled when I caught sight of the last people I ever wanted to see.

April and Evan, the maladjusted couple from the addictions support group, stared back at me. April half smirking, half guilty. Evan sneering and hateful.

I started to back away, not wanting any sort of confrontation, but found that I was boxed in by swaying dancers.

“All alone tonight, huh?” Evan shouted, the light flickering in his soulless eyes. His hand was wrapped around his girlfriend’s wrist like an iron snare.

“What?” I asked, realizing I was saying that a lot this evening. I felt the prickling of instinct telling me to run. Evan gave off the aura of someone who delighted in hurting others. And for some reason, since day one, he had taken a particular dislike to me.

Evan let go of April and leaned in close. I tried to back away, but was again met by a wall of bodies. “Your boyfriend, Maxx. Where is he? I haven’t seen him around for a while, and I have some business to take care of with him.” I blinked in shock. Did everyone have freaking business with Maxx? He sure did get around.

And then I realized exactly what Evan was asking me.

Shit.

He knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I denied, shouting over the music. Evan bent his head until his lips were right next to my ear, and I shuddered in revulsion.

“I knew you were nothing but a slut. You should have thought about who you were spreading those pretty legs for. A lot of bad shit can happen if you’re not careful. But you’ve already figured that out, haven’t you? People just aren’t very understanding when it comes to certain relationships.”

I reared back as if Evan had hit me. He watched me with a sadistic joy, licking his lips and leering at me.

April had disappeared into the crowd, and I felt as though I was alone with Evan, even though we were surrounded.

Realization dawned on me. And I knew exactly who had told Kristie about Maxx and me. And it wasn’t Brooks. I had been wrong about that one.

“Watch your back, bitch. I’ve got your number.” Evan hurled his words like a weapon, every syllable a clear and undeniable threat.

Using my elbows, I pushed my way through the crowd even harder. Without slowing down, I ran all the way back to my car, not sure I had gotten the closure I was looking for.