Edge of Recovery (Love on the Edge) (13 page)

I’d done what I always knew I’d do. I’d fucked up the one good thing I had going for me. Charlie was no longer my sponsor, and for the first time since starting this program, I felt completely and utterly hopeless.

“
W
here you headed
?” I asked Conner as he passed me on my way into the building.

He paused, glancing over my shoulder. “Step eight. My brother flew in.” I nodded as he passed me a smoke. “You look like shit.”

“Feel worse,” I said, stepping outside with him to smoke.

“Charlie didn’t…” he squinted his eyes at the bruises I could feel beneath the raised lumped on my face. “do that to you, did she?

I laughed, the motion shooting slices of pain up my side. “No, you idiot.”

Conner smiled with his cigarette between his teeth and raised his hands. “You never know about them rocker chicks, man.”

The image of Charlie, sexy as fuck in an opened kimono, a pink gun in her hand, both thrilled me and scared the shit out of me at the same time. I didn’t even know she owned a gun, then again, I didn’t know other mundane details of her life either—if she sang in the shower, what kind of take out she liked, or the name of that perfume that made her skin smell edible. Funny how those seemed important now after she’d tossed me on the curb, when before, knowing the darkest parts of herself and how she overcame them was enough for me. She was enough, more than enough, because she pushed me right before yanking me in. Slapped me right before soothing me, tore down my defenses right before she showed me how to build them up.

And I’d betrayed her trust in the biggest way.

Fuck. My. Life.

A yellow taxi pulled up to the curb and Conner crushed his cigarette on his boot. “That’s me.”

“Asshole couldn’t pick you up?” I asked, sucking heat into my lungs.

Conner flipped me off with a smile on his face as he got in the car.

“Good luck,” I said as he shut the door. Finishing my cigarette, I couldn’t believe he was off to make amends just like I had done yesterday, and how much things had changed so quickly. While I was beyond thrilled that Blake had given me a more than gracious pass, I was desperate for Charlie to do the same. I knew it was impossible while I was still under Devlin’s thumb—if she’d even consider it at all.

For the briefest of moments—when I was sure there was no way she’d ever forgive me—I thought about calling a cab for myself and hunting down the nearest liquor store. I could crack open a cheap bottle of vodka, and it would wash away all the shit I’d stirred up in my life. It would slide down my throat, hot and clean and take me away from myself and with each drink, I’d forget about how perfect I’d had it for a few short hours.

The image of Charlie, how she felt above me, how I felt when I kissed her, blasted the craving away. One more shot with her would be worth never taking another drink again in my life. That realization—that I wanted her more than I wanted the sweet release alcohol gave me—made me beyond ready to do whatever it took to become the man she deserved.

Determined, I killed my cigarette and stomped through the place, heading directly for Thomas’ office. Three wraps on his door, and he finally opened up.

“I fucked up,” I blurted out the second he let me in and shut the door behind me.

“Damn right you did,” he said as if we’d already started the conversation.

“Wait, what?” Had Charlie called him?

“It’s half past ten, Justin.” He sank into his chair behind his desk; a bright blue cardigan draped over the back of it.

I rolled my eyes. “Being late is the least of my issues, Doc.”

“That’s an understatement.”

I glared at him. “I’m here, aren’t I? Without boxing gloves, ready to talk, and you wanting to fucking jab at me? Can’t you tell I’ve already had enough of that this morning?”

Thomas sighed, his eyes scanning each damaged part of my face. “What happened?”

I rehashed the story, starting at the beginning where I finally admitted to him my role inside the facility, how it had been in place the day before I left prison. I didn’t hold one ounce of feeling back when confessing how much I cared for Charlie, but I kept our kisses and last night to myself. She didn’t deserve any ounce of backlash for my fuckups, and she was one of the best sponsor resources the facility had to offer.

Once I started, I couldn’t stop, and by the end of the one-sided conversation, I’d admitted just about every damn thing wrong I’d done in last three years. So much poured out of me, like Charlie’s cutting me loose had in fact sliced open my soul and let the festering wounds inside bleed out all around me. It hurt, listing off everything like I was describing someone else entirely—a horrible douche from a bad movie. Then, as I finished, it felt fucking great, a dizzying effect like the first instance a drink hits your bloodstream.

Not that I was thinking about a fucking drink right now.

I was surprised at how calm Thomas looked as he took in every word. He sat silently absorbing my wrongdoings, not even bothering to jot notes on his pad. I didn’t know if it was a good thing or bad thing but either way, I’d done it, and it was the next step in regaining control of the tailspin of my life.

“Was Charlie aware of your
business
the whole time?” he asked once I’d taken a huge breath and stopped talking.

“No,” I said, resting my chin in my hands. I didn’t want to lie to him, but there was no way in hell I’d do anything to mar her reputation. She understood the system way more than Thomas did, knew that sometimes cutting people off cold like the clinic did created more damage than good. “She found out this morning. Hence, her deciding not to be my sponsor anymore.” Saying it out loud was like dragging razors across my skin. Knowing she wouldn’t be there when I felt myself slip was just like jumping off a cliff without a bungee or parachute.

Thomas sighed and leaned back in his chair. “And no one else knows?”

“Outside of my customers? No.” Conner did, but again, it wasn’t fucking relevant.

“We’ll have to find you a new sponsor.”

I raised my eyebrows, opening and closing my mouth several times, shocked he didn’t ask about my client list—which I wouldn’t have given up—or even asked how the drugs were being brought into the place.

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Justin?”

I threw my hands in the air. “You’re the doctor! I’m coming to you for help. I need genuine help,” I said, pressing my hands against my chest. “I have to get out of this before it’s more than me that gets hurt.” I thought about Blake, about the Hulk’s threat so close to being carried out this morning, then I thought about Charlie and how they knew where she lived. Even if Dash could keep Blake safe, and Charlie could hold her own with that gun, I couldn’t stand knowing there was even a need for either of it.

“You want my honest opinion?” he asked, coming around his desk to lean against it in front of me.

“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Keep it up.”

“What?” He might as well have sucker punched me.

“The risk is too great if you pull out now. You only have a few weeks
left in the program. Ride them out, stay clean, get discharged.” He opened his door and motioned his arm for me to leave.

What the fuck?

“And then what?” I asked, completely at odds.

“You won’t have reason to be on site anymore. Surely they’ll move on to someone else.”

I shook my head. “I figured you would’ve suggested making a deal with the D.A. or something.” I hovered in his doorway.

“That would incriminate yourself. Would you really want to do that when you’re so close to achieving and maintaining sobriety?”

That wasn’t news to me but if it meant keeping the girls safe I was more than willing to do it. “You’re sure? That I should just…keep it up?” I used his words, unable to wrap my mind around the notion. I didn’t want to do the job anymore, and more so, I knew they wouldn’t leave me alone once I was out. Even if I wasn’t allowed on site anymore, whoever took my new role as sponsor surely would be. I could still be used as a connection. The threats would remain in place regardless if I left or not.

How could Thomas not see that?

“I’m proud of you for coming to me with this, Justin. It means you’re ready for step eleven. And soon, you’ll be ready to face reality.” He clapped his hand on my back as I left his office.

My stomach churned with acid, worry wrenching me into a barely coherent mess as I made my way back to my room. Maybe Thomas wasn’t the one I should’ve went to for help. For all the advice he offered he hadn’t really told me shit. The situation made something heavy sink in my gut and settle there for the night. I was really, truly on my own in this.

And if
I
was all I had, then perhaps
that
was the solution to my problem.

By the time Conner pounded on my door, well after lights out, I had everything planned and with that, a calm sense of peace settled over me. This was the best course of action, and it would not only solve the Devlin issue, but I’d pay for my part in it as well—just as I deserved.

“What’s up?” I asked Conner as I opened my door and he stormed into my room.

He flicked on the lamp that sat on the table next to my bed.

“Were you asleep?” he asked, his motions frantic as he raked his hands through his hair.

“No, man.” I’d been daydreaming about the future like a school girl. Thinking about what would happen once I’d served my time, thinking about how I’d track down Charlie and try to start fresh. “Are you all right?”

He paced the length of my room. “No. I need something, man. Really fucking bad.”

The floor tilted beneath me, my chest tightening as I stepped closer to him. “Come again?”

“Fuck, man! I need whatever you’ve got. I’m not picky. I just…I can’t fucking stand it in here another second. This cold turkey bullshit. Everything
hurts,
Justin. Like my blood is poison.” He gripped at his chest. “I want to rip everything out because it’s all on fire.”

“Conner.” I grabbed his shoulders to stop him from pacing. “You don’t need that shit. You’re stronger than it. You just need to calm down, bro.”

He cut his eyes to me and in that instant I didn’t recognize the guy I’d befriended on my first day here—this was the junkie I’d never met and always wondered about.

“Did something happen with your brother…Connell?” I asked, pulling his name from a conversation weeks ago.

“Yeah,” he said, the breath leaving him as his shoulders drooped underneath my hands. He sank down on my bed, his head in his hands. “You know how you hated mirrors forever?”

I nodded.

“Well, he’s my fucking mirror. Every disappointment, every piece of hurt I’ve ever caused, all my darkness…it’s written over every inch of his face.” His eyes glittered in the lamplight and I pretended like I didn’t notice. “I wanted to do better for him this time. You know? I really did…but I’m not as strong as him. Never have been.” He bolted upright, digging in his pockets. “I’ve got plenty of money, Justin. Please.” He tried to shove a thick wad of bills in my hands, but I pushed it away.

“I don’t have anything for you,” I said, knowing I couldn’t sell him any of the pills I had hidden in my room. “I’m cleaned out.” I lied, again. Fuck I was really hating having to lie to the people I’d come to call friends lately.

He took the cash, staring at it before shoving it back in his pocket. “You’re out, huh?”

I shrugged. “You don’t need it anyway, Conner. You
are
stronger than your brother.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know that I sure as hell wouldn’t be here as many times as you have, bro. You know how strong that makes you? To continuously recognize your need for help and seek it? Ask for it? You’re better than him, and me…you have no idea. If I fuck up on the outside, I’m not coming back here. I’ll check out. I know it. I don’t have your strength.” I clutched his shoulder forcing him to look me in the eye. “So, just take a breath. Get some sleep. Crank one out if you have to, man, just do whatever it takes to relax. You’ll move past this. You will. And this time…it
will
stick.”

Conner nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “Right. Yeah…Connell, he just threw me. I’ll sleep it off.” He pushed past me, opening my door before pausing with his hand on the knob. “Thanks, Justin. You’ve been a really good friend.”

I pinched my eyebrows together, wondering if my pep talk had opened up a softer side of him. “Do we need to hug this shit out, bro?” I chuckled and breathed a little easier when Conner cracked a smirk.

“Not tonight. I’m still rooting for you and Charlie.” He pressed his lips together and closed the door behind him.

The sense of calm I’d achieved after my brilliant plan evaporated with the tension Conner had left in my room. I burned the energy by gathering all the drugs I had on hand and shoved them under my pillow. I’d need them close in case he decided to come in while I was sleeping—I could sleep through a tornado, as Blake used to say—and while I didn’t think
Conner
would try and rob me, I knew the junkie version of himself would.

I sank onto my bed, laying on the non-lumped side of my pillow, begging for sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, a huge day—the reason I didn’t simply flush my stash—because I would need every last pill I had to present as evidence.

R
aised
voices woke me before my already too-early-set alarm. Dawn had barely broken through the cheap blinds in my room, and I slammed my palms into my eyes to clear the sleep away.

What the hell was going on that people needed to be running up and down the halls?

“He’s fading!” An orderly yelled from right next door, the first clear words I’d heard, and my fucking heart stopped, an icy cold fist around it.

I
knew
without knowing, and my blood ran cold.

Somehow, without realizing it, I jolted out of bed and practically teleported to the room next to mine. Conner’s room. I shoved past a frantic orderly running down the hall with her cell pressed to her ear, only to stumble into the room where another one did CPR on Conner who lied limp on the floor.

“Why is his skin so white?” Was that shriek from me? Had I spoken out loud? The orderly jumped at my presence so I must have.

I dropped to my knees, grabbing his hand, nearly retching at how cold it felt in mine. A pool of white, frothy vomit pooled underneath his head, his eyes unmoving and lolled to the left underneath half-closed lids.

“No! Fuck, Conner.” I shoved at the orderly who had stopped working over him. “Do something you asshole!”

He shook his head. “He’s gone.”

The emotionless words set my nerves on edge, and I glared at him for only a moment before locking my hands and working on Conner myself. “He is not!” I pressed in the center of his chest, pumping thirty times before blowing air into his mouth. “Come on, man!” I pumped again, begging whatever God existed to spare him. To shock the life back in him, make me strong enough to bring him back.

I worked, and pumped, and breathed, and fucking bawled as if my own flesh and blood was on the floor—fuck he
was
.

It took three orderlies and twenty minutes to pull me off of him, to make me realize he was gone before I’d even started. They locked me in my room, something they’d never felt the need to do before—a luxury I had taken for granted—then they left me to watch out of the block of glass that acted as a window through the door. Watch as they wheeled Conner’s body out on a stretcher, covered in black.

I threw up in the small trash can I had in my room, mostly stomach acid that burned all the way up.

“Fuck!” I screamed, wiping my mouth with the back of my arm.

I paced back and forth, each step working up a level of violent rage I hadn’t ever felt before.

Where the fuck did he get the drugs?

My stash was securely underneath my pillow where I’d slept on top of it.

A bolt of lightning hit me square in the head, and I sank to the floor.

“You fucking idiot,” I said to myself.

Of course, I wasn’t the only one…why had I been so arrogant to think that Devlin wouldn’t have other people in place? This facility was the biggest in Oklahoma with an endless stream of new penitential clients. But who was it?

Pieces of a puzzle—the sinking weight I’d felt last night settle in my gut—came together in a way I didn’t understand, answered questions I didn’t realize had plagued me until now.

Questions like how Devlin’s brother had known where to find me at Charlie’s, and how out of all the advice he could’ve offered, he told me to fucking
keep at it
when I said I wanted to get out.

“Does anyone else know?”
he’d asked.

No. I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. It couldn’t be Thomas. He was a doctor. He knew everything about everyone…their weaknesses, their dark pasts, their hopes for getting out. He’d pushed me toward getting better. He couldn’t be a part of this.

“They’ll move on to someone else.”
How had I not realized how familiar he’d sounded when speaking about
them.
People he shouldn’t know. And how calm he’d been.

Fuck. I clenched my hand into a fist and pounded it against the wall, taking out my aggression, my grief, and my guilt with each crack of my knuckles against the concrete.

Could I have prevented this?
I asked no one in particular but thought of Conner, who had stood in the same spot I did now, not ten hours ago, alive and well. Now he was gone, and I’d never know.

The wall was tainted pink with my blood by the time I gathered myself enough to make a phone call. I walked to the community phone banks, dialing the number from a card I swore I’d never use. I’d already planned on making this call last night but not with this much information. I had to be certain, first, but I’d put the plan into action before another second slipped through my fingers.

* * *

“
E
mergency session
,” I said outside of Thomas’ opened doorway. He nodded, a look of phony-sympathy crossed over his face. Had he always looked that fake? Or could I just see clearer now?

I stomped into the gym, him on my heels, and silently we strapped on the gloves. Stepping into the ring was like hitting a live wire inside me, sparking my rage I could barely contain. If I was right, this man was responsible for Conner’s death—partly. I knew half the demon was his addiction but fuck me the one place he should’ve been safe had killed him.

“I was deeply troubled to hear about Conner,” Thomas said, raising his hands. “He was doing so well.”

“Really?” I asked, darting out a jab I knew wouldn’t connect. I needed to put on a good show, and tearing his head off like I wanted to wouldn’t do me any favors with the people who were watching.

“What are you feeling right now, Justin?”

I glared at him.

“Are we back to where I have to hit you for answers?” He sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.” He lashed out, a strong right hook tapping my jaw. I relished the pain and delivered my own jab to his side, as close as he was. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and he stumbled back two steps.

“I’m feeling,
angry
,” I said, drawing out the word.

“Understandable. You two were close.”

“More than you realize.” I darted out again, connecting a medium-strength hit to his left cheek. “How are you feeling, doc?”

He puckered his brow. “Sad, of course.”

We danced around each other, and I rocketed a hook across his jaw. “Really? Not feeling guilty?”

“As his therapist, I do take some blame in not seeing all the signs of his struggle, yes, but he hid them very well.”

I shook my head, seething. I made a circle with my gloved hand. “Absolute truths only in the ring remember, doc? You’re breaking the rules, but I guess that isn’t new for you, is it?”

He dropped his hands. “What are you implying?”

“You
know
what.”

Something dark flashed behind his eyes and for the first time since I walked into the clinic, I saw him for what he really was. “You’re very convincing. I’ll give you that,” I said, circling him. “The whole
Mr. Rodgers
get-up and the beyond perfect position…close contact with each patient, learning their weaknesses right before you exploit it.”

He slit his eyes at me.

“Tell me something, do you do it for the money or for the power of knowing you’re hand feeding something to people who aren’t in a position to turn you down?”

“Oh, Justin.” He sighed, taking off his gloves and letting them drop to the mat. “I really wish you would’ve just done your job. You would’ve gotten out then and had the chance at a real life. Now? Well, I’m afraid those bad reports will come in…you deciding to act out during your last two weeks here. It’s a natural stage in the process, regression so close to the finish line.” He took a step closer to me. “You alone can decide this outcome, now. I can either recommend further treatment here, with me, where you’ll continue to sell, only now you’ll be giving me a percentage as well as Devlin,
or,
I can recommend harsher punishment, and you can deal with him—and your failure—directly.”

I nodded. “So it comes down to money.” Before he could breathe, I slammed on top of him, pinning him to the mat and smashing his head against it. “Conner is
dead
because of you!”

He jerked his knee up, hitting me square in the nuts so hard I thought I’d puke a ball up. I toppled over, slamming against the mat as I instinctively cradled my junk. Thomas stood over me, spitting out a mouthful of blood right next to my face.

“Conner is dead because he couldn’t maintain control. He assured me he could handle the dosage I sold him. It’s not my fault he was a weak, pathetic junkie.”

I flung my arm out, cutting his legs out from underneath him. The mat trembled as his back smacked against it.

“Enough!” A female voice boomed through the room, and if I hadn’t felt like my balls had been struck by lightning, I would’ve fucking danced at the shade of white Thomas turned.

“Ring of truth is a bit tainted today, doc,” I said, pushing to my feet with a wince.

The D.A. walked to the ring’s side, four uniform cops flanking her back. “Take Mr. Newfold into custody.” And with a flick of her wrist, the cops descended upon the ring, cuffing Thomas and carting him toward the door.

“He’ll kill you for this, you know!” He shouted over his shoulder as they pushed him through the doors.

I tossed my gloves aside and hopped out of the ring, standing by the D.A.

“That was quite the performance, Mr. Hobbs,” she said, eyeing me.

“You had to know.” I sucked in a breath and held out my wrists. “And now you know everything. About me, Devlin, his goons, his operation, and Thomas.”

She nodded. “There is more than enough evidence to lock you all away for a great deal of time.”

“Good,” I said, knowing I had thrown myself in with the lot but not caring. This was the plan. This was the only solution. The only way to keep the girls safe and stop the cycle that had caused this clinic too much grief.

“You look too happy to go to prison,” she said, tilting her head.

“It’s done. The bad guys won’t hurt anyone I care about or anyone in here trying to get clean. It’s a good day.”

“I’m still curious as to how you managed to hide that amount of drugs in your room, not to mention bring in weekly deliveries without anyone, or any of the cameras catching on.”

“It wasn’t easy, but there are plenty of weak spots in the system. I merely took advantage of those. I’ll show them all to you. If you’d like.”

She raised her chin to me, her black hair tumbling down her shoulders. “I would like that very much, Mr. Hobbs. Follow me.” She glanced down at my outstretched wrists and shook her head at the lone cop who stood behind her.

I dropped my hands and let them hang loose at my sides as I followed her out of the gym, savoring the feel of the last few minutes of true freedom I had left, and hoping somewhere, Conner was laughing at the irony of me becoming the hero in our story.