Always (Follow Me #6)

Chapter Thirty-Five

I grew up with an alcoholic. Although my father quit drinking after the fire, he had one relapse after Mom’s death.

I was still just a kid, but I was the older son, so I took the brunt of Dad’s outburst.

The entire world shrank to our shabby living room, where broken bottles littered the worn rug and stale cigarette smoke hung in the air like a constant reminder of our dismal reality.

Yeah, Dad smoked when he drank.

Bobby Black wasn’t much, but he was all Ben and I had, so it fell to me to take care of this mess and make sure he never drank again.

It was a grim undertaking, but one I accepted without hesitation. The lingering smell of old whiskey mixed with the cold winter air that slipped through the cracks under our door. Dad’s resentful slurs echoed in my mind, a soundtrack to my childhood I wish I could forget. But it wasn’t all bad, Ben and I had each other.

And Dad eventually came around.

But it taught me many lessons, the first of which was how to recognize someone whose faculties are impaired.

Tessa is on something. Maybe it’s just a lot of vodka. It could be. I’m not sure. What I do know is that Skye will need me, so I don’t go far away. I find a restaurant and bar about a block away, hand my car over to the valet, and walk inside.

The bar has a cozy, old-world charm draped in a dim, moody light, heavy on the burgundy leather. I find a stool and order a Wild Turkey.

Frank Sinatra croons through hidden speakers.

“Here you go.” The barkeep slides my drink toward me.

I take a sip.

I keep my eyes on the door, every now and then glancing at my phone that lies motionless on the counter. My mind races, filled with images of Skye and Tessa’s haunted eyes. The sip from my glass burns its way down my throat.

The din of the restaurant fades into a hum, and Sinatra’s velvety vocals wrap me in a cocoon of melancholy.

A sudden laughter and clinking of glasses pull me back from my thoughts, jarring my senses. A group of revelers on the far side of the bar are celebrating something. I chase away my grim thoughts with another gulp of Wild Turkey.

My phone screen lights up. It’s Skye.

Sooner than I anticipated.

“Hi, Skye,” I say into the phone.

“Hey,” she says, her voice breathless. “Tessa has passed out, and I’m afraid she might have done some drugs or something.”

I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed. I knew Tessa was in trouble. I down the last of my drink. “I’m on my way.”

“I may not be here. We called 911.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Addie. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Addie?” I nearly snarl. What the hell is Addie doing there? But I know the answer. She’s stalking me. Stalking Skye. It’s what she fucking does. “I might have known.”

“Known what?” Skye asks.

“I can’t explain now. I’m heading to Tessa’s. If the ambulance gets there before I do, text me where you’re going.”

I arrive back at Tessa’s just as the paramedics are getting her onto a stretcher.

“Where are you taking her?” Skye asks. “Can I ride in the ambulance?”

“Mass General,” one of the EMTs says. “You family?”

Skye shakes her head. “Friend.”

“I suppose so, if there’s no one else.”

I step forward and take Skye’s arm. “I’ll drive her.”

The EMT nods.

I move Skye away from the chaos, and—

Then I see her.

Addison Ames.

Addie is still here.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, gesturing to her.

Addie doesn’t reply.

“It’s okay,” Skye tells me. “She actually helped me.”

“I’m here now,” I say to Addie. “Stay here. I’ll call a cab from my car to take you home.”

She nods nervously.

Addie seems shaken.

Maybe this is reminding her of another time. A lifetime ago. When she was the one getting loaded into an ambulance.

And I was the one deathly afraid…

Skye doesn’t speak as I help her into my car. She doesn’t speak as I call a cab for Addie.

She doesn’t speak the rest of the way to Mass General.

She doesn’t speak as I hand my keys over to the valet and we go into the ER.

I look to her, give her a second, but then realize she’s in shock. I’ll do the talking.

I walk to reception. “Tessa Logan was just brought in. How is she?”

“Are you a family member?”

“I’m Braden Black. My girlfriend is Tessa’s best friend. She’s the one who called 911.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Black, but I can’t give out any patient information unless you’re a family member.”

I consider waving some substantial cash around to get answers, but I don’t.

We’ll find out soon enough, and Skye needs me. I return to her and sit down.

“I have to call her parents,” she says numbly.

I nod. “You mean you haven’t?”

“No. I… I couldn’t think. I have no idea what to say to them.”

I take her phone from her. “What’s the number?”

“It’s in my contacts under Dan and Carlotta Logan.”

I find the contact and press call.

“Hello,” a male voice says.

“Hello, Mr. Logan? I apologize for calling at this late hour. My name is Braden Black, and my girlfriend is Skye Manning. I’m sorry to tell you that your daughter Tessa has been taken to Mass General ER.”

“What? Is she okay?” Panic laces his tone.

“She was drinking, and Skye found her passed out and couldn’t wake her. That’s all I know because they won’t give any information to non-family members.”

“My wife and I will be there right away. Thank you so much for calling.”

“No problem. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. We’ll see you soon.” I turn to Skye. “They’re on their way.”

She nods.

I take her hand, rub my thumb into her palm.

I wish I could fix this for her. For Tessa.

But I couldn’t fix my mother.

I couldn’t fix my father.

And I couldn’t fix Addie that day.

And now that I have enough money to last ten lifetimes?

I still can’t fix things like this.

Money truly isn’t everything.