Chapter 13
13
Silas
Usually, I’d dive into the Mexican takeout set up on my kitchen island, but my appetite was almost non-existent. I added some rice, beans, and a flour tortilla to my plate and took a seat at the dining table I rarely used.
My parents, Britt, and Cash had been in town for over twenty-four hours, and while I was grateful that they cared enough to drop everything and fly to California, having them in my space was starting to get to me.
Mom eyed my plate. “Is that all you’re going to eat? You didn’t have much for breakfast or lunch either.”
“Just haven’t been hungry,” I grumbled, ripping off a piece of tortilla.
It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on me, and when I looked up, I found that it wasn’t my imagination.
Except for Cash.
He was the only person who didn’t seem to be watching me with suspicion. While he had been the most insistent about rehab, he wasn’t fussing over me or acting like I was about to run out of my apartment to score some drugs. Maybe it was because of his job, and he had more knowledge about my current situation than my parents or even my sister. But whatever it was, I appreciated how he treated me the same as he had the other times we’d been around each other.
“I can make you something else if you don’t want Mexican food.” Mom started to get up.
“You don’t need to do that. If I want something else, I’ll get it.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “If you change your mind?—”
“Mom, stop,” I snapped. “I’m fine.”
“Silas—” Dad’s voice held a hint of warning, but before he could say anything else, Britt spoke up.
“We’re just worried about you.”
I pushed my plate away. “I get that, but having you all watching me like you expect me to pull out some coke and snort a line right here at the dining table isn’t helping either.”
“That’s not what we’re doing,” Dad argued.
I lifted a brow. “It’s not? Because that’s what it feels like. I’ve already agreed to go to rehab.”
“You scared the hell out of everyone,” Britt shot back. “So you’ll have to excuse us if we aren’t handling the situation perfectly.”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “I know I did, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how it felt when you heard the news. But having everyone hovering over me isn’t helping either.”
“He’s right,” Cash agreed with me, causing Britt to turn her head and glare at him. “He’s going to rehab, and he’s got people here who are willing to help him, but making him feel like he can’t breathe doesn’t do him any good.”
“Is that really how you feel?” Mom asked.
I nodded. “I know you mean well, but I have a lot to do before I check into a place, and it would be easier if you weren’t watching me every second of the day.”
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Okay. We’ll head back to Boston tomorrow, but you need to promise to call someone if you need anything or are struggling. The guys said they’re here for you and we can book a flight to come right back if you change your mind.”
“Okay. Thank you.” My eyes locked with Cash’s, and I hoped he knew most of my gratitude was directed at him for stepping in.
After everyone finished eating, my mom started cleaning up the kitchen while my dad and Britt began to look for flights home.
I stood and glanced at Cash. “Can I talk to you out on the balcony?”
Britt looked at her boyfriend and tilted her head.
He shrugged before turning to me. “Sure.”
We stepped outside, and I slid the door closed behind me.
He stood by the glass railing, so I walked over and rested my forearms on the ledge. “Yesterday was a bit intense with everyone showing up, but I wanted to thank you for finding the information on that rehab place in Malibu.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Glad you decided to go.”
“I’m a bit nervous about it, to be honest.” My confession surprised me. I wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, especially in front of someone I didn’t know all that well. “I really didn’t think partying would lead to me going to rehab.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think anyone ever expects things to get out of hand, and being nervous is completely normal. Just remember, you have all of us in your corner. Your parents and sister love you so much; they’ll do anything to support you. And I’m just a phone call away.”
“Thanks. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“Not a problem. We’re practically family.”
Two days later, the sun had barely started to rise when Malachi and Jesse showed up at my front door, ready to take me to rehab. Elliott was already at my apartment, having arrived about five minutes after my parents, Britt, and Cash had left the previous afternoon. I couldn’t help but believe they had done some plotting behind my back to make sure I wasn’t left unsupervised.
I’d spent the rest of my time at home packing the small number of things I was allowed to take to the facility and tying up some loose ends since I wouldn’t be around for a month to pay bills and take care of basic shit like that.
As we pulled out of my apartment complex, I was grateful I didn’t see any paparazzi around. Elliott, Jesse, and I didn’t garner as much media attention as Malachi, but ever since my overdose, I couldn’t go anywhere without a few trying to get me to comment about what had happened. It was the main reason we were leaving so early, and hopefully, they’d move on to another story before I returned home.
The rehab facility was about forty miles away on the coast, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. When we pulled up, I was surprised to find the place looked even better than the photos in their brochures. With its Spanish-style architecture and landscaped gardens, it would have been easy to mistake it for some millionaire’s beach house.
“Man, this place is beautiful,” I said from the backseat as Jesse pulled to a stop in front of the building. “It’s hard to believe I’m here for rehab.”
“Yeah, it is,” Malachi replied. “But it’s also the best place for you to get better.”
“Yeah, man. We’ve got your back. Just focus on getting well, okay?” Jesse added.
Even though I was fucking up the tour, something they’d all warned me not to do, it didn’t appear any of them were upset with me. “I know. Thanks, guys. For everything. And I’m sorry about the tour.”
Elliott turned around. “You and your health are more important than any tour.” It was something he’d told me a few times since I’d left the hospital, but I still hadn’t let go of the guilt for messing everything up.
Malachi nodded. “Absolutely. We’ll be here for you, no matter what. The fans will understand.”
That wasn’t something I was as confident about, but I hoped it was true. “I appreciate it, really. I’ll see you guys on the other side.”
With my bags in hand, they gave me a few more words of encouragement before a staff member greeted me.
“Silas Hale?” a woman with a kind smile asked as she approached our group.
“That’s me.” I stepped forward.
“I’m Sarah, and I’ll be getting you checked in today.”
I gave each of the guys a hug goodbye.
“Remember, we’re just a phone call away.” Elliott clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need us.”
“Will do.” I followed Sarah through the glass doors.
Once inside, we stopped at the reception desk, where two staff members appeared to be waiting for us. “Wendy is our daytime receptionist, and Walter here is part of our security team,” Sarah explained. “He’s going to do a quick search of your belongings, and then he’ll take your luggage to your room.”
I expected to be led away before he opened my bags, but they explained they conducted their searches in front of the patient for liability reasons. It was a little odd watching someone rifle through my stuff, but obviously, they had to make sure people weren’t trying to sneak in drugs and other shit.
When he finished, Sarah and I headed down a hallway to a small office.
“Go ahead and take a seat.” She gestured to the plush chair across the desk from where she sat. “Before we get you set up in your room, we have some paperwork to get through.”
She placed a stack of papers in front of me, making sure to go over every one of them. They included admission agreements, a confidentiality statement, and a few physical and psychological questionnaires.
After I completed everything, she went over the facility’s rules and regulations. They all seemed reasonable, and I signed the form acknowledging their zero-tolerance policy regarding drugs and alcohol, as well as the other guidelines like no violence and no sex.
“Okay.” She placed everything into a folder labeled with my name. “Later today, our medical staff will perform an evaluation, and then we’ll review your specific treatment plan. But for now, I’ll show you to your room and you can get settled in.”
“Sounds good.”
The bedroom I’d call my own for the next thirty days was spacious and bright. An oversized chair sat next to two floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the ocean, and I could picture myself relaxing while watching the waves crash against the shore.
“I’ll give you some privacy. If you need anything at all, just ask.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
As soon as she left, I sat on the bed. It was nearly as comfortable as mine at home and a hundred times better than my bunk on the bus or some of the hotel rooms I had stayed in.
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled slowly. While I still had my doubts about whether I needed rehab, I was going to give the program my all. Especially because there were a lot of people depending on me to get my shit together.