CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
AURYN
After packing a bag of my things, I did one last line of blow before flushing the rest of it. Watching it swirl in the toilet before disappearing punched me in the gut. This was a huge step for me.
I waited until I’d already driven myself to the facility before texting Stray to let him know where I would be. This was what I had to do. I didn’t want to give anyone a chance to talk me out of it. Not that I thought they would.
Maybe they would think I was jumping the gun here. Making a rash decision based on my need to see Ripley, and maybe I was. That was fine with me.
It took several minutes for me to psych myself up enough to go inside the building. Now that I was here, I was afraid of what that meant. Knowing that Ripley was inside was the only thing that kept me from turning around and going home.
Staring at the building looming against the sky, it all hit home. What a huge step I was taking. From this moment on my life would change. That’s what I wanted after all. Wanting it didn’t make it come easy though.
The front of the building didn’t look that daunting. Kind of like a giant house. Getting out of my car, I sucked in a deep breath, and made my way inside.
The intake process wasn’t so bad. I did have to hand over my cell phone since they weren’t permitted inside. There were several questions that I had to answer and forms to fill out. I was itching to get in and find Ripley.
First the orderlies took me to a bedroom on the fourth floor that I would be sharing with another guy. A middle-aged man sat on one of the beds reading a book when we entered. He glanced up, giving me a curious onceover.
“Kevin, this is Auryn,” the orderly who’d introduced himself as Ben spoke. “He’ll be your roommate for a while.”
Kevin nodded, offering me a smile. “Cool. Nice to meet you. I hope you don’t mind snoring.”
“It’s all good,” I said, tossing my bag on the small twin bed on the opposite side of the room. “I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.”
With his salt and pepper beard and black framed glasses, Kevin gave off comfortable dad vibes. I hadn’t anticipated having a roommate. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Try to get settled in. One of the nurses will get you set up on a program right away. Feel free to explore. The dining hall and entertainment room are on the main floor.” Ben paused to see if I had any further questions before leaving the room.
From down the hall came the sound of a man shouting obscenities. After a moment, I realized he was singing a heavy metal song at the top of his lungs.
“Don’t mind him,” Kevin said, absently flipping a page in his book. “That’s just Cory. He does that a lot.”
I’d already been told that I would be under a medically supervised detox.
There was nothing keeping me here other than myself.
I was free to leave any time I chose. Upon checking in, I’d been advised to attend group therapy.
The nurse who recommended it believed it would be good for me and my situation.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to wrap my mind around what I’d done. This was going to take some getting used to. Kevin seemed especially immersed in his book. Something by James Patterson. Even though I had questions, I didn’t want to bother him.
I was about to head out to get to know the place, and hopefully find Ripley, when Kevin suddenly slammed his book shut. He sprang off his bed, straightening the sleeve of his sweater.
“Time for group,” he announced. “Want to come?”
Not even a little bit. My priority was finding Ripley. I was about to decline when something within told me to go. To make the most of this while I was here. If I wanted to be the man Ripley deserved, I couldn’t half-ass this experience.
“Sure. Why not?”
I followed Kevin down to the second floor and into a room where several people had already gathered on chairs arranged in a large circle. A therapist sat at the head of the circle, waiting for everyone to get settled.
God, I wanted some blow. The need plagued me while I sat there listening to others introduce themselves. Talking about what had brought them here, sharing parts of themselves that were easier to discuss with strangers.
One woman had become a raging alcoholic in order to deal with her abusive husband. After almost drinking herself to death in a subconscious attempt to escape him, she’d come here. Knowing that she needed to take her life back before he ruined everything she had left.
I listened attentively, not able to relate, yet appreciating her candid honesty. Witnessing the way a weight seemed to lift from her as she spoke. Maybe there was some benefit to this group setting.
The next person to speak was a man with schizophrenia. He had gone off his meds and ended up in a bad place. Now he was here trying to regain control and take back his power.
I’d had no intention of speaking when I came here with Kevin. When the therapist asked if I would like to share, I found myself opening up.
“I’m not really sure where to begin,” I said, glancing uncertainly around the circle.
Everyone’s attention was on me. “I’m here because I’m a chronic cokehead.
I started using when partying with my friends.
It was a way to have fun and take things to the next level.
At some point, it became a crutch. A way to numb out.
I’m not really so good at relating to people.
Other than my closest friends, I don’t let anyone get close. ”
There was no judgment on the faces of those around me.
Some of them simply sat there listening while others nodded, understanding in their own way.
I went on to explain how hard it had been for me to accept my feelings for Ripley.
How I’d been determined to always play the field and never fall in love.
There was nothing any person here could do to solve my problems yet having them listen seemed to help lighten the load. I sat back in my chair when I’d finished, marveling at how much lighter I felt.
I was on my way out after the group session ended when an orderly grabbed my arm, pulling me aside. His grip was tight, squeezing hard enough to bruise. He spoke through clenched teeth.
“Remember me, asshole?”
I took in his appearance, the buzzed head and nose piercing. Trying to place him. No idea.
With great difficulty, I fought back the urge to lay him out on his ass for touching me. Instead, I said, “I’m afraid not. Do I know you?”
“You should. You let my mother die.” When I continued to stare at him blankly, he added, “You and your buddies were supposed to get her a kidney. You didn’t come through on time. I promised myself that if I ever got a chance to make you fuckers pay, I would take it. Better watch your back.”
A low chuckle spilled from me. Was this guy for real?
“We make no promises. We do what we can when we can. I’m sorry about your mom, but that’s not on us.
If you think you’re going to get some kind of vengeance on me now, you better think again.
I’m not someone you want to mess with.” Jerking my arm from his grasp, I gave him a shove.
Hard enough to send him stumbling backwards with arms flailing.
I didn’t need this shit. The waiting list for organs was a mile long.
Our supply was limited. Not everyone was going to get what they wanted.
I wouldn’t be held responsible for the death of this guy’s mother.
Sure it was unfortunate, and I didn’t wish it on anyone, but it wasn’t on us to save everyone.
We were running an illegal operation here.
They knew that. They knew the risks, and they knew the odds.
Before I got the chance to seek out the entertainment room, I was sidetracked by a nurse who wanted to take my vitals. Along with a blood and urine sample. Then she gave me something that was supposed to help with the withdrawal.
Lucky for me, cocaine wasn’t as hard to come off of physically as alcohol and other drugs. Although mentally it may really put me through the ringer. The nurse went over some programs they had, including an outpatient rehab and therapy program I could access after I left.
I felt grateful for her help. Not everyone who visited a place like this made it out successfully. I didn’t know if I would either, but I was damn well going to try.
When at last I got the chance to hunt down Ripley, I stepped into the entertainment room and came to an abrupt stop.
There was a girl spinning in constant circles in the corner, her head thrown back as she stared at the ceiling.
Several people gathered on two large couches, watching TV.
A few others were scattered around the room reading, playing board games, or just talking.
Right away her blonde hair caught my eye. Drawing me right to her. Ripley sat on a chair near the window, staring outside into a green space that looked like a garden. She absently twisted a lock of hair around a finger, lost in thought.
There was something so perfect about being able to stand back and simply look at her. I didn’t want to ruin it.
Feeling my gaze upon her, Ripley suddenly glanced over. Our eyes locking. Then she immediately burst into tears.