Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bryce
I sit back in yet another plastic chair, leaning my head against the wall. Mum has gone to the bathroom with Millie. I hate that she has to do that, but Mum insists. This is delicate ground. We need to get Millie back into rehab, and away from Marco.
She might have overdosed because of the asshole, but she’s still asking about him.
The hospital is keeping her in for another couple of days, under strict instructions to not let Marco in to see her, under any circumstances.
Yet Millie’s last words to us as we left the hospital room last night, were “Is he okay?”
Mum squeezed my arm, hard. then drew herself up tall. “I don’t know and, frankly, I don’t care.” There was steel in her voice.
Millie had the grace to look ashamed again, and it almost broke me. My little sister, crumpled and pale in a hospital bed, all because of that jerk. Yet she still cares. I don’t understand it at all but her next words gave me hope.
“I don’t want to see him again.”
“Then you won’t,” I said, holding back with an effort. I wanted to scream at the ceiling, for what they both put us through, what they’ve done to Mum. She was trembling, holding on to my arm as though it was the only thing keeping her upright. Maybe it was.
And now we’re waiting again, for the doctor to arrive and check on Millie’s progress, and to discuss further options. I already know what they’ll be. Rehab. Methadone. Counselling. Support. All the same shit we went through last time to get her clean. I hope it sticks this time.
I open my phone again, scrolling through the photos of me and Claire.
I pause on one. She’s in her bed, tumbled sheets partially covering her naked curves, her hair tangled across the white pillows, her ocean eyes soft with desire.
I took it just after we fucked for the first time, something private for me.
She looks like a dream. My dream. I know it wasn’t just sex between us, was sure she felt the same sense of connection I did.
Yet she’s cut me off without a word. And now I feel utterly destroyed.
I know I’m partially to blame. I should have told her what was happening with my family.
But there aren’t a lot of people I let into this part of my life.
Why I kept Claire out, especially with all she shared with me, I don’t know.
I guess I was trying to protect her: she has enough going on without having to shoulder my shit as well.
Yet I know that if I did tell her she’d be here for me, that she’d understand.
Fuck. I need to talk to her.
I step into the hospital corridor and call Jeff. He answers the phone on the second ring.
“Bryce! How are things? We’re still getting very good numbers on the stuff with you and Claire, and your stats are going up overall.”
I shake my head. Jeff, always the agent.
He carries on. “Looking forward to seeing you both at the Ocean’s Curl party on Friday.”
Fuck. The party. I forgot about that. I hadn’t even mentioned it to Claire, too busy exploring every inch of her body. And with that thought the longing comes again, the need to have her near me.
“What day is it?”
“It’s Wednesday.” He pauses. “Everything all right?”
“No, it isn’t. I’ve got family shit going on up to the eyeballs, and I’ve fucked things up with Claire. I need your help.”
“Where are you now?”
“The Alfred.”
There’s a pause. “Shit.” The breezy agent bullshit tone has dropped from Jeff’s voice. “That bad?”
“That bad.”
“Okay. I can come to you. There’s a coffee shop nearby.” He describes the place. “Can you meet me there in, say, an hour?”
“Yeah.” I know the place. “Make it an hour and a half, though. Just have some stuff to sort out here.”
Ninety minutes later I’m sitting at a scrubbed wooden table, my hands wrapped around the first decent latte I’ve had in a couple of days.
Jeff, immaculate in a grey suit and pale-yellow silk tie, is sitting opposite me.
His salt-and-pepper hair is gelled into trendy spikes, framing his handsome face.
I, on the other hand, probably look a mess, dressed in an old T-shirt and cargo trousers. I rub my hand over the stubble on my chin, then I tell Jeff everything.
Well, almost everything – he doesn’t need to know all the details of what Claire and I have been up to – but he can read between the lines.
“You’ve fallen for her.”
I nod.
“Mate.” He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just tell her what was going on?”
Jeff is one of the very small circle of people who knows about Millie.
It’s business, as much as anything: he needs to know about anything that might impact his client.
But despite his brash agent persona, he’s also a really decent bloke, someone I consider a friend.
I know he’s worried about Millie. But he’s also worried about me.
“I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know anything. This has all happened so fast.”
“What do you want me to do? Just say the word and I’ll do it. We can scrub her from your socials, set up something else— What?”
I’m glaring at him. “I don’t want Claire scrubbed from anything. I want her back. What I need is to use your phone.”
Jeff stares at me. Then, with a sigh, he unlocks his phone and hands it over. I put Claire’s number in, and before I can think about it too much, I press dial.
It starts to ring.