Five
I t was a day later, and I was still remembering the way she looked. That outfit. The prissy hair. The way she frowned when I called her on it. Her hair was as soft and sleek as it looked, and I still couldn’t believe I’d touched it. And she’d let me. She’d looked nervous when I approached, but she didn’t move away.
Her smell still seemed to waft at me now and then, like I’d been all over her, and hadn’t showered. I fucking wished. What I wouldn’t give to pry those shapely legs apart, and see if she tastes as good as she smells. It was like violets. Sweet and delicate, and… how do I even fucking know what violets smell like? I knew I was right, but I had no idea why. Was my brain so fried from the shit I’d been on for years that I’d lost whole memories?
“Whoa, watch it!” I crashed into someone just at the top of the stairs, and instantly felt something spill down me. And then I felt the heat from whatever had been in the mug.
“Fuck!” I grabbed my t-shirt, pulling it away from my skin.
“I’m so sorry.” It was Alicia. The Pres’s old lady. Or wife. Whatever. Same diff, in my book .
“Sorry, that was my fault.”
She was covered in coffee too. She backed up, flapping the t-shirt she wore, to try and get the wet fabric away from her skin.
“Want me to get you another?”
She shook her head.
“It… I was just sneaking one before Reacher got back, but now I need to get rid of this before he smells it.”
I took the empty mug from her.
“Why do you have to hide it? I think coffee is like his second favourite smell. You know… after… well, I was gonna refer to his bike, but you’re his old lady. You’re probably his favourite smell now. Jesus. I sound like a twat.”
She laughed. “Ice, relax, I get what you’re saying. And no, it’s just that since he’s not able to drink it, I promised I’d stop too, and I can’t. I’m an add… Shit … I mean, I’m just…”
I held a hand up.
“I think this is probably the most awkward conversation I’ve had today, and lately, that’s really saying something. You can say the word ‘addict’, Alicia. More than anyone, I know that’s what I am.”
She sighed. “I always put my foot in my mouth. I’m the kind of person who walks into a church and accidently blasphemes, like within seconds. I’m not a bad person. I’m just… you know… awkward.”
“I’ll get you another drink. I should have been looking where I was going.” I started walking down the stairs, making it a few steps, before I turned to frown at her.
“What do you mean he can’t have coffee? Reacher can’t function without strong sludgy coffee. Have you got him on some kind of health kick or something?” It was like every damn thing I knew for sure had changed, in the short time I’d been away.
She looked away, pulling at her top again.
“Yeah, something like that. Don’t worry about the coffee, Ice. I need to go and get changed. Before you go, though… I was wondering if… you know… if you want to talk or anything, I’m here for you. I know it probably doesn’t sound appealing, but I’m not always throwing coffee over people. I have other skills too, and listening is one of them.”
Her offer hadn’t appealed to me, but I smiled as she finished.
“I’m good, thanks. Sure you don’t want coffee? I might grab one myself anyway.”
She stared at her t-shirt, then grinned.
“Order two, and I’ll be back down in a minute. I can’t sit like this.”
Yeah, tell me about it. Still, she’d ended up with more of it on her than me, and I was stuck wearing it. At least until I could lift my fucking arm again. It was days like this that I hid from the others normally. So nobody would know there was anything wrong. They’d just think I was busy doing my tech shit, and now I couldn’t even hide behind that.
Down at the bar, I ordered two coffees from Tommy, telling him one was for Alicia, since I had no idea how she took it. I stared at my grey t-shirt, or formerly grey t-shirt. Had it had milk in? I had no way of knowing.
“Hey, brother.” Stitch leaned against the bar beside me. He looked tired. Not like himself. That familiar easy grin wasn’t even remotely present.
“Hey. What’s up?”
Stitch stared at the bar for a moment, letting out a sigh.
“The uh… rehab centre called. Apparently you didn’t make another appointment before you left yesterday.” Jesus. It was like being hunted down like a dog.
“Yeah. I figured I would see what’s going on here, before I tied up any of my time. I might be needed.”
He fixed me with one of those shrewd gazes I was used to from him.
“Do I even need to call bullshit on that one? You know you’re off duty unless there’s a big fucking crisis. Until you feel a bit more like yourself.”
I nodded at Tommy as he slid a coffee in front of me, and another beside me. He raised his eyebrows at Stitch, but he shook his head.
“Going in a minute, thanks, Tommy.”
Yeah, he was off. Weird. Because I’d skipped out on booking another appointment? Or was it something more? I’d caused problems with the cartel, hadn’t I? Had I brought a whole bunch of shit down on the club, and nobody was telling me?
“Stitch, what’s happening?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and his face fell, as he gently eased his hand away, looking lost for a moment. Did he have the same problem as me? Was he dealing with his body feeling alien to him? Was he dealing with hating every second that breath filled his lungs, and he could feel everything? I’d never seen him using, but what if he had a secret too? Didn’t we all have fucking secrets?
“Look, just call and make an appointment, or I’ll do it for you. Your future with the club is contingent on you staying clean, got it?” He shot me a glare, and turned to walk away, nodding his hello at Alicia as she approached, a fresh t-shirt on. It looked like one I’d seen Reacher wear before, and she’d knotted it at the waist, so it wasn’t so big on her.
“That’s his favourite concert shirt,” I said lightly, and she shrugged.
“He’ll get over it.”
I pointed at her coffee, and she slid onto the stool in front of it.
“Stitch seemed pissed.” She looked worried about him, and it bothered me, because I was so focused on myself that maybe I was missing everyone else’s problems, and letting them struggle too.
“Is he okay?”
She sighed. “Nothing for you to worry about, Ice. What was he on about though?”
I cursed, instantly apologising to my President’s old lady, but she grinned.
“You think Reacher doesn’t curse up a storm daily? Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”
I scratched at my hair. It still felt wrong. When would everything about my body feel right again? Or would it never happen? Was this how I felt before?
“Apparently I’m in the doghouse for not making a second appointment with that uppity fucking counsellor.”
Alicia shrugged. “So call and make an appointment now. Seems like it’s worth a try, right? Even if you hate every minute of it. If it helps even a little, it helped.”
I groaned, and dug my phone out of my pocket, along with the business card she’d given me. Pressed into my hand, right after I pretty much insulted her, while clumsily attempting to hit on her. Naturally, it had been an epic fail.
Lissa
H e actually phoned and made another appointment. I was so surprised. Did I feel bad for reporting his lack of follow up appointment to his Club President? Not really. My job was to keep him on track, and help him through his struggles, and as his next of kin, his Club President was the person I should go to in this instance.
This guy, Reacher, was the one who made the first appointment, instructing me to keep him informed if Ice didn’t show, or made no effort. And when he’d asked me, an hour ago, when I reported Ice’s lack of appointment, I’d lied. Yes, he’d talked to me. Yes, he was working on his issues. Yes, he was trying.
It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d let me in on a few things, but there was clearly a lot going on with him, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Of everything. And not just because it was my job. He was a lost little boy inside a man’s body, and something about that made me want to nurture him. Heal him. Help him grow back into his own skin.
And had I just given up my afternoon off for him? Perhaps, but it was worth it. Sometimes patients needed to talk, and putting them off made them hold it in instead. So it was purely to help him that I’d stayed on.
“Lissa, your next appointment is here.” Next appointment. She meant my only appointment for the afternoon. The afternoon I’d planned to spend at the local spa, getting the knots massaged out of my shoulders and back. Why the hell had I set aside my own self-care for him? He’d been borderline aggressive with me last time.
As I reached for the door and pulled it open, he was already standing right on the other side. It actually made me jump, and he grinned, looking me up and down again. The way he did it was more like a physical touch than a mere glance. A slow caress, warm skin against warm skin.
I backed up a step, trying to hide how my heart had sped up, just from that glimmer of his attention. I absolutely couldn’t develop feelings for a recovering addict, especially one under my care. It was unethical, and it wasn’t in his best interests, or mine.
“You gonna shut that door, or are you suddenly afraid to be alone with me?” Ice’s voice was low, and that sent a flicker of a tingle down my spine. This was going to go badly. I could already feel it.
I turned to show him my practiced facade of serenity, as I closed the door.
“I was just giving you time to bolt, you know, if you really wanted to get away.”
He smirked, sitting down on my sofa.
“Touché.”
I followed him, and took my usual seat, carefully crossing my legs, although I saw his eyes follow the movement anyway.
“I’m glad that you returned, Ice.”
He raised his eyebrows, a sharp look in his eyes.
“You mean after you told on me to my Club Pres, and got me a clip round the ear?”
I shouldn’t have smiled, but I couldn’t help it.
“That amuses you, huh? Just so you know, that’s not how it works. I piss the Pres or VP off, and I’m more likely to get a broken nose, or a black eye. Just saying .”
My gasp in response caused him to smile this time.
“Yeah, now you’re getting it. Actually all they did today was warn me that it’s this, or I’m out. So you see, I’m here, but not by choice. And not because I have any faith in this process, or your skills. I’m just fucking here because I have to be.”
Ouch . I took a deep breath.
“Shall we just sit in uncomfortable silence for the hour then? Perhaps that’ll help you pretend that you give a crap about your health and survival.”
He stared silently at me, his eyes wider than normal.
“Wow… she bites … or was that a verbal spanking? A prelude to an actual spanking?”
His attitude wasn’t unusual, but his words were confusing.
“Is… is it easier for you if I’m responding with frustration or anger? I don’t want to cause those emotions for you, but I understand that you’re angry with this entire process.”
He didn’t answer, staring at the jug of ice water on the table. Beside it was the empty plastic glass, because I hadn’t offered this time. Last time it had pissed him off. He cleared his throat.
“Uh… may I?” He pointed at the water, so I nodded. Interesting. Maybe he only likes it if it isn’t offered to him as a gesture of support or caring.
He poured a half glass and sipped it, cradling the glass in his hands, as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t sitting comfortably, or in a position that said he planned to stay. He looked ready to leave.
“Ice… I understand that this isn’t where you want to be. Trust me, it’s not where anyone wants to be.”
“You understand? Like you’ve been in my shoes? Or you just had a whole bunch of training at some pretentious university that makes you think you understand?” Anger. I straightened in my seat. I knew how to handle anger. We see a lot of it here.
“My experiences are not your concern, Ice. What I’m talking about is wanting to help you with yours. You’re struggling right now, because the chemicals you used as a crutch, to get you through each day, were taken away from you. In fact… I have to say, I’m surprised that it’s taken three weeks to seek counselling at all. Why were you not asking for help from day one?”
He smirked at me, that anger still right there at the surface.
“Sorry, doc, I was in a fucking coma, remember? Remember how others made the decision to clean me up while I was fucking sleeping?”