Chapter 42
— Scout —
We were good. Real fucking good. Two days of bliss, banter, and random blow jobs that never quite let me finish.
Remmy briefly sucking my dick while Cillian waited at the front door seemed to have triggered some kind of sick foreplay that left me frustrated and brooding all goddamn day between visits from Linney and Cillian working around my kitchen.
By the time Remmy rode my dick at the end of each day, I’d almost begged to be put out of my misery. And when I lay on my back, sated to within an inch of my life with Remmy tucked in the crook of my good arm, I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest sonofabitch alive. Aside from my entire career riding on my recovery, that was.
Remmy’s long braided hair draped against my sheets, and her fingers interlaced with my restricted ones resting on my torso. Her breath tickled across my chest in sleepy puffs and grew slower the further she slipped into dreamland.
Sleep clawed at me, too, but a prickling thought at the back of my mind had me resisting for a while longer as I tried to connect the pieces. Something didn’t add up, and, although subtle, it was increasingly obvious that Remmy’s entire demeanor changed whenever it came time for me to take more meds. I hadn’t noticed at first but was becoming more aware of the ever-so-slight tension on her face each time she was around my pills.
I’d tried to broach the subject tonight, however, that had ended in her having her wicked way with me—not that I complained a single bit. Now though… it still had me perplexed.
Tomorrow. We needed to have a conversation tomorrow, and I’d get answers. Furthermore, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t get sidetracked by her magnificent tits thrust in my face.
After turning my head to press one last lingering kiss to Remmy’s forehead, I released a deep sigh and let sleep finally claim me.
~
Early the next morning, when my usual alarm would have started its unwelcome wake up call, I stretched as best I could while trying not to move my right arm too much. My lazy, contented stretch morphed into snappy taps when I couldn’t feel Remmy in bed with me.
Lifting my head and cracking one eye, I found her side of the bed vacant.
Assuming she was in the bathroom, I relaxed again, staring at the ceiling as I mentally extracted myself from the last tendrils of sleep.
Now awake, my elbow started to ache like a fiend. I needed the rest overnight, but a major downside of not waking for more medication was that I woke up sore. If I didn’t take some now, I’d be hella uncomfortable soon.
Groaning, I rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed, then knocked softly on the bathroom door. Pushing in after receiving no reply, I found it empty.
Using the bathroom, I rubbed one eye with my palm as I carefully picked my way toward the stairs, heading for the kitchen.
Barely four steps down, a harrowing cry tore through the silence, followed by the sound of items scattering on floor tiles. I’d never run downstairs so fast in my life. So fast that a bolt of pain speared through my elbow as I flung both arms wide for balance.
I rounded the landing and skidded to a screaming halt on the threshold of the tiled kitchen. Stopped dead by the scene before me. Of Remmy. On her knees. Sobbing her heart out. With pills and empty bottles scattered around her.
My heart lurched painfully as I fought to process everything. I panted as my head spun. What the fuck was going on?
Without further thought, I rushed forward, skidding to my knees before her. The collision of my thighs around hers failed to snap her from whatever clutches had her chained so deeply.
My one available hand urgently pawed over her head, shoulder and arm, desperately trying anything to gain her attention.
“Remmy, honey, what happened? Talk to me,” I implored, voice cracking with despair.
She simply shook her head, keeping her face cradled in her hands.
A fresh fracture cut through my chest. Ignoring the spilled pills around us, I gathered her against me as best I could and held her as she shook and cried. Tears ripped free, heavy and guttural. The kind that raked through her entire body and tore strips off my soul. My god it was torture not being able to do a damn thing to help her.
“Talk to me, babe,” I beseeched into her hair, holding her as tight as I dared.
It only made her cry harder. I silently cursed myself and closed my eyes against the harrowing emotion pouring around us.
Up until now, Remmy had kept her guard up. She’d shown me how strong and sweet she could be, but never had I seen her shed a tear, let alone cry like her entire world had crumbled.
“Christ, honey, you’re scaring me. What’s happened? Tell me what’s going on? Let me help you.”
“You can’t help me. There’s nothing you can do,” she sobbed, shaking her head as tears cascaded.
Terror gripped me harder when she seemed to fold in on herself. Withdrawn and utterly shut down.
Seeing her in that state had the hairs on my forearms rising. Like our ghosts had risen. I forced a swallow, desperate to drive the shadows back down into my churning stomach. The roll of nausea and the evil thoughts finding their voices deep inside me had me gripping Remmy on the shoulder—hard—and shaking.
“Remmy! Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
The bark in my tone snapped her head up.
The light… oh my fucking heart.
The light normally shining in her eyes had completely vanished. Through anger and defiance and joy and sadness, I’d never seen her so broken. So… done.
Tenderly smoothing my hand over her cheek, I softened my tone. “Please, honey.”
Each stream of tears I wiped from one cheek came back the moment I dried the other. Fuck only having the use of one arm. Fuck it all.
“Talk to me,” I begged again.
Torrents of tears trickled down her face as she slowly shook her head again. The miserable quiver of her lower lip made me want to kiss her pain away.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, barely audible.
I tried to shift impossibly closer. “For what, babe? I don’t understand.”
Remmy’s reddened eyes flicked across the floor around us, as she repeated, “I’m so sorry.”
Fighting back impatience, I followed her uneasy gaze, realizing we were both sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor surrounded by spilled medication.
I cut my stricken gaze back to Remmy as a new type of panic took hold. “Did you take some? How many?” When nothing but more tears slid down her cheeks, I shook her shoulder again. “Did you fucking take some?”
My harsh tone at least got a response. “No.”
The first sigh of relief passed my lips. However, it was short-lived. All it took were another four words to tear my heart from my chest.
“I’m an addict, Scout.”
Shock made my chin tuck back. I stared at her. Held her gaze and studied her, wanting to uncover the entire truth.
As I took in the strewn pills and her behavior changes when I was taking them, it suddenly all made sense. The tension in her posture and the subtle twist of her lips. The ghosts behind her irises. The walls she kept up. It all made fucking sense.
“You’re addicted to prescription drugs?” I asked in utter disbelief.
If sorrow could stab a dagger into my chest, Remmy’s expression would have twisted it deeper.
“I was,” she whispered. “But once an addict, always an addict, right?”
A thick swallow didn’t budge the sharp lump from my throat. “Are you sure you haven’t taken any?”
Not to be an asshole, but I had to get a grip on the entire situation.
“I haven’t,” Remmy bit back.
Her teeth clenched and bared, giving me a glimmer of hope of getting her through this. Somehow. I had no damn clue how, but I would.
“C’mon, let’s get you to the living room.” Gathering her against me, I grunted as I helped her to her feet.
Once standing, she pulled away. “I don’t deserve your sympathy. I’ll get my things and leave.”
I bristled. There was no way in hell I was letting her walk. “The hell you will. Get your ass in the living room, now . We’re going to have a conversation.”
I expected her to resist. To lift her chin in defiance. Instead, she simply eased past, tiptoeing her way around the scattered meds, and wordlessly left me standing in the middle of my kitchen facing yet another Remmy curveball I hadn’t seen coming.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I then ducked and plucked up a couple of pills from the floor and tossed them back. The conversation I was about to embark on was going to be hard enough without the worsening pain radiating in my elbow.
I found Remmy cowering into the far corner of the couch, feet tucked under her and arms wrapped around her torso. Christ the sight made my heart ache.
Pulling the coffee table up behind me, I sat in front of Remmy and braced my elbow on my knee.
“Do you want to start, or shall I?” I asked softly after a sigh.
Remmy’s voice came small. “Where should I even start?”
I sat back and threw up my hand, trying real damn hard to keep the dismay out my tone. “The start is as good a place as any.”
Her sorrow-filled gaze met mine. “I’m sorry, Scout. I tried a couple of times over the last few days to tell you, but I lost the nerve.”
A huff deflated my lungs. “It’s too late now, babe. But seriously, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. All of it. No more hidden truths. I not only want honesty, but transparency. No stone left unturned. I don’t care if we have to sit here all day, you’re going to tell me the full story, starting with how the fuck you came to be bawling your eyes out on my kitchen floor surrounded by pills.” I pushed out a hard breath while shoving a hand through my sleep-mussed hair.
“It’s a bit of a long story, but I’ll start with saying that I didn’t take any of them. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I’ve been clean for three years after being addicted to painkillers. It happened after an accident, back when my life was… simpler.” She palmed her tears away and sniffed hard. “Can we have coffee first?”
“No,” I stated. I wanted to hear it all. Now.
I received a defeated huff. “Fine. For the last three years, I’ve managed to avoid coming into close contact with meds. Until—”
“Until you met me.” My memories took me back to Mercedes and Beckett’s wedding—or more like the morning after when Remmy had acted like I accused her of stealing my meds when I couldn’t find them.
With that memory burning in my chest, I hung my head for a brief moment before meeting her green eyes. “Little things make sense now. Please, continue.”
She nodded, tears still threatening but no longer falling. “It’s true what they say—that you can conquer addiction, but it always keeps a small hold of you. Every day I fight it in some way, shape, or form. Some days it’s just a fleeting thought or niggle, other days I’m physically shaking and fighting with my mind. Just one , it tells me. For old times’ sake. Or it’s my head trying to convince my consciencethat I had a handle on my addiction, so one pill wouldn’t hurt. Like it wouldn’t throw me down the rabbit hole all over again.”
I kept my curse silent to not disturb her flowing confession.
“If it wasn’t for Bass, I’d still be in the grips of addiction. He’s the one who fought for me, tooth and nail, standing by my side when the rest of our family had given up after all their desperate interventions hadn’t worked. I owe Bass my life,” she stated calmly, with a shrug. “Him, Bren, and Steph have been my rocks throughout it all.”
“You knew Bren and Steph beforehand?”
“No,” she whispered. “I met them through rehab. There’s nothing like having a best friend who’s been through similar struggles. They’ve kept me strong.”
I nodded. Processing. Their bond made sense. “Okay, so that’s the why. Tell me the how.”
“The how…” Remmy laughed bitterly, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe it. “I’ve always been a determined bitch, you know. Tell me not to do something, and I’ll do it.”
A wicked glint entered her gaze, making me smile a little.
“I don’t think you would have come this far if you didn’t have that trait.”
She hummed. “Maybe. But I might not have had my accident either.”
I cocked my head, waiting.
“I was at a house party with a bunch of friends. We were drunk and being stupid, and someone found a bicycle. The guys made a ramp and made it look easy…” She let out another heavy sigh. “Long story short, I attempted the jump. Landed it but was so out of control that I slammed into a lamppost. My thigh took the brunt of the impact, and I broke my femur.”
A shudder ran through me as I hissed, “Shit. The scar on your leg…”
Remmy remained expressionless. “Yeah. I needed surgery, and therefore pain relief. I didn’t realize I’d developed a dependency to opioids until they tried to wean me off. I found myself craving them and taking my doses early, initially lying that I’d spilled them in the sink, and they’d become wet. They simply prescribed me more.” She shrugged. “Getting more was easy at first. All I had to say was that my pain was still bad and that I needed more. By the time a couple of months had passed, I was completely hooked.
“From there, I started stealing or using any painkillers I could get my hands on. I was staying with Mom and Dad at the time, and once Mom found out, she kicked me out back to my place.
“By then I was able to care for myself, but without a job and without a supply of drugs, I turned to the dark web.”
I scrubbed my hand over my face again, slowly processing her confession through my shock.
Remmy shrugged with nonchalance. She grew increasingly emotionally detached and respondent as her recount continued. “Getting my supply came easy once I knew where to get it. From there, it was a functioning spiral of keeping up appearances while feeding my addiction any chance I got. My mom had forbidden me from setting foot in their home after she gave me a second chance and caught me stealing her medication again. They fought for the longest time to get me help, but I didn’t want it, so their efforts were futile. In the end, they’d exhausted all options, and I still couldn’t admit I had a problem. So, they backed off and stopped pushing me into rehab or therapy. The only one who stood by me from there and fought through the ugliest times was Bastian.
“He let me stay in his spare room when I lost my apartment due to not meeting rent. He kept a close eye on me but couldn’t stop me from using. By then, I was on FootFet to fund my addiction, and after my third overdose when he was left picking up the pieces again, not knowing if I’d survive due to the liver and kidney damage, he forced me into a rehab institution.”
Remmy took a shuddering breath. “The withdrawal was something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. My entire body ached. Not just an ‘ache’—” she air-quoted “—but a bone deep throb, especially in my joints, that wouldn’t ease. My heart raced so hard I thought I was going to die. Between that, the vomiting, cramps, and diarrhea, I lost a ton more weight. Despite being deathly exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. The insomnia was horrid, which heightened the drug cravings and paranoia. I became restless and depressed, and aggressive toward anyone who dared challenge me or when my withdrawal doses were weaned back further.”
I shook my head, utterly stunned as Remmy dashed away a fallen tear and whispered, “Bastian never once gave up on me.”
My goddamn heart fractured for her. “Christ, Remmy,” I said hoarsely, rubbing her knee. “I had no idea…”
She shrugged again. “No one does. Not even Bass, not fully. But that’s why I won’t take pain relief for a headache or period cramps. And I don’t drink or smoke out of fear it will lead me down that path again, because if I spiraled again, I’d rather stay there than go through withdrawal again.” A shudder ran through her as if it was her body’s way of agreeing. “They were literally the worst weeks of my life. I truly wanted to end it once and for all.”
With a lump in my throat and completely lost for words, I fell to my knees in front of her and coaxed her to the edge of the couch. I nestled between her open legs and pulled her to me, securing her against my chest with my free arm around her back.
“I’m so fucking glad you made it, honey,” I murmured into her neck. “And I’m so sorry you went through hell.”
I’d seen the dirty looks Remmy’s family had given her at Merce and Beckett’s wedding. It all made so much sense now, but their lack of understanding made my blood boil.
On my knees and biting back emotion as Remmy’s inhale shuddered against my chest, I vowed to fight just as hard as Bastian had. Harder, even. Starting with hiding my meds so they weren’t taunting her every minute of the day.
“I’m sorry for almost stealing your meds from you.” She began to sob, breaking my heart all over again.
I pulled away and studied her at close range. Red-rimmed and puffy, her green eyes lacked their usual luster. Dark circles bordered her lower lash line, emphasizing the ashen hue of her skin. Her long dark hair that normally hung in silky sheets down her back was knotted on the top of her head, lopsided, frizzy, and barely staying tied.
If broken needed a visual representation, Remmy was it.
“I’m sorry for leaving the temptation lying around so carelessly.”
Her face crumpled once more. “I didn’t tell you though.”
Goddammit my heart shattered all over again. “It’s okay now. I promise. It’s not a problem. You’re not a problem,” I reiterated.
“I feel like I always am,” she cried. “I’ve caused nothing but one drama after another. I mean, the whole world is talking shit about you because of me. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have torn your elbow ligament, and you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“Exactly,” I emphasized, “if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here right now. I’d still be searching for someone to give my heart to.”
Remmy hid behind her hands and sobbed quietly.
“Christ, honey. C’mere.” I hugged her as best I could with one arm immobilized. “We’re going to get through this together. I promise.”
She wiped away the fresh moisture with her fingertips, then pinned me with a watery stare. “Really? You mean that?”
“I’m not just some pretty color on your nails, darlin’. I’m here to stay,” I drawled wryly with a slight smile, slipping effortlessly back into my small-town boyish charm.
My low-key attempt at lightening the mood worked. Remmy snorted a little, then looked at her manicure. “I always knew you were different.”