2. Drew #2
“I swear I forgot about them.” I hold up my hands defensively. I really did. “Once I found them, I remembered doing it, but I’d just opened the drawer in search of a syringe for a mare on antibiotics. That’s it.”
“You need to let your brother know.”
“No,” I snap, shaking my head.
“Yes. Drew, you can’t be riding twelve-hundred-pound animals while on that shit, especially when you’re not fully cleared as it is.”
“I didn’t take them, though. We don’t need my brother, or worse, Kristen, getting involved. They have enough stress on their plate. Don’t add me back to their list.”
My brother and his wife, who happens to be the town’s only psychologist, have been trying to grow their family but have had issue after issue. They finally decided to quit trying and go the adoption route. Except the excessive amount of red tape is causing even more headache.
Jace sighs again, a sound only I seem to cause, as he paces along the front side of his well-loved computer desk. I think he’s had the thing since high school.
Stopping in front of me with his hand outstretched, he lifts an eyebrow expectantly. “Hand them over.”
Without much hesitation—which I’m proud of, by the way—I pull the snack-size baggie from my pocket. Jace quickly removes it from my possession.
“This all of them?” he asks.
I almost nod before guilt immediately sets its claws in me.
He holds his hand out as I reach into my pocket and produce two loose pills. The monster in my mind demands I hold on to them, but I know better than to listen to it.
I’ve already seen rock bottom. Rather not make a second trip.
Jace places his other hand on my arm in encouragement. “Come on, man.”
With a deep, forced breath, I drop the pills into his awaiting hand.
Watching him pocket the baggy tightens something in my chest, something I haven’t felt in months.
Welp, guess that therapy appointment won’t be canceled this week.
There’s too much shit I need to work out, anyway, what with the changes coming our way.
Things in Havenwood are about to get a hell of a lot more interesting.
“Why don’t you head home. I’ll swing by and check in as soon as all my workers get here.”
I shake my head but stand and start for the door. “You don’t need to. I’ll be fine,” I lie, knowing I’ll fight this feeling well into the morning. Infinite experience with it has proven it won’t go away with time.
“Call me if you need me,” he concedes, and I know he knows I’m not being honest with either of us. Before I can open the door, he pulls me into an unexpected hug, his massive body engulfing mine.
“Don’t make me have to beat your ass,” he says, meaning every word. “And grab those fries from the window on your way out.”
I nod, emotions too heavy to speak. Sometimes, when you’ve been friends as long as we have, words aren’t needed.
***
Dusk is settling in by the time my boots hit the sidewalk. I slowly make the trek home on foot, the thought of what comes next weighing heavily on me. At least the smell of Buck’s loaded chicken fries is a small comfort. Extremely small. Miniscule.
Ah, hell. Nothing can comfort me right now.
Ten months ago, I ruined the best relationship I could ever hope to have. The girl of my dreams, too. Leila Barrett has been through hell and back time and time again, but she always manages to bounce back stronger. More determined. Unstoppable.
And I shattered her heart, tucked tail, and ran back to Georgia like the coward I am.
Two weeks later, I swung my leg over the back of an unbroke stud colt while more than a little inebriated.
It ended with emotional trauma for the horse and catastrophic damage to my collarbone and shoulder blade, requiring multiple surgeries, hardware, and physical therapy.
A couple hairline spinal fractures luckily healed up on their own.
Now my lumbar area twinges with occasional muscle spasms, and stretches are daily routine if I want to use my core muscles.
The last thing on my mind was making amends with the girl whose heart I shattered. She deserved better. She deserves better. But she’s moving to Havenwood, back to her home town. Here. And it has me second-guessing every decision I’ve made since walking out of her hotel room that rainy October day.
I fish keys out of my back pocket while making my way up the winding metal staircase that connects my apartment to the open gym floor.
Once inside, I toss the keys and my phone onto the counter then strip my shirt and grab an ice pack from the freezer, gently settling it over my shoulder.
The minute I sit in my recliner, a knock sounds at the door.
“Go away!” I yell, already knowing who it is without checking. Should’ve known better than to trust that Jace wouldn’t call Declan the minute I left. The lock flicks a second before the door opens, my brother’s annoying face filling the doorframe.
“I locked that for a reason.”
“And I unlocked it for a reason, little brother.” He closes the door behind him before leaning against it, crossing one dusty brown cowboy boot over the other as he kicks back like he owns the place.
“I need new friends,” I grumble halfheartedly. Our brotherhood is still a bit rocky since everything that happened. I blame myself—because I’m the jackass who made stupid choices —but my brother still shoulders some of the guilt for everything that followed his hotel room interruption in Tennessee.
“You have friends who care. That’s more than a lot of guys can say.”
I push out of my recliner and throwing the icepack haphazardly on the floor in my frustration, storming further into my loft. I’d love to escape his proximity, but my living space is only so big.
“He’s worried about you,” Declan calls after me. “And quite frankly, so am I.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m a married man who knows better than to believe that four letter word, no matter the mouth it comes out of.”
I scoff, turning my focus to folding the clothes on my bed instead of watching my brother study me. I’m tired of everyone looking so closely. Always looking for the weakest point to poke and prod to see if I’ll fall again. “Watch out, the addict might crumble under pressure.”
I can see Declan nod in my periphery, and it causes heat to creep up my neck at the embarrassment of it all. The sarcasm clearly didn’t take.
“You know as well as anyone what this is, Drew. You’re struggling with Leila coming back to town, with what that means for the both of you.
” He continues to stare as I put my clothes away, my attempt at ignoring him not phasing him in the slightest. Then he hits me where it hurts, his words nearly collapsing me on the spot.
“I know there’s still at least one pain pill in your pocket, kid. ”
My entire body freezes, air wheezing from my lungs. “You’re out of your mind,” I choke out.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
He and I lock into a stare down, the same dark-blue eyes staring back at each other, neither brother speaking for a time. I don’t know what he sees in my expression, but Declan’s eyes finally soften.
“Empty your pockets, bro. Prove me wrong.”
That itchy, too-tight feeling is back, squeezing at my chest. I’d love to tell my big brother to shove off, prove to him that I’m a big boy who can handle problems on his own.
But I can’t.
I spin away from Declan, my fist connecting with the frame of my bedroom door, wood cracking at the contact. I lean my forehead against the now damaged door, my eyes clenched tight as I try to regain control of my emotions.
“Come on, buddy. You’ve made it almost six months. Don’t throw that away.”
Feeling sick—and hating myself more than a little—I rip the pill from my pocket and step into the bathroom, immediately flushing it down the toilet before melting to the floor, my back against the wall.
My breaths are shaky, all energy gone. I lean my head back against the gray-tiled wall as Declan sits beside me.
“I wasn’t going to take it,” I whisper after a few tense moments of silence.
“Glad to hear it. You wanna talk about why you kept it, then?” he asks just as softly. Before my head even moves, he’s jumping in. “If you aren’t gonna talk to me, talk to Kristen.”
A mix of anxiety, irritation, and guilt swirls in my gut. Another instance of small-town life coming to bite me in the ass since his wife is the only mental health professional within a thirty-mile radius.
“Declan, no. I’m not talking to your wife about this.”
“Either talk to her, talk to me, or we talk to mom and dad together.”
“That’s messed up.”
“So is hiding pills.”
I shake my head, running calloused fingers through my mess of black hair. “Mom doesn’t need the worry, and Dad can’t know. He’d pull me from the training rides, and I need the saddle time. Please.” I’m not above begging. I’d drop to my knees if I wasn’t already on the bathroom floor.
I can’t lose the extra rides, the freedom. I just got back in the saddle a month ago and am still dealing with limitations and lack of strength in core areas. I need both the adrenaline high and the mental stillness those four-legged creatures provide.
Declan sighs. “Okay, Kristen said she’ll be waiting on you first thing tomorrow.”
Incredulous, I stare at him. “You already talked to her.”
He nods, unashamed.
I curse.
“She was with me when Jace called. But that brings me to why I was already on my way out the door to talk to you. Now, though, I’m questioning if I should even tell you.”
“What, it wasn’t just a wellness check?” I joke, but the humor falls flat as I take in my brother’s expression. “What, man?”
“Did Leila ever contact you?”
I shrug. “She left a voicemail or two. A text here and there. I never listened to them. Why?”
He stares at me, and I think I’m going to have to press him for the information, but the look he gives me halts me in my tracks.
“Leila and Gavin came in a day early. Along with her seven-week-old daughter. Your daughter, Drew.”