by K. A. Finn
He slumps forward and rests his head on the steering wheel. The last hour had been spent with his sponsor. Tate had called him as soon as he was released, and it was the best decision he’s made for a while. Better than calling Eddie which came a too close second. He doesn’t doubt that if Eddie appeared like his Fairy Godmother in the car park he would have happily taken anything and everything he was offered.
The urge to use had died down but he’s calling on everything he has left to keep it under control. Just a shame he’s running on empty. He barely has enough energy to get out of the damn truck. At least if he’s here he’s got a house full of people who will be watching him like a hawk.
He catches movement behind his truck and looks in the rear view mirror. Chloe is standing outside the shed with her arms wrapped around herself. She looks just as shattered as he feels. No point putting this off. Tate climbs out and locks the truck. Not that locking it means a damn thing. Someone had still managed to get into it and fuck him over.
She pulls him into a hug, the feel of her arms wrapping tightly around him is just what he needs right now. When she lets him go he rests his forehead against hers. ‘Are you okay?’
She laughs and rubs the side of his face. ‘I was just about to ask you that.’
‘Can we go inside? I need to talk to you.’ She takes his hand and he follows her into the house to face Ellen, Bria, Gregg, Dillon, and Luke. ‘Having a party without me?’
‘I thought it was prudent to keep the four of you under the one roof until we know what’s going on,’ Ellen explains.
He pushes past his sister and Gregg and collapses on the couch with Chloe beside him.
‘What happened?’ Ellen asks before anyone else can get the question out.
‘I’ve been charged with possession. They found drugs in the glove box of my truck apparently. I’m in court in a few days. It wasn’t a lot, not enough to get me for intent to supply so my lawyer reckons I’ll get a fine.’
‘Could it be worse than a fine?’ Chloe asks.
‘Yeah, it could.’ Tate looks up at his friends. ‘I’m innocent by the way or does that even matter?’
Gregg stands up and paces in front of the fireplace. ‘They found drugs, Tate. In your truck. They didn’t just magically appear.’
‘Are you using again?’ Dillon asks.
He glares over at Dillon. ‘No fucking way. They did a test on me. I’m clean. I’ll get you a copy of the results if you want.’ He looks around at the people in the room. Each one of them is like family to him – Chloe included. Of all the people in his life these are the ones he can depend on. The fact that not one of them is looking him in the eye hits like a punch in the gut. ‘You think the heroin was mine.’
Gregg stops pacing and crosses his arms. ‘The Garda aren’t in the habit of planting drugs in cars for a laugh. If you didn’t put them there who did?’
‘If I knew do you not think I’d have said something? Having a fucking criminal record wasn’t on my to-do-list. I could be facing time for this so I guarantee I would have told them if I knew. I’m telling the truth. I’m not using again.’
Gregg glances up at him and raises his eyebrows.
‘Oh I get it. You think because I got drunk the next step is using again.’
Dillon, Luke, and Ellen all target Tate. Ellen pushes to her feet and stands in front of him. ‘You’ve been drinking?’
‘Once, okay.’
She narrows her gaze then laughs harshly. ‘Stomach bug. I knew there was something off about that. You never get sick. So, you stood me up because you were drunk. That’s great, Tate. How much? Stop glaring at me. You’ve come this far. Might as well spill the beans.’
‘A bottle of rum.’
Ellen rubs her forehead and turns away from him. Dillon stands beside Gregg and mirrors his pissed off stance. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?’
‘Because I’m on top of it again, Dillon.’
‘Yeah, it looks that way. You’re a fucking mess.’
‘Please just fuck off. I’m tired.’
Dillon grabs him by the arm and pushes him back a step. ‘No mate. I’m not going to fuck off. This is my life you’re messing up too. Jesus, Tate. We’ve been working our arses off trying to get this album done. Why did we bother? What the fuck have we been putting in all the hours for? We could have ditched it and got smashed with you.’
‘Dillon, back off a little.’
‘No, Gregg. He needs to hear this. When he fucks up he drags us down with him. Are you using again?’
‘I already said I’m not.’
‘But you’ve been tempted.’
‘Of course I have. I just spent an hour with my sponsor before coming back here. I’m dealing with-’
Dillon snorts loudly. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. You’re dealing with it. That’s all you keep saying. How was getting pissed dealing, huh?’
Ellen steps up and tries to get between them. ‘Okay, you both need to calm down. This isn’t helping.’
Tate ignores her attempt to break them up. Right now the holier-than-thou expression on Dillon’s face is hitting a raw nerve. ‘Don’t you dare fucking judge me, Dillon. You were just as deep into it as I was so don’t look at me that way.’
‘The difference is I didn’t end up in hospital being resuscitated.’ Dillon wipes a hand over his face as he glowers across at Tate. ‘We lost you, Tate, so that judging look is actually me giving a fuck about you. None of us are keen to go through that again with you. You promised you’d talk. You promised you’d follow the rules. Before you opened that bottle you should have called any one of us. So why didn’t you?’
Tate’s gone head-to-head with Dillon too many times over the years, but there’s something about this time that feels different. Dillon takes a step closer to him and Tate instinctively backs away, bumping against the mantlepiece. Usually he’d push back. That’s what they do. Dillon pushes. He pushes. They’re broken up by the others and it’s out of their system. But Tate suddenly can’t get his mouth to work, let alone his limbs to push back.
He looks at Dillon and the image distorts. Instead of his parents’ living room with his friends, he’s in the sparsely furnished room with the man looming over him again. When the shouting starts he hears Dillon’s voice, but then it’s his father. He closes his eyes as the memory and reality merge to well and truly fuck with his head.
‘Tate? Are you even listening?’
He opens his eyes and Dillon is back.
‘Am I boring you?’
Tate doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He barely breathes as he presses himself against the wall beside the fireplace, trying to make himself as small as possible. His racing heartbeat pounds in his ears, drowning out everything else.
A small part of his brain knows he’s safe and in his parents’ house, but right now that’s not the part the rest of him believes... or trusts. More people come closer, crowding him, making breathing nearly impossible. Nausea and dizziness threaten to bring him to the ground, but he forces himself to remain motionless.
‘Tate?’
He slowly raises his eyes to look at the person in front of him and his stomach drops. His father is looming over him, a cold look in his eyes and blood on his fists. He takes a step closer, and Tate buries his head under his arms.
‘Please don’t. I’m sorry.’
His father’s voice dies away, leaving him listening to his racing heart again. When the expected blow doesn’t come, Tate slowly drops his arms.
His eyes dart from Chloe to Dillon and then to Gregg, Ellen, Bria, and Luke, now standing beside the couch staring over at him.
He focuses on Chloe again, hating the look of pity on her face. ‘Are you okay?’
Tate licks his lips and forces his head to tip in a half convincing nod.
He looks over at Dillon but can’t meet his eyes. Dillon’s face has lost all trace of colour. ‘I’m sorry, Tate. I wasn’t going to hit you.’
Tate shakes h
is head at Dillon. ‘Ignore me. I’m just tired.’
Nothing like a beyond stupid statement to kill whatever dignity he has left after that display.
‘I’m going to grab a shower.’ Without waiting for an acknowledgment he steps into the annex off the living room and comes to a stop in the middle of the room.
He can’t believe he just zoned out like that in front of everyone. He made his friend think he was scared of him. If Dillon thought he wasn’t dealing with everything, that display would have done nothing to prove him wrong. Fuck knows what he must be thinking.
The door opens and closes behind him.
‘Is Dillon okay?’
‘He’s fine,’ Chloe replies as she steps around to face him. ‘Are you okay?’
He opens his mouth then frowns and closes it again. ‘I... Dillon... I thought he was my father.’ He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. ‘Fuck! I have to apologise.’
She pulls his hands away from his face. ‘Dillon is fine. Lie down on the bed with me for a minute. Please.’ Tate doesn’t have the energy to argue so does as he’s told. He shuffles closer so she can gather him in her arms.
‘I’m just really fucking tired, Chloe.’
She places her hand on the side of his face and he closes his eyes. He’s not talking about needing a few hours of sleep. This goes much deeper. Every single time life goes right for him lately, something rears its ugly head and pulls him back down again.
He’s winning. Whoever is doing this to him is slowly breaking him down. Tate can’t keep doing this. He’s already teetering on the edge. If this dickhead pushes him once more, he seriously doubts he’ll be able to get up again.
He lies against Chloe’s chest, listening to her heartbeat as she runs her fingers through his hair, holding him tight until he finally drifts off to sleep.
28
When Chloe wakes she’s alone and, from the feel of the bed beside her, she’s been alone for a few hours. She showers quickly and gets dressed. There’s no sign of Tate in the living room or the kitchen so she goes outside and walks around the back of the house. She finds him leaning on a stable door talking to Jove.
‘Does he have any words of wisdom?’
Tate turns around to face her and makes a face. ‘If he does he’s keeping quiet.’ Jove lifts his head over the door and rests it against Tate’s chest. ‘Thought about taking him out for a bit but I’d be sorely tempted to keep heading down the beach and not come back. That was a joke by the way. I’m not planning on doing a runner. I don’t think it would help.’
She rubs Jove’s head. ‘No. It’s not like you can hide. You sort of stand out.’
‘Guess I’m screwed then.’ He smiles to take the sting out of his words, but he’s right. There’s no escaping or running from this.
‘Have you seen Dillon?’
‘Yeah. I apologised to him before I came out here.’
‘What did you say to him?’
Tate makes a face and looks out towards the sea. ‘Just that I’m remembering shit from my past and I freaked out. He’s fine with me, but it shouldn’t have happened.’
They both look around as Ellen walks over to them. ‘That’s not a happy face.’
‘No, Tate. I’m afraid it’s not. I need to speak to you both inside.’ She turns and walks briskly back towards the house.
Chloe holds out her hand and he looks at it for a minute before he reaches out and takes it. ‘Knew I should have rode off into the distance.’
When they get back to the house Ellen is sitting at the kitchen table, her hands clasped in front of her. Tate sits opposite her and Chloe next to him. The feeling of dread is weighing heavily on her. Something has happened and it’s far from good. ‘I’ve asked the others to give us a minute so I can talk to you in private.’
‘What is it?’
‘As you know the press are all over this story. You’ve made the front pages today - which isn’t a surprise. Unfortunately there’s also a video of your arrest on the net.’
‘What? Who the fuck recorded that?’
‘We don’t know. It shows them taking you out of the studio and putting you in the back of a Garda car. The video is decent quality. There’s no denying who it is I’m afraid. It’s not looking good, Tate. We’ll do what we can to diffuse the situation, but social media is already running rife with comments about you relapsing.
‘Now, my team are working on a few possible statements we can make about it, whether you like it or not. It’s not just your career on the rocks, Tate. Dillon, Gregg, and Luke deserve for you to take this seriously.’
‘You think this is some joke to me?’
‘I need you to take a few deep breaths, Tate. I’m on your side, but we need to own this before the press blows it out of all proportion. Anyway, before we even get to that I’m afraid there’s another problem.’
Tate laughs harshly as he pushes to his feet. ‘Of course there is. Go for it.’ He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and leans against the counter. Ellen opens a file and passes him a piece of paper. Tate reads it and his expression darkens.
‘What is it?’ Chloe asks, even though she’s not so sure she wants to know.
Tate ignores her and addresses Ellen instead. ‘Is this legit?’
‘I’m afraid so. It’ll be out tomorrow.’
‘Fuck!’ Tate scrubs his hand through his hair and looks like he’d happily kill something. Chloe takes the page from his hand and reads what she now sees is a mock-up of a newspaper article. ‘‘Rehab Love.’’ I don’t understand?’
‘Read the rest,’ Ellen says as Tate continues to glare at a tile on the floor.
‘Tate Archer appears to have finally found love with school teacher Chloe Quinn. The couple met while they attended a drug rehabilitation facility at the same time a few months ago.’
She reads the words again and again, but they don’t change.
‘Oh my God. They actually say I’m a recovering heroin addict.’ Chloe looks up at Tate but he’s still glaring at the floor, so she turns to Ellen. ‘You can stop this, right?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘But you have to. I’m a teacher. If they think for one second this is true, my career is over. It’s a lie. They can’t print it if it’s a lie.’
‘There’s no way of stopping it, Chloe. They may be willing to print a retraction the following day, but this is going out. Tate... well, he’s big news, especially after yesterday. There’s so much speculation about what happened anything that gives the reporters the slightest hint of a story, they’ll grab it. I’m so sorry, Chloe.’
‘No. You have to do something. Tate? Please say you can stop this.’
Tate finally looks up from the floor but doesn’t say anything. He won’t even look her in the eye and that pisses her off.
‘Look at me!’ Still nothing so she gets up and stands in front of him. ‘So you’re not even going to look at me now?’
Instead of replying he scratches his arm. It’s the first time she’s seen him do that for weeks. She grabs his hand. ‘Stop that and look at me.’ He lifts his head but she can’t read anything in his expression. ‘Help me. What can I do? There has to be some way of stopping this. What can I do?’
He shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’
Chloe drops his hand and takes a step back. ‘Nothing? You mean to tell me my boss, all the parents of my students, all my friends, my family are going to read an article saying I’m an addict?’
‘Chloe—’
‘But hey! What am I worried about?’ she says, feeling a little hysterical. ‘I got to meet superstar Tate Archer while I was there. That’ll make up for having no job and no future!’
That gets a reaction, but not the one she wanted. His dark eyes target her. ‘You’re not the only one who’s just had their career pulled out from under them. I’m facing seven years, Chloe!’
‘The big difference is you did it to yourself. You made the choice to fuck up your career. I didn�
�t! My only mistake was—’ Chloe hates herself the second the words come out of her mouth, but she’s furious. At him. At the situation. At everything. She knows she’s rammed her fist into his chest by the look on his face, but at that moment, her career is the one she’s worried about.
‘Your only mistake was what?’
Chloe doesn’t know where they came from but the guys appear and put themselves between Tate and Chloe.
‘Calm down, mate.’ Gregg tries to get Tate’s attention, but he’s refusing to break eye contact with Chloe.
‘Your only mistake was what?’
Ellen takes Chloe’s arm and leads her into the living room. Chloe looks back at Tate but she can barely see him behind Luke and Gregg who are trying to talk him down.
Ellen closes the door and takes a long breath. ‘Sorry about dragging you away, but I need to talk to you without all that drama.’
‘I can’t believe I just said that to him.’
‘He’ll be fine. I’m worried about you right now. You’re collateral damage and I’m going to do whatever I can to help you. You can trust me, okay? I’ve been dealing with Tate since he was signed. I know what I’m doing.’
Chloe nods, but doesn’t feel reassured in any way. She’s worried about Tate, but right now he comes second to this story being released.
∞
Tate pulls open the door and storms out to his truck. Chloe went for a walk about ten minutes ago. Can’t blame her for wanting to get away from him. At least Bria and Luke had tagged along too in case she ran into any unwanted media attention. As much as he’d like to chase after her and sort things out, he’s not in the right frame of mind. He’s fucking furious and until he gets that under control he’s best to keep away from everyone.
They’re all going to lose it with him, but he needs to get away for half an hour. Tate reverses out of the shed and his tyres spin on the gravel as he accelerates away. Chloe’s words are on constant fucking replay in his head and he can’t shut them off. It didn’t help that she was right. He had made the choice to risk his career and his life months ago. She didn’t. All she had done was spend time with him. And how had he repaid her? By tearing a huge fucking hole in her life. Great way to show someone you love them.