The Crash Zone (The Zone Series Book 2)

by Tarrah Anders

  “He was a smooth talker and very generous on Friday. He bought several rounds and he did seem to eye fuck Tatum most of the night, even from across the bar.” Sammie recalls.

  “That he is.”

  We finish our lunch making random small talk. I finish my sandwich and excuse myself with a good 15 minutes before I have recess duty. I place a call to Dane and arrange to meet him after work to head over to the hotel.

  Using my browser on my cell phone, I bring up the search term of in-patient rehab clinics. I call a few and finally find one that will take Max in tomorrow morning. It’s a nice spot along the coast and all I can hope now is that he will accept this help. I’m willing to try anything at this point and I think with the recent accident, he’s gone over the deep end, and will hopefully not see my offer as anything other than caring about him.

  ***

  Dane is standing against the bumper of his car as I pull into the guest parking space next to him.

  “Front desk gave me his room number, but we won’t need it. He’s sitting at the outdoor bar by the pool.” Dane said.

  “Cool. How do we play this?” I ask nervously.

  “Honestly, I have no idea. He may not like that we’re here, especially since he’s made no attempts to contact either of us. It could go a few ways, he will be angry to see us or he can be annoyed to see us. Depending on how drunk he is right now, or he could kick us out. Even at his drunkest though, he’s a reasonable guy, he’ll hopefully listen. ” Dane explains.

  “I’ve got him a spot at a rehab facility up the coast for tomorrow morning. I tried for tonight, but I couldn’t arrange that on such short notice. He’ll be pissed at that, but I’m hoping that he sees it differently, and then he’ll be pissed that we found him. I hate this.” I rub my hand over my face in frustration.

  “Should we somehow get him up to his room?” Dane asks.

  “Fuck if I know. Probably, to save him the embarrassment in case someone overhears.” I reply.

  “How did you know he was here anyways?”

  “My co-workers met him on Friday night.” I supplied leaving out the details that Max hooked up with one of them. Not my story to tell.

  “Let’s do this before we lose the nerve.” Dane clasps my shoulder and we begin walking.

  We walk up to the front desk and ask the receptionist to let Max know he has guests at the front desk. Hopefully from there, we can steer him in the direction of his hotel room.

  Moments pass and eventually Max stumbles through the double doors with a fruity drink in his hand. He’s dressed in board shorts and a t-shirt, aviator sunglasses and flip flops. His face falls when he sees that it’s us and probably not some girls that he may have met during his stay here.

  “Well, not who I was expecting. What the hell are you guys doing here?” He slurs angrily.

  “How you been buddy?” Dane takes the lead, thankfully.

  “Eh you know, I’ve been better. What brings you to this fine establishment?” He’s acting like he hasn’t been missing for so many days.

  “We’ve been looking for you, worried about you.” I clarify.

  “Ah yes. I’ve been vacationing, my phone is dead, and I’ve wanted nothing to do with anyone, still don’t. Care for a drink?” He motions to the area behind him.

  “No thanks, let’s go up to your room, where it’s more private.” Dane insists motioning to the elevators.

  “If you insist, let me grab a drink.” He slurs.

  “You’ve already got one buddy.” I say.

  “My ice has melted.” He turns and walks to the bar. At the bar, he leaves his current colorful drink atop the bar and flags the bartender. He orders his usual 3 fingers of scotch and we walk to the elevators. We enter his hotel room on one of the upper floors and both Dane and I whistle at appreciation for the quality of his room.

  “Nice Suite.” Dane says.

  “Yeah, so what do you guys want?” He asks gesturing to the seating area.

  “You don’t call, you don’t write…” Dane starts as he takes a seat in one of the chairs. I follow and sit down as well.

  “I needed a vacation. I need to be away.” He shrugs.

  “Dude. You were wasted the last time we saw you. Dane put you in the shower and to bed, and then the next morning, you vanished. Then a week goes by and no word from you. We’ve been losing our shit.” I seem to have started to whine, not wanting to pussyfoot around the subject any more.

  Max’s glazed stare blazes through me. Then he quickly diverts his eyes as if he’s been shamed like a dog after my words have likely sunk in.

  “A simple phone call to let us know you were fine would have eliminated so much. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot of shit, and I know its sucked balls, but you have us to talk to. Sterling would bend over backwards to talk to you if you would let her, she’s just as worried as we are. I don’t want to make you feel any worse than you could possibly feel, but we both want you to know we worry about you and we care.”

  Max sits down on the loveseat facing us. He sets his drink down, but keeps his eyes locked on the glass.

  “I don’t want to talk about it or think about it. I want to forget it.” He mumbles.

  “The booze and the chicks?” I ask.

  “It gives me a temporary memory replacement. Changes reality for a brief period of time.” He sounds helpless as he describes his thoughts on how he’s been coping and I realize that he is telling us why he’s been drinking the way he has.

  “Do you want to change that? Or do you want to stay in this endless cycle?” Dane asks. Damn, he’s good! And to the point!

  “Right now, I don’t know any other way to forget.” Max admits.

  “You don’t need to forget, but you gotta move on. I know everything has sucked, but you can’t quit. Betsy would never have wanted you to quit, she was your perfect cheerleader man, she wanted nothing but the best for you.”

  “She was the best for me. I wanted to marry her, I wanted to make little Betsy’s with her. I wanted what you and Sterling have.” Max pushes his face into his hands and takes a deep breath.

  I move over to sit next to him and place my hand on his back. We sat in silence for several minutes while I got my thoughts together. The next piece of information can go several different ways.

  “Max, if you’re willing to accept it, I have something to offer you.” I start as Max looks at me through his fingers. “Tomorrow morning, I have a spot for you ready at a nearby clinic.”

  “Like rehab?” He asks as I nod my head. “No, I don’t need rehab. I’m alright.”

  “It’s a nice one, on the cliffs. We think it may be the best thing for you right now. I hate seeing you like this. As mushy and un-manlike it sounds - I miss my brother.”

  Max nods. “I don’t need rehab or any facility. I’m alright. Besides rehab, it also asks for me to be sober which impacts you guys.”

  “Bullshit excuse, but go on.” Dane plays it straight.

  “We can’t go out for drinks, can’t keep booze around the house and stuff like that.” He says.

  “Look man, people don’t necessarily need a drink to have fun. It will be different, but it will be a good thing. It’s not something that will be difficult for anyone nor is it a determining factor when you care about your friends. Answer this, do you want to keep drinking? Do you enjoy it?” Dane asks.

  “I drink, like I said to forget and to not feel. Do I enjoy it, I think I do sometimes. Other times, it’s more of an obligation. I feel like I need to drink to deal. It helps me get through the day, avoid the nightmares, to not have to remember. But I don’t need to go somewhere to get control of myself and stop drinking. Who says I even want to stop?”

  “You don’t need to forget. You were dealt a shitty hand. But you are still alive, you can still carry her memory if that’s what you want. You don’t need to rely on drinking though to do that.” I say slightly worried that we’re pushing too hard and asking too much too soon.

&
nbsp; There’s a slight knock on the door. We all turn our heads to the door.

  “That would be… um some chick that was here recently. That’s who I thought you guys were when you first showed up. Sorry, give me a second to break her heart.” He attempts to joke to calm himself as he gets up and answers the door.

  I see a slender tanned arm reach for him and pull him to her, she’s just out of sight that we can’t see her. Max says something quietly to her and then he’s shutting the door and returning to the loveseat.

  He sits down and his expression is contemplative. No one says anything, in fear to break Max’s thoughts.

  “I know something needs to change. Am I acknowledging that, yes. Am I embracing it, not quite. I’ll fully admit to you right now, I’m not sober and I haven’t been not really since I drove over to this hotel, and even though I was probably still drunk from when you guys put me to sleep that night. So yeah, I will acknowledge that I have a problem.” He then turns to me. “I don’t want you, either of you to have to worry about me. I don’t agree with you that I need to go into a rehab place. I don’t think that I need it and I don’t want it.”

  “Max, we need you at the office. But we can’t have you there when you’re like this.” Dane says.

  “So either I go into rehab or I’m... what…. bought out of our company, the company that I helped build?” Max asks angrily.

  “I don’t want that to happen. But I can’t have you at the office drinking, or I can’t depend on you to be present, when you haven’t been. I want you to be the guy you used to be.”

  “That guy is gone Dane! This is who I am now!” He roars standing up.

  “It’s not. You know that and we know that.” Dane argues back.

  “What does it matter?” Max grabs the glass he placed down and gulps the remainder of the drink, then throw the glass against the wall.

  Overcome with emotion, I hug my brother and I hug him hard.

  “I need my brother. I. Want. Him. Back!” I whisper to him annunciating each word.

  Max tries to push me away, but my grasp wasn’t letting up. Max began to tremble and I hugged him harder.

  “Alright.” He says sounding defeated. “I’ll do it and fuck you for using the brother card.”

  During our embrace, Dane has stood up and took note of the bottles, the numerous large bottles along the bar top.

  “Are these yours or the hotels?” Dane asks.

  “They’re mine. The mini ones are the hotels.” Max said standing and walking to Dane. Dane hesitates to pour a bottle out and looks to Max. He hands Max the bottle to have him make this decision.

  I hold my breath as Max grasps the bottle by the neck. He walks to Dane’s side in front of the sink and tips the bottle upside down. Relieved, I step up to the other side of the bar.

  Several silent moments pass the three of us.

  “I have a question.” Max starts looking between Dane and myself.

  “Did you guys dump the alcohol in the house?” He asks.

  “I did, while Dane showered you.” I reply.

  Max smiles. “Phew, I had thought that I drank it all, granted I left the house and bought more alcohol, but I thought I drank all of the bottles in that cupboard.”

  I smiled at him, it looked like he had a panicked moment of drinking too much.

  “Another question.” Max starts as Dane and myself look at him awaiting for him to finish.

  “Why was I naked when I woke up that night?”

  Chapter 11 – Max

  The first few weeks of rehab was hard. I felt like I was a teenager and was at camp, a fancy camp where you talked about your feelings and the demons that chased you or caused you to drink that overlooked the Pacific Ocean, but still a camp. I struggled for the first few days pretty bad, I went through the shakes and pretty much cried like a baby to sleep. I’m nearly 4 weeks in and 2 days left to go and I’m feeling more solid than I did before. I haven’t had any contact with anyone since the morning that Davis dropped me off. Rather than take only two weeks, I signed up for 4 weeks to make sure that I continued my sobriety. It’s been said that if you do something for 21+ days in a row, it becomes a habit, so I’m giving it a full month for the extra push. My desire to drink isn’t as strong as it was before, but I can sense a small piece of it lingering somewhere within me.

  I realize that sobriety would be an on-going thing, but I wanted to create that pattern before I attempted reality.

  I want my friends and family to see that I can be strong enough, even though parts of me feel like they’ve already crumbled. I’m granted phone calls, but I’ve refused to make any or take any. I need this time to be able to fix myself. To be truthful, while I know that this was probably the best thing for me, I’m a little angry with Davis for setting this up prior to even talking to me, which is ironic because I was on a week-long drinking binge.

  I’ve meditated and talked in groups about everything that has plagued my life within the past year and half. While I’ve struggled immensely with the loss of Betsy, I’ve managed to look at losing her and falling from my own grace as a lesson in life to learn from experiences rather than have experiences control who you are.

  While I’m surrounded by other recovering addicts, I haven’t tried to befriend any of the other people living in this Cliffside oasis except for a guy named Leo, who is a few years older than I am.

  He and I share a loss of a loved one, his sister and from that we’ve drawn strength from one another. He’s doing a 6 month stint in this place and this would be his final month. Meaning, we’ll both be setting off into the unknown at around the same time. His fiancé dropped him off here at rehab at his request in order to continue with their relationship and plans of marriage.

  “Are you nervous at all about being outside this place?” Leo asks as we are sitting poolside on our lounge chairs.

  “Yes and no. If we’re being honest. I’m afraid that I will get home and have the urge to walk down to one of the bars, or that I’ll have a flashback of Betsy doing something small and that will drive me to drink like it usually did.”

  “The flashbacks? Were they bad?” He asks.

  “They weren’t bad, but they were a reminder that she wasn’t there anymore.” I admitted. Sometimes though, I would avoid them by drinking.

  We sat in silence for a bit before either of us spoke again. When we did, it was Leo again.

  “I’m afraid that I’ll find one of my hidden stashes. I kept them all around my house, inside and out. My fiancé, Judy is always good at finding things, so I’m hoping that she combs the house by the time Friday comes, just in case.” He says.

  “Did you tell her where they all were?”

  “That’s the problem, I don’t know where they all are. I was really good hiding things when I was drinking, that’s why rehab was the final straw. I would say I was sober, kicked it cold turkey, then I would come across a bottle I had hidden and the next thing I knew I was shit-faced. Judy wasn’t a fan, so instead of my way of quitting, she gave me the ultimatum.”

  “Do you think that you guys will be different, like your relationship?”

  “I hope not. I’m scared of that to be honest. Maybe she won’t think I’m fun anymore, or that she will no long love me.”

  Again we were silent, our conversations usually weren’t so solemn but we’re both scared shitless that we’ll rebound back.

  “When we get out of here, we should do meetings together.” I smile.

  “I think that would be a good idea. I got your back dude.” Leo smiles.

  “And I yours.”

  ***

  I wasn’t expecting Sterling to be standing beside her car waiting for me when I emerged from rehab, but I couldn’t have been happier. When she saw me walking down the steps, she had the same smile that she had on her wedding day, plastered on her face. She is genuinely glad to see me and for that I know rehab was a good choice. She pushed off the side of the car and met me halfway and pulled me into a hug.
I don’t know how long we stood like that for, but it made all my potential reservations of coming back to the real world so much better.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I picked you up.” Sterling stated opening the trunk of her car.

  I placed my bag in the trunk and turned to her.

  “I think it’s the most fitting. Before we go to my house, do you mind grabbing a quick bite?” I ask. I wanted to talk to her, to apologize, to just listen to her and let her talk to me. Something that while I was in rehab I came to the conclusion that I should have been doing all along.

  “Sure, I’ll have to let the guys know. They wanted to order in and celebrate you being home.” She smiles pulling out her phone. She quickly texts something and then pockets the phone and looks up at me and crooks her head to our respective sides to get in.

  We stopped off at a dingy diner that had a sign in the window stating they had the best fries in the world.

  Of course, I had ordered the fries with my burger and a strawberry milkshake as she ordered a piece of pie and water. We sat quietly for a minute, neither of us knowing how to start.

  I then cleared my throat and dove right in.

  “I did a lot of talking during rehab. A lot of things that I had never said out loud and a lot of those things should have been things that I had said or talked to you about.” I started.

  Sterling nodded, and I saw her prepare herself.

  “Betsy meant everything to me. And she meant everything to me, because of you. You were the factor that brought us together, and I failed as a friend to acknowledge that you were hurting just as much as I was. Instead I was a selfish prick who thought that I was the only one who lost her. And for that, I’m incredibly sorry. I can’t take that back, nor can I take my behavior back, but I’m sorry. I’ve never lost someone like that to me before, and while I know there’s no certain way that everyone reacts, I know that I reacted like a shit friend.” I breathed out.