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Rock Bottom (Bullet)

Page 9

by Jade C. Jamison

He ran his tongue along his upper teeth and made sure she was looking in his eyes. “I can do that. I’m seeing a psychologist. I’m taking meds from my psychiatrist. I’m coming to Soaring Free once a week.” His voice dropped. “No offense, but I don’t need your counseling.”

  God, was that cute…the way she tried to look offended but couldn’t quite pull it off. He raised his eyebrows and her expression softened. “I can’t...I won’t be a stumbling block in your progress.”

  “Who ever said we couldn’t do this together?”

  She drew in a breath and then stopped. Whatever words she was going to use had escaped her. And he used that moment of vulnerability as an excuse to kiss her again, this time more firmly, with more conviction.

  He could taste her tears but there was more. She was so sweet and soft, and he loved that she was responding in spite of her words. He loved how her hands were gripping the back of his t-shirt as though she were hanging on for dear life. It told him more than her words ever would. But he didn’t want her to later on feel like he’d encouraged her to do something she wasn’t comfortable with, so he ended the kiss but he didn’t let go.

  She was at a loss for words; he could tell that much. “We…shouldn’t, Ethan. You’re fragile right now.”

  He couldn’t help the slight grin that was creeping up on his face. “I don’t seem to be holding up too bad. You, on the other hand…”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “What you said affected me more deeply than I would have expected.”

  “Then maybe I should seek help elsewhere. I mean that.” He could tell from the look on her face that she was getting ready to protest. “If you’re on the verge of a breakdown every time I share something…”

  “No. That won’t happen again.”

  He shook his head. “No…it’s final.” He searched her eyes again. “Unless you need the money.”

  “Oh, no, that’s…” Her voice drifted off.

  “What?”

  She closed her mouth, her eyes focused on his chin. Then she met his eyes again and said, “Maybe that would be for the best.” Ethan smiled. “But don’t think that means this is going anywhere.” She wriggled out of his arms and he let her. She could say what she wanted, but he’d seen it in her eyes. It was just a matter of time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  AS THE WEEKS drifted by, Ethan felt stronger and stronger. He didn’t think the meds were doing a goddamn thing, though, and he told Dr. Thomas that. In fact, he felt as though they were making him even more depressed. In the meantime, he went to group faithfully and saw his psychologist once a week. Jenna kept her distance and made sure the two of them were never alone together. Ethan knew why…she was scared of her feelings for him. And he was okay with that. She would warm to him—he was confident of that.

  He shared some at group but didn’t go into the heavy stuff anymore. He was saving the hard stuff for the psychologist nowadays, the guy he paid to listen. The group meetings were voluntary, and he started wondering why Jenna did them for free. What was she getting out of it?

  It didn’t matter, though. He was committed to getting better, and he could see the results every day.

  He’d been thinking a lot about his son Chris. He missed that kid. He hadn’t seen him in months. At first, Ethan knew, it had been for the best. He’d been in bad shape—hooked on the junk and he’d looked like shit. Pale, pasty-looking skin, overweight, with a scruffy beard and dark circles under his eyes. But he’d grown healthier after spending time in rehab. His body was back where it should be. He’d started lifting weights to get back in shape and physically, he looked and felt much better. Mentally, though…that’s where he needed all the work.

  Still, he missed Chris and wondered if Val would even agree to let him see his kid. Ethan had done some hurtful things lately, had lashed out, because he himself had felt hurt, abandoned, betrayed, but just a month spent talking about it, really reflecting on it helped him start to understand why Val didn’t want to be with him anymore.

  He picked up the phone. If he wanted to see his son, he’d have to stop being a bastard. He needed to tell his lawyer to stop trying for full custody. He needed to be agreeable, needed to accept that Valerie had moved on and was probably happier without him. So he called his lawyer and got the secretary. She asked if she could take a message and he said, “Yeah. Just tell Becker I need to talk to him.”

  “He’s quite busy today, Mr. Richards.”

  “Just give him the message.” He hung up and laughed in spite of himself. It really was a trip how lots of people bent over backwards to keep him happy. He knew it was immature to enjoy it so much, but when it came to his lawyer, he didn’t mind it.

  Even more than wanting to see Chris, though, Ethan was starting to feel a familiar itch—the need to create, to make music. He was almost afraid of picking up a guitar, though. He wanted to be sure he was free of any addictive associations. His psychologist kept telling him to just get started…but Ethan wasn’t ready. He often wondered if he would ever be able to return to music. He had to, though. Music had been a part of his life longer than the drugs had been.

  He thought about his bandmates then, men who’d been a part of his life for longer than his son and wife—Brad, in particular. Brad was like his brother and the two of them hadn’t spoken for a while. The day Ethan had completely lost it and choked Valerie, Brad had come by later that night to ask him what the fuck was wrong with him. And then his best friend had beaten the shit out of him. Ethan let him, silently prayed that he’d beat him to death. He didn’t put up a fight. He felt guilty for hurting Valerie, almost injuring his son’s mother beyond recovery; more than that, though, he didn’t want to live anymore. There was the guilt, yes, but there was the pain of addiction, of never being able to say no, of not being able to walk away. He loathed himself, hated himself to the core for never being able to walk away. Heroin was a needy lover, and she pulled him back hard every time. He couldn’t think about her, couldn’t look at her, couldn’t go a day without touching her. And he didn’t want to anymore, hadn’t wanted to for so long. He’d never tell anyone, but that time in Spokane…they’d been on tour, and he’d just had enough. He’d had tears in his eyes as he’d pulled the liquid into the syringe. The plan was death by overdose. That would be a spectacular death for a musician. Sure, it was cliché, but all the musicians who’d ever died that way were loved and respected for their contribution to music. He knew life would never get any better. He’d never be more popular, never be more respected than he was then, so why not just end it?

  But goddamned Brad saved his life again.

  And when he woke up to Valerie and his son, he knew he had to try life. The look in her eyes made him want to.

  He wasn’t strong enough, though. He’d never had the strength, and every time he thought he could leave it behind, he’d feel the past haunting him, the memories he wanted to run away from, hide from, and H was one of the few ways he knew how to escape.

  They were all chemical, yes, but heroin was the best.

  He took a deep breath and walked up the stairs to his apartment after his walk. He’d found walks helped him clear his mind, something he never would have considered even a year ago. It was one of the things they’d suggested in rehab. Of course, bubble baths were another suggestion, but that one that made Ethan laugh. The only way he’d get in a bubble bath was if a hot woman was already in it. Walks, though…they had a way of helping him think things through so he could let them go.

  Tonight was his seventh or eighth group session. He wasn’t sure. He’d lost count. But he was going to ask Jenna to go out with him again. He had kept his promise, that he wouldn’t go to counseling with her anymore. He couldn’t. He didn’t need her looking at him as weak and vulnerable, but more than that, he didn’t want her to use that as an excuse to not give him a try. There had been something magic in that kiss. He wouldn’t tell her that, but it was true. He felt a connection to her and that kiss had cemented it. Add to tha
t, he knew she’d felt the same way and was just denying it. So he planned to try it again.

  He had a couple of tickets to a hot local metal band playing at The Bluebird tomorrow night, and he knew who he wanted to accompany him…and he didn’t plan to take no for an answer. If she really meant it, yeah, he would, but he would be a hard sell.

  If she really didn’t want to go, he’d take Jay. Or maybe no one. He didn’t know if he was ready to hang with another former junkie. He needed to protect himself. So, if Jenna really, really, really didn’t want to go with him, maybe he’d give both tickets to Jay…and once again figure out a way to go on living.

  * * *

  Jenna felt like such a chicken shit. That’s because she was. That kiss with Ethan weeks ago had pierced her through her heart, something she hadn’t expected. Well, it was more than the kiss. It was the entire night. Ethan had shared with the group a pivotal moment from his childhood, and she’d allowed herself to feel what he must have felt. It was raw and emotional and unexpected. Yes, she’d expected him to take her invitation seriously but, for some reason, she hadn’t expected it to be so painful, so real. She’d expected Ethan to do what—up until that point—he’d been good for…blowing her off or only going a little past the surface. That time, though, he’d dug deep and been completely honest. He hadn’t pulled any punches. In the short time she’d known the man, she’d felt feelings for him that were less than professional, things she shouldn’t have felt for him, so when he told that story, it crushed her. More than that, though, it put her in touch with her own daddy issues, the ones that had kept her from having a healthy relationship…ever. And it had made her confused, reckless. But when Ethan had stopped her, pulled her close, kissed her…that had felt so right.

  Somehow, he understood her. He knew what she was feeling, the pain she had dealt with for so long and had buried. Somehow, he knew. And just by letting her cry in his arms, she’d felt herself start to heal, even though to do that, she’d have to dig up all that shit she’d buried so long ago.

  Still…it had felt right, even when she knew it was wrong.

  So she’d made sure they weren’t alone together after that point. It was the only way, the best way. If she could prevent their being together, she could stop anything from happening.

  He was being a gentleman too. He was respecting her need for distance. She could see that in his eyes, and it made her care all the more.

  When she arrived at the church basement that night, ready to set up for group, she had expected things to be the same. Instead, Ethan was already there, leaning up against the white stucco wall, grinning at her as she approached.

  That sneaky devil. He must have figured out what she’d been doing and planned a different way to get her alone for a few minutes. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face as she got close to the door. She pulled the key out of her pocket. “Hi,” she said, hoping her tone of voice didn’t encourage him.

  But, of course, it did. “Hey there.”

  She slid the key into the lock and turned the knob. “You’re here early.” Maybe if she kept the conversation light and nonchalant, he would take the hint. “You planning to help me set the room up?”

  He smiled and walked in behind her. “I’d be happy to.”

  Ethan started unfolding chairs and setting them up while Jenna filled the coffee pot up with water. When she started filling the filter with coffee grounds, Ethan asked, “So…do you have any plans tomorrow night?” She took a deep breath. No. That was what she’d feared. Before she could respond, he said, “I ask because I have two tickets to a band out of Pueblo I’ve been hearing a lot of buzz about, and I don’t want to go by myself.”

  She couldn’t resist. “What kind of music?”

  She didn’t turn around to see the look on his face, but she could hear the smile just the same. “What kind do you think?”

  It was a lie when she said, “You might be into jazz for all I know.” She’d known a little about him and his band before he’d come into her life, but since he’d become a regular in her group sessions, she’d done quite a bit of research. She knew damn good and well that he was a heavy metal lover just like she was. She thought she’d read that his favorite band was Suicide Silence. So she didn’t think he was inviting her to a jazz concert…but one never knew.

  He started laughing. “Yeah…I look like the jazz type, don’t I?” He unfolded another chair and set it down. “Actually, I respect the hell out of jazz. But you’re right. Not a jazz band. Metal. Their name is Pretty Little Lies. Have you heard of them?”

  “No. But I don’t get out much.”

  “Well, we can change that.”

  She switched on the coffee pot and then turned around to face Ethan. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Yeah, I kind of gathered that from previous conversations. I want to make you a deal, though.”

  She couldn’t resist, even though she knew it was the worst idea ever. “And that would be?”

  He set down the last chair and walked over to her. “We just go as friends…you know, to have fun. No pressure. Nothing at stake. Just two music lovers going to enjoy a band.”

  Her eyes searched his. She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just shining her on, but he was irresistible to her. She sighed. “Okay, all right. And then do you promise to stop bugging me?”

  “Bugging you? I’m bugging you?”

  She smiled. “You know what I mean.”

  He smirked. “Maybe.” He knew he had to move quickly. “So can I get your number before people come in so we can work out the details tomorrow morning?”

  Against her better judgment, she gave him her cell number, and he added it to his phone. He’d just stuck his phone back in his pocket when the next person arrived for group. He winked and took his seat and damned if she didn’t find herself distracted for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  HEIDI SMEARED PINK lipstick on and blew him a kiss. She went inside the convenience store to get a Coke, and she said she’d be right back. After a few minutes, though, Ethan started wondering what the hell was taking her so long. They were going to be late for the party.

  He got out of his truck and walked inside. There she was, leaning over the counter, talking to the douchebag running the register. She was giggling. Ethan was no dummy. He knew exactly what it meant. This guy was just one of several Heidi was sleeping with. Jesus. He was becoming a laughing stock.

  His voice sounded edgier than he’d meant it to as he approached. “Are you ready?”

  Heidi stood up straight but didn’t turn around. “Just a minute.”

  The tall guy behind the counter raised his eyebrows. “This your boyfriend?”

  Ethan took a moment to size the guy up. Yeah, he was taller than Ethan, but Ethan was still pretty sure he could take the guy. Ethan was shorter, but he was tough. He’d taken plenty of beatings, and he could do it again. The guy could wear himself out beating on Ethan and then Ethan would knock him the fuck out. Besides, the guy looked lazy, and he’d probably take one fist from Ethan and decide it wasn’t worth it. Heidi wasn’t that good. She was just young and fresh.

  So he moved a little farther forward and said, “Yeah, I’m her boyfriend.” He fought the urge to challenge him. He wanted to party; he didn’t want to fight. Yeah, he’d fight if he had to, but he was hoping this dipshit wouldn’t go there.

  The guy’s eyes sized him up as well, but then he looked at Heidi. “Call me next week.”

  She giggled and grabbed her Coke off the counter. She looked over at Ethan and winked, then grabbed his hand and started almost skipping toward the door. The cute act was getting old. Every time he’d caught her or questioned her, she acted cute and sweet and tried to distract him. It wasn’t going to work much longer, though.

  Once they were in his truck and heading toward the party, he said, “Who was that guy?”

  “What do you mean? He’s just a cashier who happens
to be a friend.”

  “You know what I mean, Heidi. You have an awful lot of friends.”

  “I’m popular. Aren’t you glad you’re dating a popular girl?”

  He felt his hands tighten around the steering wheel. He was so angry, he was driving like a dipshit. His grandpa had bought him the truck a few months earlier when he’d gotten his license, and he could still hear the old man’s voice in his ears to drive safely. He kept his eyes on the road and did his best to keep his foot from pressing too hard on the accelerator. “What makes you so popular, Heidi?”

  “People just like me. You know that.”

  His voice got lower. “Men like you.”

  She looked over at him, smacking a piece of gum in her mouth. She didn’t say a word, so he looked over at her, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. Her expression went from sad to seductive in seconds. “Want a blowjob?”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Right now?”

  She smiled and arched her eyebrows. And he was pissed…more pissed at himself than her as he felt the blood rush to his cock. The goddamn girl knew just how to get to him…and he let her, every single time. She knew it too, because she’d already unbuckled herself and her hands were on the button to his jeans before he’d finished exhaling.

  No wonder Ethan’s sleep schedule was so fucked up. He couldn’t sleep a complete eight hours without either having a dream about something in the past or having a nightmare. No wonder he hated sleeping anymore.

  He rolled over and looked at the clock. It was one twenty-nine. He’d only been asleep a couple of hours, and he’d had a hard time drifting off because he was thinking about Jenna. He hadn’t been with a woman in so long, it wasn’t even funny, so having a dream about almost getting a blowjob…sucked. He sighed and sat up. He knew if Jenna really wasn’t interested, he was going to have to find someone to spend a little time with. It wasn’t just for the sex. Yeah, he loved sex and he loved women, but the truth was…he was feeling lonely. He hadn’t spent the night with someone in a long time and he’d never admit to anyone just how empty it made him feel. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to spend the night with just anyone. There was only one woman he wanted to be with…and he was afraid she didn’t feel the same way.

 

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