Ties That Bind

by Neeny Boucher

  Sitting on the plane, Christina berated herself all the way to New York. She’d been remiss in her duties as a sister and this was on her. She wasn’t prepared to lose Johnny, refusing to even entertain that as a possibility.

  Christina was met at the airport by a chauffeur and hustled into a limo. This was a list of ‘firsts’ for Christina: first time in a private jet, limo and in New York, but she couldn’t savor any of it. Her only thought was getting to Johnny.

  Sitting inside the limo was a large, muscle bound man who had an air of quiet menace. He had platinum dyed hair, a goatee, and aviator sunglasses that were permanently attached to his face. He was dressed in dark gym gear and spoke in a soft Irish accent. He introduced himself as a ‘drug exit counselor’, but didn’t give his name.

  Mr. Drug Exit informed Christina of what they were facing and asked her to prepare herself. Johnny and Georgie had been in the hotel for a week and been on some kind of bender. They had been violent toward one another and smashed up the hotel room.

  Christina sat listening in a detached form of horror. He couldn’t be talking about Johnny? Johnny didn’t have a violent bone in his body and the thought he’d had some physical altercation with his girlfriend was ridiculous.

  “So,” Mr. Drug Exit stated. “What we’ll do is get your brother out of the room as fast as we can. I have a vehicle waiting and we’ll take him to the airport. We’ve booked him into a private facility in California. You’ll need to come, as his next of kin, and get him admitted.”

  Next of kin, she was Johnny’s next of kin? This was all news to Christina, but the thought made her feel physically sick. Johnny had obviously considered the possibility he could die. “Okay,” she nodded. “I’m no expert, but is California the best place for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he was near his family or friends?”

  Mr. Drug Exit stared impassively back at her, but she couldn’t read him because of his stupid aviator glasses. He shook his head, as if she was an idiot, and spoke in a voice that brooked no opposition. “This is the best option. Johnny needs to be somewhere that he can focus on himself and get well. His addiction is bad – very bad. I doubt they’ll let him see anyone he knows for months.”

  They arrived at the St. Regis Hotel and were immediately taken into a room far away from prying eyes. She was introduced to Nate Donovan, Oliver Cushing, and a Dr. Wentworth. Nate Donovan was tall and well-built with dark blonde hair, and ice-blue eyes that seemed to see everything.

  Dressed in a dark suit, Nate cut an imposing figure and the steel in the man’s spine was evident without him uttering a word. He wasn’t rude and he wasn’t friendly. He was just determined in an emotionally distant type of way that made anyone shrink in his presence.

  Oliver Cushing was another matter. Tall and slender with high cheekbones, jet-black hair, and dark brown eyes, he was perhaps the most beautiful man Christina had ever seen. Unlike the ice cool Nate Donovan; Oliver was nervous and fidgety.

  The contrast was striking and Christina wondered what he was doing here? He seemed too delicate and refined to be involved in something like this. Looking at Oliver closer, however, she saw the family resemblance to Georgie and concluded he must be performing a similar role to her.

  The group made their way to Johnny and Georgie’s room with security from the hotel. They were quietly let in and even though Christina thought she was prepared, she wasn’t. Her eyes opened wide in shock and her mouth fell open. Oliver put his arm over his mouth and nose, but the other three men remained detached at the chaos before them.

  The curtains were closed and the room smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, body odor, and worse. The room was strewn with debris: smashed chairs, cushions, glass, bottles, and anything that could be thrown. It was disgusting and Christina was ashamed a family member of hers was responsible.

  She turned to look at the others to see how they should proceed, but no one moved. They stood evaluating the situation, all except Mr. Drug Exit. He was scanning the room, moving as slowly, and quietly as possible. For a big man, he was light on his feet, reminding Christina of a large, dangerous lion.

  Christina couldn’t see Johnny anywhere, but Georgie was sitting at the table with her head on her hands. The table was strewn with packets of drugs, spoons, and rubber bands. The ashtray was overflowing with a cigarette still burning, setting the other butts smoldering.

  “Georgie,” Oliver shrieked, startling everyone in the deathly silence. Georgie’s head shot up from the table, her eyes latching onto Oliver. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath and she didn’t look fully human.

  Long considered one of the most beautiful women in the world, Christina could see no beauty in Georgie Le Fey. She was unrecognizable: a skin and bone mess with visible sores on her arms. Her matted hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days and she was dressed in a filthy sleeveless shift, with blood and food on it.

  At first Georgie didn’t react, she just stared and then her face contorted. “Get out,” she seethed. “GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. JOHNNY!”

  Pointing at Nate, Georgie kicked the table over, spilling everything onto the floor, and screaming, “GET HIM OUT OF HERE! TAKE HIM AWAY. I DON’T WANT HIM HERE. JOHNNY! JOHNNY!”

  Everyone moved at once, but it felt like it was in slow motion. The hotel security guy dashed for the ashtray to try to put the cigarette out, while Dr. Wentworth and Nate cornered Georgie. “GET BACK!” She screamed. “GET BACK. Don’t you - touch me. Don’t…”

  Where was Johnny? Christina began to panic because in this whole debacle, Johnny was nowhere to be seen. What had this woman done to him?

  “JOHNNY!” Christina bellowed. “JOHNNY! Where are you?”

  “What do you want with Johnny,” Georgie screeched, looking Christina up and down in disgust. Stabbing a finger, Georgie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think you can come in here and take what’s mine? You little bitch!”

  Staring at Georgie, the two women locked eyes in challenge. Georgie’s eyes were wild and dangerous, but it would take more than evil looks to stop Christina. She felt something snap. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time: she was about to lose her temper.

  Usually, it frightened her because no good ever came from it. She’d kept it under lock and key since her divorce from Riley, but right now she welcomed it. If it was a fight to the death for Johnny, Christina was all in.

  “He’s not yours,” Christina snarled. “He’s mine and I’m taking him away from you. You poisonous, drugged-out bitch.”

  Staring in confusion, Georgie’s face turned feral. Dropping to the floor, Georgie started scrabbling in search of something like an animal. She held up a metal object in her hand, screaming at Christina. “I’ll kill you. I will kill you.”

  Bracing herself, Christina put her arms up to fend off Georgie and then focused on what the crazy bitch had in her hands: a spoon. The absurdity of it made Christina giggle. The idiot woman couldn’t even manage to get a decent weapon. With all the smashed glass around, Christina expected Georgie to go for that, but no. It was death by spoon.

  Sizing up the opposition, Christina noted Georgie had a good four inches height advantage, but one strike under the chin would knock her out. Georgie might have ‘crazy’ on her side, but this wasn’t Christina’s first showdown with one of Johnny’s psycho girlfriends. “COME AT ME,” Christina shouted, “AND-I-WILL-KNOCK-YOU-THE-FUCK-OUT.”

  Georgie flinched, shrinking back with startled eyes. The room went silent and Christina stood with her fists clenched breathing heavily. In that moment, she wanted Georgie to come at her. She wanted to release some of her fear and pain at someone or something.

  “FUCK OFF, DINA!” She heard. “FUCK OFF. I DON’T WANT YOU HERE. JUST LEAVE US ALONE!”

  Christina spun and saw her brother, but relief quickly turned to horror. Her mouth fell and her heart lurched. She remained standing on her own shaky legs by sheer force of will.

  Johnny sat up from the couch and she hardly recognized
him. He was shirtless and his wavy hair was matted into dreadlocks. He had a full beard with vomit in it. He was skin and bone, his ribs showing.

  Christina’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. Johnny looked like a hollowed out husk of his former self. He had needle marks up his arms and he was filthy.

  She met Johnny’s gaze and his eyes were glassy, but worse. They were filled with hate and he had never looked at her that way before. “WHY DON’T YOU MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS?” He shouted. “AND LEAVE US ALONE? GET OUT. ALL OF YOU. GET OUT!”

  “JOHNNY!” Georgie screamed, struggling toward him, but Mr. Drug Exit restrained her. She attempted to claw his face, but he held her hands, speaking to her in a soothing voice.

  Johnny’s face contorted in rage and he bared his teeth. “LET HER GO!” He yelled, lurching toward Georgie, but Christina deliberately stood in his path. To her relief, Nate Donovan supported her, positioning himself in front of Georgie.

  Her brother erupted, swearing and cursing, trying to get to Georgie. Johnny ran at Christina, attempting to push through her, but she wouldn’t budge and neither would Nate. She realized in that moment that there wasn’t going to be an easy way of doing this.

  Christina hadn’t known what to expect, but she couldn’t have prepared for this: not this. In her naivety, she’d imagined arguing with Johnny and him giving into her, like he always did. He’d always been a lover, not a fighter, a sensitive soul in a harsh world.

  This was going to be an ugly fight and she wasn’t going to lose it, not when Johnny’s survival was on the line. Putting her head up and squaring her shoulders, Christina faced off with her brother. “You’re coming with me,” she said with determination and menace. “Get your stuff. We’re going.”

  “Oh I am, am I?” Johnny sneered. “Well, I don’t want to go with you. You’re nothing to me. Fuck off.”

  His words cut her so deeply, she felt her chin tremble, but she wouldn’t give in to tears. There was plenty of time for that after: after this was finished and once he was safe. “Well, you’re something to me,” Christina retorted. “And you’re coming whether you like it or not.”

  Christina semi-expected it, but was still surprised when it happened. Johnny lunged for her and it reminded her of how they used to play fight as kids. He would always do a clumsy feint, trying to get an advantage over her, but they weren’t kids anymore, and this wasn’t wrestling for fun.

  “You fucking bitch,” Johnny snarled. “Who do you think you are? I don’t want you here. I don’t want you.”

  Mr. Drug Exit went to intervene, but Christina pushed him away. She grabbed Johnny’s left arm, twisting it up behind his back, kneeing him in the back of his legs, and pushing him toward the ground. “You’re getting slow, big brother,” she growled in his ear. “I saw that move coming a mile away. All the smack has addled your brains and you didn’t have much to begin with.”

  Christina wrestled a writhing Johnny to the ground, rolling him onto his back. She sat on his chest, pinning his arms with her knees. He was struggling, cursing, and trying to shove her off, but she wouldn’t let go.

  Georgie began to scream and wail, but Christina ignored her. Looking down at her brother, she felt terror. She wouldn’t survive losing him too. None of her family would. They’d lost enough.

  She felt rage toward him. Seething angry resentment, something repressed and ugly. If she didn’t vent it, she would choke. “You asshole,” she croaked out. “YOU SELFISH FUCKING ASSHOLE. I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!”

  Refusing to meet her gaze, Johnny closed his eyes, which made her angrier. Slapping him full in the face, she screamed, “LOOK AT ME. Do you want to kill us? Is that what you want, Johnny? You want us all to die? Dad? Gabby? Me? How could you? How could you be so fucking selfish?”

  Tears seeped from Johnny’s eyes and he shook his head, but wouldn’t look at her. She kept slapping him until he opened his eyes. “Stop it, Dina,” he begged. “Please. Stop it.”

  Johnny began to cry, great racking sobs that made him sound like a wounded animal. Tears coursed down Christina’s face and the world blurred in front of her. The last time she’d seen Johnny cry was at her mother’s funeral, and even then, he’d tried to keep a brave face in public.

  She pressed her forehead to his, grabbing his face and sobbing. “None of us would survive this, Johnny. If we lose you, we’d die. You can’t leave me too, Johnny. Please, don’t leave me.”

  Releasing Johnny, Christina lay on her back with her eyes closed. She didn’t care if the floor was disgusting and covered in god only knew what. She wasn’t leaving her brother.

  Tears streamed down the side of her face, and now the floodgates were opened, she feared she couldn’t stop. Her chest felt like it was going to split open and scoop whatever was left of her out, dumping it on the floor with the rest of the carnage. Heaving and trying to catch her breath, Christina felt like she’d been burned to the ground and there was nothing left, but ashes.

  Johnny’s hand clasped hers and she hung on tight to him. Staring at the ceiling because she didn’t want to look at him, Christina whispered. “I can’t lose you too, Johnny. I couldn’t survive it. Please don’t leave me in this world alone. I’m begging you. Everyone leaves and I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to live on this planet without you.”

  The thought of her brother dying was too much to bear and fresh sobs racked her body. She howled until she thought she would lose consciousness. She cried for everything: losing her mother, Riley, her father’s emotional absence, losing her home, and now her brother.

  This world was cruel and cursed. Love was dangerous, especially if you loved them too much. She didn’t love often, but when she did, it was true and forever.

  “I’ll come with you, Dina,” Johnny whispered. “I’ll come. If that’s what you want. I’ll do it.”

  Christina sobbed louder and Johnny reached for her. “Don’t cry, Dina. Please don’t cry.” He rolled over onto his stomach, clumsily putting a hand on her arm. “Shhhh, Dina, I’m here now.”

  She sat up, hugging Johnny to her. It would be okay, she thought. They’d be okay, but as they started to pick themselves up off the floor, Georgie started wailing, tearing at her hair. “NO, NO! You can’t leave me. JOHNNY. JOHNNY! YOU CAN’T!”

  Christina stared in shock because, for a moment, she’d forgotten there were other people in the room. She met the pitying, judging looks of Nate Donovan, and the doctor, but Oliver Cushing looked terrified of her. His eyes slid to her and away, looking down at the floor in fear.

  Nate and the doctor held Georgie, as she writhed, attacking them with her dirty fingernails. She screamed and screamed, but Nate Donovan held on to her, while the doctor sedated her. She collapsed unconscious into Nate’s arms and he gently carried her to the couch.

  Christina didn’t want to see any more. She had one goal: to get Johnny out and that’s all she had the energy for. Mr. Drug Exit grabbed Johnny, throwing a shirt on him, before they hustled him out the door. They loaded Johnny into a waiting vehicle, heading directly to the airport and back on Nate Donovan’s plane.

  **********

  On the way to California, Johnny started suffering withdrawal and turned vicious. “I want to go back,” he blurted. “You’re just jealous, Dina. Just because you can’t make a relationship work, you want to ruin everyone else’s. You’re a fucking bitch. You want everyone else to be cold and fucked up like you are.”

  Christina suffered his abuse because she knew it wasn’t really him talking, but it still hurt. He was shaking and sweating, throwing up sporadically, which she cleaned up without comment. She asked Mr. Drug Exit if they should give him some medication, but he shook his head.

  When Johnny’s behavior became dangerous, Mr. Drug Exit played interference. Speaking quietly and calmly to Johnny, Mr. Drug Exit restrained him if he went near her. Watching someone manhandle her brother, even though she knew it had to be done, made Christina feel nauseous.<
br />
  Tears spilled down her face and she had to turn away. A part of her wanted to attack Mr. Drug Exit for touching her brother, but she knew that was ridiculous. This was for Johnny’s own good and if she ever wanted her brother back - not this drugged out imposter - she would endure.

  By the time they arrived at the rehab center, Johnny was in pain. His behavior oscillated between child-like begging to caged animal. “Don’t do this, Dina,” Johnny begged. “Don’t-you-do this!”

  Christina found it hard to reconcile that this was her brother. Her Johnny would never act this way, but this wasn’t ‘her’ Johnny. This was her brother withdrawing from dugs and he was hideous.

  Her bottom lip trembled and her vision wavered. She felt sick to her stomach and her head was pounding. I can do this, I can do this became her mantra. She would do anything for her brother, including protecting him from himself.

  Mr. Drug Exit and rehab staff members controlled Johnny while Christina filled out the paper work, answering as many questions as she could. It seemed to take forever, but in retrospect, it was done quickly and efficiently. Time stood still on the day from hell, extending the agony, and drawing it out like torture.

  Johnny was calm until Mr. Drug Exit and Christina prepared to leave. He erupted in rage, hurling vicious abuse at Christina. “I’m going to leave here, Dina,” he raged. “As soon as you go, I’m out of here. They can’t keep me here.”

  He laughed a high-pitched laugh and then winced from pain. “Do you hear me, Dina? You can’t control me. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  Christina stared at her brother and fury overcame her. Did he not understand the danger he was in? He was killing himself and what were they supposed to do? Stand by and watch?

  Pressing Johnny against the wall, dark brown eyes met dark brown eyes. “Really?” She sneered. “You’re going to just leave here and start all this again?”

  Johnny’s face was twisted in disgust and loathing. “Yes, really,” he mocked, mimicking her tone. “I’ll really be leaving when you go. Fuck you! They can’t keep me here. I have rights.”