by A. Hargrove
“Kind of. I’ve been here almost two weeks.”
“Is this your first class?”
“Yeah.”
“Welcome. You’ll love it. My name’s Will.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Acer.”
“Come on in. I’ll introduce you to the instructor.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I followed Will and he walked to the front where another guy stood on a platform. He noticed us right away.
“Will, how’s it going?”
“Good. I want you to meet Acer. He’s new today. Acer, meet James.”
James held out his hand and I did my best not to cringe. In the end, I said, “Sorry, I’m not there yet.”
“Hey, no worries. Meditation will help. It’s great for anxiety and relaxation. I’ll give you some special guidance, particularly with the breathing techniques. But thanks for the heads-up on the touching.”
“Thanks for understanding.” We walked over to the wall where the mats were stacked and grabbed one and he asked me to set up near the front.
During class, James was great at helping me out. Belly breathing was something I’d never done but I saw how it helped get my muscles to release the tension. When the class ended, I was surprised at how much better I felt.
Since James had been such an awesome instructor, I approached him and said, “Hey, thanks so much. I really loved the class. I never knew how much it would help.”
“Yeah, not many people do until they try it. Glad you’re on board. I’ll see you tomorrow. And Acer, don’t worry. You’ll get there.”
“Man, I hope so.”
Will was waiting and we went off to eat breakfast together.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“This is my fourth month. I thought I was ready to leave, but after two days, I came back.”
“Do you mind me asking why you thought you were ready?”
“Not at all. I handled everything just fine here. I was ready to get back to my life. But, man, was I ever wrong.”
He fell silent as we walked and I understood.
But then he said, “I won’t ask you why you’re here. That’s nobody’s business but your own. They’ll talk about it in group, that’s if you want to disclose it, but you’ll never have to. I was abducted, held for a month by a psychopathic serial killer.”
“Holy shit.”
“Right? It was bad. He had others there too. I still have flashbacks. I was lucky he didn’t kill me.”
“That’s terrible.” Mine wasn’t the only bad situation.
“It was, I won’t deny. When I was set free, I thought I was okay. But I began drinking and using drugs. Clearly, I was suffering from PTSD, and on top of that, I became addicted to opiates and alcohol. Then one day, I attempted suicide and failed. That’s how I ended up here.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“So am I, along with my family.”
Dr. Sheldon was right. Talking with Will had made me think about this in a different light. I wasn’t the only one with serious issues. Others here had them too and some were worse than mine. My soul was blackened and my heart had a gigantic hole in it, but perhaps I had a chance of recovering somewhat.
Chapter Thirty-Three
ISLA
Tears blinded me as I ran from Acer’s room. He didn’t want me anymore. My emotions zinged all over the place as my heart bottomed out. The man I knew had been completely broken. I knew it, but why wouldn’t he let me help? It didn’t matter how long it took. You didn’t put a time limit on love. I couldn’t just walk away and turn it off. It didn’t work like that. How could he not see it?
Angrily, I swiped at the tears and leaned against a wall until my legs just gave out. I landed on the floor, knees at my chin. I should’ve seen this coming, expected it after the way he reacted to me in the car. But I stupidly told myself it would pass. Well, it sure did. Permanently.
That’s when the cramping hit. I hadn’t had any issues with this pregnancy thus far, so it caught me unaware. I groaned and hugged my belly as the pain tore into me. What was happening?
The elevator dinged and I hadn’t known I was so close to it when I stopped. Then I heard my name.
“Isla, what are you doing down there?”
Glancing up, I saw Raiden and Cruze standing there.
I sniffed and then said, “Sitting. What does it look like?”
Raiden squatted down so we were eye to eye. “Hey, what’s going on?”
One look at him and the proverbial dam broke. I sobbed like a damn baby. He must’ve sat down, because next thing I knew, I was sitting in his lap. Jesus, now what else? I felt like the biggest fool in the world.
He patted my back and said, “Hey, whatever’s going on, it’ll get better. When things look their worst, the sun always comes up shining the next day, yeah?”
“No! It will never shine for me again.” I pulled away and used my shirt to wipe my face. I’m sure the last thing he wanted was slobbery tears and snot all over him.
“Why do you say that?”
“Acer dumped me.”
“Of course he did. He’s confused and will be for a while.” This was said as though he knew it all along.
“You knew?” I asked accusingly. If he did, I’d never speak to him again.
“Hell no, but I figured it was coming. Acer can’t figure out his ass from a hole in the ground on his best days. These clearly are not his best days. Let me guess. He said you deserved better, or something like that.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” I knocked him in the shoulder. “And he’s not as bad as you all think he is.”
“Maybe not anymore, but given his past, this doesn’t surprise me at all. Cruze, what do you think?”
“I agree. Acer has always had issues with decisions. Right now he can’t see the forest for the trees—or at least I’m assuming he can’t. Give the boy some time, Isla. He’ll come around.”
“You’re both wrong this time. He basically said the idea of having a relationship was never going to happen due to what he experienced.”
“Isla, you’re an extremely bright woman. Reason this out. Logic dictates he needs intensive therapy to get through and process what happened to him. The boy is an addict. From what I’ve read, that shit scrambles your brain for a long time, and then when you’ve been clean for that amount of time, you start to regain normal brain patterns.”
Raiden was right. I, too, had researched what drug addiction did to one’s mind. It wasn’t pretty and long-term effects were substantial. Given the time he’d been on the opiates, Acer would need about a year for his brain to correct itself. He would be on methadone too, and that had the same effect.
“You’re right. But can you do me a favor and stop calling him boy?”
They both chuckled. Cruze patted my arm. “Not a chance. That kid will always be boy to us.”
I shrugged. That’s how brothers were. My own treated me like a little girl sometimes.
“Are you here to see him?”
“No, we just thought we’d drop by for the hell of it,” Raiden said.
“Don’t be such a smart-ass. I’m having a rough day.”
He flashed me an apologetic grin. “Sorry. We wanted to try and see him. We’re done with him putting us off.”
“Good luck.” I spit the words out.
Cruze said, “Oh, so now you’re pissed at him?”
Was I? Yeah a little, but I was reeling more with pain than anything.
“Maybe a teeny bit. I’m just hurt at what he did. I want to help him and he won’t let me.”
Raiden let out a sigh. “He will. He needs that thing called time. It’s hard because of how worried you were, but he’ll get there.”
“Isla, go back to work and catch the bad guys. It’ll keep you busy and we’ll talk some sense into Acer.”
“You’re right. I need to focus my energy on something that will do good and not on myself. Will you keep me posted on what he says?”
“Absolutely. That is if he sees us.”
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate you. Now I need to get my things out of your parents’ house, grab the dog, and go back to Atlanta.”
“Have you booked a flight?” Raiden asked.
“Not yet.”
The two men glanced at each other. Then Cruze spoke. “We’ll get you there. I’ll call the pilot.”
“You don’t have to—”
Raiden stopped me. “Consider it done. After everything you’ve done and been through for our boy, we won’t let you fly back on commercial. Anyway, it’s not a long flight and the pilot can do a turnaround.”
When I tried to stand, the cramps hit long and hard. I fell to my knees and that’s when I felt the warmth between my thighs.
“Isla, what’s wrong?” Cruze asked.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “The baby.”
“Baby?”
“I think I’m losing it.”
Raiden cursed, and then I heard him shouting, “We need a doctor.”
Cruze knelt next to me and held my hand as I wept. “It’s going to be fine.”
“No, it’s not. Acer doesn’t want me and now I’m losing his baby.”
After it was over, I mourned the loss of my two boys. The baby had been a boy and I’d lost his father too. Why? Why had this happened? The doctor said I’d been under too much stress, but I didn’t believe that crap. I think it was Acer pushing me away. My body couldn’t take it. I did nothing but cry for three straight days.
Dana sat with me a lot. I wasn’t sure how she felt about the pregnancy, but I knew she was heartbroken for me.
“He’ll come around. Raiden and Cruze are right. I know my son. Right now, he’s confused, hurt, angry, and not in the right state of mind.”
“Raiden and Cruze? They’re here?”
“Yes, they came to check on you, but you were asleep.”
Through my watery smile, I said, “I hope they can talk some sense into him. Anyway, I have to pack and go to the airport. You’ve been kind enough to me already, but I really need to get back to work. I need to ask them if the offer of the use of their plane to go back to Atlanta still holds.”
“I can ask, if you’d like.” She called them and they said anytime I wanted to go, it was at my disposal.
I accepted their kind offer and Dana drove me to the airport the next day. It was helpful because she knew where to take me. I got out of the car, grabbed Ruffles, then my bag.
“Thank you for everything, but especially for taking care of me.”
“I should be the one thanking you. You are welcome back here anytime. I know Acer will straighten out his head after a while.”
“Thanks, Dana, I hope so.”
Ruffles waltzed up the steps to the plane like she owned the place. It made me laugh. “Hey pooch, don’t get too used to this. You won’t be flying on this much.”
The pilot greeted me, along with the co-pilot.
“I’m afraid we are all you have for the flight. Since it’s just a short hour and a half trip, we didn’t get a flight attendant. Sorry about that.”
“Gosh, don’t apologize. I’m just happy for the ride.”
I was back home in no time, and the flight was smooth. Ruffles sat next to me until she took her usual nap.
It was weird walking into my house. I’d called Art on the way home from the airport and he was going to come over. I had enough time to unpack and walk the dog. It was a gorgeous spring day, and hard to believe summer was getting close.
As I rounded the corner, I noticed a car with two men sitting in it. What the hell! They were back.
I jogged home and Art was pulling into the driveway when I got there.
“They’re back again.”
“Who?”
“Whoever was watching me before.” I motioned with my head toward the direction of the car.
“Let’s go take a drive.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m trying to figure this thing out.”
“No one knew I was even coming home today, except…” Holy shit. It was him! He saw my expression and took a step back.
“It’s not me! I swear, Isla. I never breathed a word to anyone in the office I was coming here or that you were back.”
My heart raced a million beats per minute.
“We can’t just stand here. They’ll wonder what we’re doing.”
He was right, but I was afraid of going anywhere with him.
“Okay, but you drive and when we get into the car, I want your weapon.”
“You’ve got it. Anything you want.”
I loaded the dog into the back seat and then got in. As soon as I did, his gun was handed off to me. Would he have done that had he been guilty? I wasn’t sure yet, but I’d soon find out.
When he drove in the opposite direction of the men, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Calm down. I’m going around the block and when we get to that street, take a picture of their license plate so we can run a search on it.”
“Good idea.”
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I do have some good ideas every once in a while.”
When we got to that point, I took several pictures but wasn’t sure how well they turned out.
“Let’s talk,” he said. “I know it looks suspicious but I am not involved. I’ll show you my phone, texts, anything. You have to believe me.”
“What would you do if you were in my shoes?”
“I’d think the same things you’re thinking. Here.” He handed me his phone and told me his password.
I opened up his texts and went to Thomas, because he was the guilty party. There was nothing to indicate guilt on Art’s part. I opened his glove box and center console.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a burner phone.”
“You won’t find one because I don’t have one.”
“Fine, but let me satisfy myself.”
After my search was completed, I felt beneath the seat and told him to pull over. He drove into the next parking lot. I searched under his seat and in the door compartment. Nothing.
“Open the back hatch.”
I checked back there and nothing. Once my doubts were assuaged, I got back inside and said, “I feel better now.”
“Good, because I’m telling the truth.”
“So, Art, what now? Who are they and what do you think they want?”
“I’m not sure, but we know it doesn’t have to do with Acer. They want you.”
And didn’t that make me happy.
“The phone.”
“I showed you—”
“No, McCutcheon’s phone. That’s the only thing I can think of. Did you ever follow up on that?”
“There’s a possibility a report on it is buried on my desk. After Acer’s incident, it got shoved to the side. We had other important items to take care of.”
“Can you still get your hands on it?”
“Sure, why?”
“If there’s anything on it, I know someone who can find it.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
ACER
Days were long, but the nights… at times I wondered if it was worth it. I cursed anything and anyone during those awful moments. I prayed for the cushion of heroin to comfort me. Nothing helped.
During group, I learned that time would become my friend, but now I despised it. Hours dragged like days, minutes like hours, and so on. I had never given much thought to drug addiction before. Sure, I had my fill of alcohol and weed, but nothing more than that. It was something I could turn off whenever I chose. I never had to do any of them. It was more of a social thing. The truth was, I’d never even had so much as a single beer when I’d been alone. And for me to become an addict was something I had difficulty wrapping my head around.
Every morning, I began by saying this wasn’t happening. But five minutes later, I’d be scratching the hell out of my arms, the need for the bliss of he
roin overruling every coherent thought. All I wanted was one injection. The methadone had helped the physical side of things, but now I had to deal with the psychological part. If I could get my hands on those motherfuckers, I’d single-handedly destroy each of them.
And that was me talking like a big shot. Currently, I couldn’t whip a toddler’s ass. It was downright humiliating how far I’d fallen.
The therapist snapped her fingers. “Acer, come back to me. You’ve disappeared.”
“Sorry. I was thinking about how I—forget it. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Everything that runs through your head matters during these sessions. What is it?”
Her name was Caroline and I liked her more than I wanted to admit. Initially, I was hesitant to talk. Even though her questions seemed invasive, her kind and compassionate nature made it impossible not to open up. She had a way about her that had me saying things I hadn’t even told Dr. Sheldon. Maybe it was because she was closer to my age. She was thirty-one. Or maybe it was because she was a woman. I never did figure that one out.
“Yeah, so I’d never even drink a beer when I was alone and here I am a fucking addict.”
She pulled up her legs and sat with them crossed in the chair. I also liked her casual manner. It made me feel at ease.
“Let’s dissect that. Your thoughts went back to drinking and partying?”
“Yeah. I did my fair share, don’t get me wrong, but I turned it off too. I never did anything more than smoke weed and drink. It doesn’t seem fair that I’m in rehab.”
“Helllooo. What part of this did you miss?” Her arms flailed wildly. “None of this is fair. It wasn’t fair you were abducted. It wasn’t fair you were trafficked. It wasn’t fair you were sexually and physically abused. It wasn’t fair they created an addict out of you. Here’s the rotten truth. They did. Now it’s up to you to actually do something about it. Is it easy? Hell no, as you’re discovering. Will it get easier? Maybe. I’ve not experienced it but your group attendees can tell you. So my question to you is… will you work at it?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are and I’m proud of you. But there’s something else, isn’t there?”