Colt:Hey, so sorry, was on my way to your house when a family emergency came up.
Colt:Raincheck?
Silver Fox:I thought you said you hated it when people cancel at the last minute.
Silver Fox:But yeah, sure. Text me when you’re available again.
He's understandably annoyed but didn't seem overly concerned that I’m dealing with a family emergency. Not that he has to be, this was just going to be a hookup, but he was a little bit more of a dick than I would have guessed based on the sweetness of his pictures and our funny exchanges.
Ah well, bullet dodged.
My sister's got her head on a stranger’s shoulder. A woman in her forties, maybe. Probably a lesbian if her sliver undercut and rainbow Apple watchband are any indications.
“Destry?”
She sees me and hops up right away, practically throwing herself into my arms.
She's lost even more weight somehow and feels fragile in my arms. The woman stands and approaches us, handing me her business card. She's a land developer and looks like she's familiar with the gym.
“Everything going to be alright with her?” she asks, clearly having heard Destry’s recounting of nearly using again.
I nod, grateful for this person I’ve never met before. “I’m going to make a few calls and get her the help she needs. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you sitting with her.”
“Hey, we all need some support every now and again.”
She pats Destry’s arm and makes her way to her car. I turn my attention to my sister. “Let's go to your apartment and see what we can do.”
When we arrive, Destry immediately gets into her pajamas and joins me on the couch, leaning against me.
“I don’t think I need rehab. I think I need something to clear my head.”
Having been through therapy together regarding her addiction, I know that listening to her and letting her lead the way for treatment is always the better option. I rack my brain for ideas. Neither of us wants her to go to an out-of-state facility, and the fact that she didn’t use indicates, at least to me, that she needs support within the community.
I think Warwick’s brother went to a local treatment facility, and I know that the Jennings brothers went somewhere after the younger one nearly died by suicide. I really don’t want to call either of them, but Wick is at least the devil I know.
Destry’s fallen asleep against my shoulder, and I’m grateful. Sighing, I hit the button on my phone.
“Colt? Are you calling because the silver-fox Daddy needs someone to pinch-hit for him?”
Fucking Wick.
“No, dickhead,” I whisper. “I'm here with Destry, and she almost relapsed.”
To his credit, his tone changes immediately. “Shit. Sorry, dude. What can I do to help?”
“What was the facility that your brother went to? Wasn’t it the same one the Jennings brothers used?”
“Nah, we ended up taking him out of town. But I have the deets on the one the Jennings went to if you want them.”
“Yes, please. That’d really help.”
“Sure, man.”
He gives me the details and tells me who to call.
“It sometimes can take a little bit to get in because they are pretty popular, but you should call now and get the admissions process started. They have someone on-call twenty-four seven.”
“Thanks, Wick. I really appreciate it.”
