He hugged Jordan with a fierceness he hadn’t known he possessed. “Don’t you worry. Nothing’s going to hurt you as long as I’m around.”
Chapter Twenty
Monday came much too quickly for Jordan’s taste. He was already on his second cup of coffee, and it was only nine thirty in the morning. Though he had many phone calls to make, Jordan sat at his kitchen table and instead chose to think about the incredible weekend he and Lucas had shared. Sasha nudged her muzzle under his hand, and he idly scratched her silky ears. The dog loved Lucas, and Jordan swore she seemed happier when they both walked her and were home with her.
Home. Once again his house was a home, thanks to Lucas’s presence. Jordan knew he needed Lucas there with him during the nights, when his demons crawled out and made their presence known, like an unwanted houseguest. When he confessed his anxiety, Lucas had looked at him strangely.
“You know I’m here for you; whatever you need. But I don’t understand what you’re anxious about.” He kissed him. “You’re a big, bad-ass doctor who doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
Jordan contemplated Lucas’s remark as he finished his coffee. While it was true he longed to return to the person he’d once been, he’d changed too much to ever be as dismissive and self-centered as before. It was hard to feel superior when all you were holding on to was the hope of getting through one more day. And your only hope was a small yellow pill.
Doctors carried a natural arrogance around with them. Jordan had never questioned it, as he considered it his due. After all, he saved lives, and as an orthopedic surgeon, he literally put broken people back together again. Setting a shattered bone, piecing together its fragments required manual skill and technical ability, leaving little room for experiment or discussion. But in reality it was nothing compared to what Tash hoped to accomplish with him.
Over the past year, he’d discovered that the mind was an unexplored place of fathomless, twisting caverns. Life had become a desert set with minefields, and Jordan had been unprepared for the havoc and grief Keith’s death and the near destruction of his friendship with Drew would wreak on him, driving him nearly mad with pain. He’d thought he was stronger than that. He’d thought he could handle it. The one thing he never thought he’d be was a victim of addiction, which proved how much control emotions really had over his mind.
It was part of the reason he decided to go for the seven-day detoxification—a total withdrawal from the Xanax. He’d been weaning himself down and now he only took four pills a day. Still too many, but greatly reduced from what he’d been taking for the past six months. With Tash’s professional help during the day and Lucas’s love giving him strength at night, Jordan had no doubt he’d overcome his problem. Even now he could feel his resolve returning, flooding his veins with the cocksure attitude that had propelled him to the top of his class and near the top of his field despite his youth.
Yet as his dialed the phone to speak to his boss, the head of orthopedics, his hand shook, and he could feel the nervous perspiration break out over his body. How had he allowed himself to sink so low?
“Dr. Springer’s office.”
God save him from perky people before ten in the morning. “Good morning, Elyse. It’s Dr. Peterson. Is he in?”
“One moment, Doctor.” Was it his imagination, or did she hesitate?
Before he had a chance to think more about it, the brusque voice of his boss came on the phone. “Jordan? What’s the matter?”
He gripped the phone tight and feigned nonchalance. “Why should anything be the matter?”
“Because in the ten years you’ve worked here, I can’t remember the last time you called me. So don’t bullshit a bullshitter. Start talking.”
He swallowed heavily. “I know I’ve only come back full-time for a few months now, but, um, I’m going to need a few weeks off. I haven’t scheduled any surgeries and…”
“What’s the matter, Jordan? Are you sick?”
The surprisingly caring note in Springer’s voice caused unexpected tears to rise in Jordan’s eyes.Goddamn it. Get a grip. “Yes, I’m fine…no, I’m not. I’m going in for detox, David. It’s a rapid seven-day program, and I’ll want the week after off as well, to make sure I’m well enough to return to work. If you still want me.”
Silence. Jordan braced himself for what he believed would be his termination due to his drug abuse. He wouldn’t fight it, and it would mean he’d never work in a hospital again. The end of his career. Being an orthopedic surgeon was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do since he was in college. His whole body began to shake. What a fucking mess he’d made of his life.
“Do you think we’re going to abandon you, Jordan? You’ve been a practicing physician long enough to know how many doctors face these types of challenges every day.”
And Jordan, who believed he’d have to go through this ordeal alone, listened in wonder.
“We take care of our own. Everyone on staff here has been aware of your struggles over the past year, and we all commend you.”
“David, I became addicted to Xanax when the struggle became too much to handle. What exactly are you commending me for?” Perhaps he was shooting himself in the foot, but in the ten years he’d known David Springer, the man had hardly been the warm and fuzzy type.
Nor was he now. But his voice, though stern, wasn’t condemning or accusatory. “For recognizing you need help. That you had an addiction. This problem has touched almost all of us in this community in so many different ways, whether it be a friend, a family member, or even ourselves. Do you think you’re the only one?”
“I didn’t know.” Before he himself had this problem, Jordan never would have cared about someone else’s struggle. “It’s not anything I’d ever thought about before—”
“Before you yourself had this problem, right?” Springer chuckled. “I know you, Jordan. You’re an excellent technical doctor, but concern for your fellow man was never your strong suit.” His voice once again softened. “Sometimes it takes a kick in the ass to show us what really is important in life, doesn’t it?”
After hanging up with Springer and promising to keep him abreast of his treatment, Jordan rinsed out his mug and took Sasha for her walk. After a long invigorating walk for the both of them, he was putting his key in the front door lock, anxious to shower, when Sasha barked and pulled at her leash. He turned around to see Drew and Ash at the foot of his stairs. Ash was dressed in a suit, obviously on his way in to work, while Drew was more casual. Hopefully that meant Drew planned to stay for a while and Ash would leave. Even though Jordan had tried to get Lucas to reconcile with Ash, the fact remained that Ash had hurt Lucas so badly he’d been an emotional cripple his entire life, and Jordan could understand his lover’s refusal to resolve their differences. In the war between the two of them, Jordan would always be on Lucas’s side.
“Hello, you two. What’s up?” They approached, and Sasha met them halfway up the steps, sniffing and licking both their hands. Drew’s light green gaze swept over Jordan, assessing him, he thought. “I’m fine, Drew.”
Faint pink stained Drew’s pale skin. “I know, Jordy. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out, and I thought I could come by, and we’d catch up before I had to go to the clinic.”
