My heart jackhammered against my ribs as I sat up, completely lost. The last thing I remembered was the sun setting on the beach. Cool, clean white sheets pooled around my hips, and I was naked. I ran a hand down my bare chest and scratched at the small tuft of hair in the middle. The mirror over the dresser across the room wasn’t something I wanted to look into, so I stared at the floor instead. My eyes were sticky and crusty like I’d been crying a lot, and my nose was raw and stuffy. After I blinked around the room, I groaned as the unmistakable hangover pain that always convinced me I was near death swept over me.
Different from every other time I’d felt this way, strong, sturdy arms circled my waist. Drew murmured out a quiet shushing sound and kissed my shoulder. I squeezed my eyes closed, and shame slammed me. My fingers twitched to go buy another bottle of vodka, just so I wouldn’t have to be quite so stuck in this feeling of failure.
But that’s how the downward slide always started.
And that’s why I’d been going to those goddamned meetings. Why hadn’t I told Drew what I was feeling last night? Why hadn’t I gone to the meeting? I didn’t want to stand up, after so many days in a row of doing well, and say that today was my first day sober, assuming the alcohol was even out of my system by the time the evening rolled around.
“Fuck, did I hurt you?” I asked, terrified to hear his answer. I slapped a hand to his arm.
He snorted out an amused sound and groaned. “No, you were sad and cried. You scared me because a few times you couldn’t catch your breath, and I worried you’d choke, especially once all that alcohol started coming back up. Thankfully you sent that booze back into the wild, well away from the house. I hated to see you so out of it. I couldn’t calm you down at all.” He didn’t sound angry or judgmental, simply stated facts. Maybe he was a little sad. I couldn’t look at him. I stared at the lump of my knee under the blankets instead.
At the mention of me losing my guts, my stomach remembered I’d abused it, and I gagged. Before I could make a mess of our bed, Drew shoved a bucket into my arms he must have had waiting nearby, and I felt awful as I heaved and didn’t spit up much. The day was pure misery I fully deserved, and I spent the entire thing curled up in bed praying for death, while Drew kept coming in to make me drink blue Gatorade—the most disgusting flavor. It would forever be associated with tossing my stomach now.
“You’re skipping class,” I accused at one point, but he only shrugged and petted my hair while I wallowed in my misery and closed my eyes. The worse I felt, the sweeter he got, and that made my guilt double.
The sun was golden and peach in the windows by the time I was able to use my cane and hobble out of the bedroom to collapse on the couch in the living room. Drew didn’t say a word, just came out from the kitchen, which smelled like roasting chicken. He frowned, scooped an arm under my legs and put the other one around my back. I rolled my eyes as he picked me up and plopped me on his lap before getting comfortable on the couch. He secured his arms around my middle like he was afraid I’d run away.
For a while he blinked at me, and I traced a finger down his rounded nose that made him cute instead of scary, like he might be otherwise with a body his size. I ran my fingertip over his cheek and along his lips, and finally he caught it and kissed it.
“Can you tell me why you did it?”
Emotions stomped all over me. I was terrified to see the disappointment in his eyes, which made his chin a really appealing place to stare at. “I’m no good at anything except punching people, and I’m not even good at that anymore.”
“That’s not true, Peter.”
Shaking my head, I shrugged. “It is. I used to do this. Drink every time I felt this way. I don’t want to do it anymore, but I don’t know how to make it stop. The bad stuff just—” I slapped at my chest and my breath caught. “It lives in here.”
He rocked me from side to side and it was almost like I was on a boat. It was still hard to look at him. I was so ashamed. But he only rested his forehead against my temple. He hadn’t tossed me out on my ass. “We’ll figure it out. You should talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you,” I snapped.
His arms tightened around me. “Don’t you think maybe someone else—”
“No. No strangers.” I shuddered and burrowed in closer to him until I had my face tucked between his shoulder and neck. “Why did I just cry with you while I was drunk? I used to… I used to lash out.”
“Maybe you aren’t afraid with me.”
A tremble ran through my body. “I used to hurt Angel. I don’t really remember it. I know I have. He wouldn’t leave me alone to die in that fucking house, and I would hurt him to try to chase him off. I would hurt him….”
“Because he kept you alive?”
I shrugged and my vision went watery. “How can you love me? How can anyone? And why do I feel this way now?”
His breath was warm on my cheek. He kissed me there and let his lips rest on the spot for a while. “Because,” he said without moving away, his mouth tickling my skin. “You’re not scared here. You’re not worried about staying alive. You’re not worried Black will get you anymore, are you? You don’t want to die, do you?”
I shook my head and finally turned and hugged him back so hard I thought my arms might break off. “No, I don’t want to die.”
“We all respond to stress differently.”
“I tried to drink my past away again last night, and it didn’t work. I miss Angel, but now that I’m doing better…. I feel like I want to go looking for my little boy, but he doesn’t exist. He’s gone. He’s a man, and he might not hate me, but he fucking should. That little boy vanished. I pissed my time with him away, drinking and hating the world. Every time I saw him, I just wanted him to get the fuck away from me. But I also wanted him to stay. I was jealous he was doing things. I was awful.”
Drew held me closer and I fucking broke down. I couldn’t help it. I tried to stop, but the tears poured from me, and I had a flash—a memory of last night. I’d been crying when Drew found me on the sand. I sobbed against his chest, and he rocked me until the tears dried up and I was left with a clogged nose and eyes that felt two sizes bigger than usual. I’d never felt so loved and terrible at the same time.
“So, go apologize to your son,” he said roughly.
“I didn’t even let him know I was out of jail. I….”
“Fix it.”
