A soft beep told me I didn’t have time to come up with something to say. I had only just decided I was going to confront Rowan, but that was as far as I’d gotten, and now he wasback. Taking a deep breath, I decided to brew another cup of coffee and prayed for the first time in years, hoping this didn’t suddenly go sideways before I had a chance to get him to talk to me.
He walked in, and I hated that I could see from the slant of his shoulders and the lack of furrow in his forehead that he had been enjoying a peaceful walk. He sniffed and turned to see me standing there, jumping in surprise and then flashing a smile. Only for it to fade as he clearly sawsomethingwas wrong, he looked around to find the source of my distress, and when his eyes fell on the table, the furrow appeared on his forehead, and his shouldershunched.
“You went through my things,” he said in a tight voice. “I never expected you would do something like that.”
“I can tell you right now, it wasn’t intentional,” I said, glancing toward the bookshelf. “It was an accident while I was looking for something to read.”
“You have a phone, a tablet,” he said in the same tight voice. “Plenty of things to entertain you.”
“And when it comes to middle-of-the-night reading, I’m pretty old-fashioned,” I said. “Books used to get me through the first night or two in a new foster home. Nowadays, when I wake up feeling antsy or just can’t sleep, I reach for a book before a device. The familiarity helps me get tired again.”
His jaw tightened. “I see.”
“Rowan.”
“Don’t.”
“Well, I have to,” I said with a sigh. “Because what I should be doing is taking that bag and going to tell Reggie. That’s what I’msupposedto be doing. But instead I made a cup of coffee, and decided I was going to talk to you.”
“Of course you want to talk,” he snorted, and I saw his fingers twitch as if tempted to reach out and take the bag from the table,but was holding himself back. Not that taking the bag would have done him a lot of good, I had already seen the evidence, and my word would be enough to launch an investigation. Even if he got rid of the pills, I knew the agreement Rowan had signed to come to the resort meant we could drug test him whenever we wanted. The evidence would be in his body.
“Talking is the only thing I can offer you,” I said softly. “Because this...isn’t good, Rowan. You know you’re not supposed to have that, not without a medical reason, andthatwould have been in your file.”
“A file you can’t even see.”
“Pain management would have been included in your file for me to see; it’s one of the things that aren’t kept from me. I would need to know what kind of pain you were dealing with, so I didn’t risk you getting hurt. Not to mention the interactions and side effects of medication. I would need to know what you were on and what to keep an eye out for.”
His jaw twitched, and he pushed the bag away as he sat down, sending some of the pills rattling across the table. “I don’t need your judgment any more than I need your pity. Go do your job, I won’t fight it.”
“I’m not trying to fight you,” I told him softly, approaching slowly. “Why do you have those?”
His head snapped up, and he shot me an incredulous glare. “Are you serious? What else would someone need painkillers for? Pain!”
“People who are prescribed pain killers are often taken off them because they can be addictive, severely so.”
“You’re accusing me of being an addict now?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I amtryingto get you to talk to me. So please, Rowan, meet me at least halfway and talk.”
For a moment, his eyes blazed, and his jaw tightened so fiercely I thought he was going to stand up and start bellowingat me. Which would have done nothing to convince me he wasn’t an addict, not just because he wasn’t even trying to deny it, but because the defensiveness would have spoken volumes.
To my surprise, his shoulders slumped, and he looked at the floor with a heavy sigh. “That was the reason they took me off the pills. They were worried I was developing a codependence on them because of how many I ended up needing. They tried to push alternative treatments, physical therapy, other medications, even pot. None of it worked, not like the pills. But after the opiate epidemic scared the living hell out of everyone and doctors had to be more careful about handing out medication, they weren’t willing to hear that. It didn’t matter that the physical therapy only gave me more mobility without lessening the pain, that the other medications didnothing, or that the only way for pot to help with the pain was to be so stoned I couldn’t think straight; that didn’t matter.”
Taking that as the cue that I was safe to sit down, I took the seat next to him, letting him stare at the floor as he gathered his thoughts. After a minute, he raised his head, and I could see the desperation in his eyes. I didn’t know if he was pleading in his head for me to understand, but his eyes were shining with the hope that I might at least hear him out.
“The pills were the only thing that could take the edge off. My body was used to them, so they didn’t cloud my thinking the way the pain did. I...there are days when it feels like chainsaws are twisting over my back. It doesn’t matter how good you are at focusing, how strong your willpower is, when it feels like your back has grown teeth and started eating itself, there is nothing you can do. You aren’t even a person; you are a vessel for pain. I lay in bed, unable to do anything, for days. I was told repeatedly it would get better, but it didn’t. I couldn’t even do physical therapy after a while, because it set off worse pain. I couldn’t doanything, Luka. All I could do was lie there in agony and hopethat tomorrow it would be a little less. I couldn’t see my family or do my job, and on bad days, I could barely feed myself or use the bathroom. Those days could last for a week or more. I was contacted by someone who heard what I went through and offered the relief that medical bastards had been denying me because they were afraid of a fucking lawsuit,” he hissed, slamming his fist on the table, making me and a few of the pills jump. “That first relief in months was beyond amazing. If my head was a bit foggy from that first strong dose, it was worth not feeling like someone was ripping me apart.”
“I...don’t want you to take this as judgment, but wouldn’t that fogginess get in the way of working? You don’t seem like the type to enjoy being foggy,” I said with a wince. “Even if it does mean relief from the pain.”
He gave me a humorless smile. “And you’d be right. The first couple of weeks, I was essentially...stoned. I was so caught up in the relief that I was willing to bake my brains. But then, sense kicked in as the last dose of meds was wearing off, and I realized I couldn’t trade being infirm from pain for being a stoned idiot. It took me a while to find the balance, but I did. I get the same dosage and take them only when the pain is particularly bad. I can manage the pain when I need to without worrying about being high.”
“That’s quite a balancing act,” I said, cocking my head.
He snorted softly. “It was, but I’ve grown so used to it that it’s second nature. I’ve learned to read my body. I can tell when a day is going to be a bad one, and I can tell when it’s just going to be a little rougher than usual. The first means a pill, the second means I power through. I’m not an addict, Luka. I’m a man who’s been denied the medical treatment he needs to function, but instead of doing it the easy way with medical assistance, I’ve been forced to do it myself, andI’ve done it.”
I could only sit there as he finally stopped, taking another deep breath, this one shaking at the edges, and I realized that he had probably never told anyone. Not whatever friends he had on the outside, his family, no one. He had been dealing with the struggle of his body turning against him, without anyone to help him. He had probably kept it from others, not just because he didn’t want pity, but because he would sound like an addict justifying his pill popping.
And really, some part of mewasconsidering that a possibility. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but addicts often lied to downplay how bad things were, or to ensure access to their supply. Maybe that was what was going on here, and I needed to take action immediately, even if it meant he would hate me.
