Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1) (18 page)

“Ben, how does it feel to be back here?” New doc for group, but he’d seen this one around before.

“Hey, Doc.” Benny waved one hand as he flopped into the thinly cushioned chair nearest the door. “Feels like shit. How you doin’?” No laughter from the group, but he didn’t expect any. There weren’t any faces he knew. All his rehab cohorts had gone on to graduate, moving on. They wouldn’t be back as failures.
Not like me
.

“Well, let’s see what we can do to ensure this is the exception, shall we?”

Cup of coffee in hand, he lifted it to her in salute, letting the movement be his only response. Smoothly, she picked up the thread of the topic her group had been discussing before he walked in, and he listened as she covered strategies to recognize when a behavioral or environmental trigger was in play and how best to sidestep it, keeping to the sober side of the track no matter what. He found a way to contribute to the conversation when she asked for additional triggers they might think about. He snorted and raised a hand, waiting patiently as she worked her way around the semi-circle of occupied chairs. When she pointed to him, lifting her arched eyebrow in a question, he responded with one word. “Success.”

***

“Hey, shrimp. How’s it hangin’?” There was noise in the background, and Benny heard Ruby’s voice, then the cooing of a baby.

“I catch you at a bad time?” He had a favor to ask and didn’t want to rush to it if he didn’t have to. Ease into it as it were. Stealing attention from needy babies would not be the way to go.

“Naw, Ruby just took Dani to lay her down. Allen’s already snoozin’.” Slate laughed softly, affection thick in his voice and Benny knew he was watching Ruby walk away. “It’s never a bad time to talk to my baby bro.”

“You…you talked to Mom, right? About before, back when she was in Enoch?” The words came tumbling out, and Benny was already off script, not having meant to dive in so deeply from the start. “About before you…went looking for work.” He choked out the words, the phrase “left me” so close to escaping, he had to clamp his lips shut for a moment.

“Yeah, I did. She had it tougher than we knew, but we were kids, Benny. What the hell did we know?” Benny knew if he could see him, Slate would be standing with one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling and massaging, trying to ease the decades’ worth of weight he carried for everyone around him. “She landed in Colorado. Found a program she could work, kicked her habits. Came out the other end stronger.”

“Did she tell you what worked for her? Doc says different things work for different folks. We were talking and she said not to get discouraged, because different doesn’t mean bad.” Now the words were coming faster, and he didn’t think he could stop the flood if he tried. “Like group seems to click for me. Better than the confessional of a meeting podium.” Meetings left him frustrated. Most people didn’t appear to want to talk about what was working, only about where they were in the program, or what the response had been from their families. Which worked for a lot of people, but not him.

“I feel like I need people to bounce things off, people who will give it to me straight, but all the time. Not only when I ask what they think. If I’m talking and what I’m sayin’ is shit, then I don’t want to spend time chasing a dung heap.” Mason’s face swam up from his memories, and Benny once again felt the weight of piercing grey eyes holding him in place as Mason made Benny’s situation clear. “I…you were talking once…about a…talking about…you know. A different thing.”

The words dried up; he was left with an incomplete statement, and he didn’t know if he’d given Slate enough to figure out what he thought he needed. As ever, his brother surprised him. “Sober companion. I’m way out ahead of you, shrimp.”

Air whooshed out of Benny, a breath he wasn’t even aware he had held in. “Yeah.” The single whispered word seemed to reassure his brother.

Sounding confident, Slate said, “I’ve talked to folks who’ve done this. The person has to be a fit for you, but also not. Because they need to have enough of their own brand of tough to stand against you if you need it. Not a pushover, not a friend. A paid companion on your path to staying sober.” Now he sounded relieved, and Benny was glad he could hand this to Slate, at least. “I have a few applications that came in yesterday. I’ll sort through the mess, and we’ll interview when you get home. But, Benny?”

Slate paused, and it seemed his name was a question because he didn’t continue until Benny said, “Yeah?”

“They work for me, not you. They report to me, about you. And it’s just how it’s going to be.” Iron and steel didn’t have anything on the strength of purpose populating Slate’s voice. “You understand everything upfront, we won’t have any problems.”

“I got it. I get it.” He swallowed. Words that once had come so easily now sticking in his throat. “Slate…Andy?” It was his turn to wait for his brother’s response, and he wasn’t left hanging long.

“Yeah, shrimp?”

His voice, strong in the beginning, trailed off to a barely heard whisper by the end. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know you do.” He could hear the smile in Slate’s voice. “I love you, too, shrimp.”

Benny looked up to see Bear walking through the bar towards where he sat waiting, guitar in hand, up near the stage. Bear had called earlier and set up the meet, a call Slate didn’t screen, so he must have known about it ahead of time. From his tone on the phone, Benny hoped Bear wanted to jam, because he was ready to get back to it. Friendly, if brief, their conversation gave Benny hope things would be able to continue as they’d been before. Playing, jamming and collaborating on music. Right now, however, from the look on his friend’s face, he feared the purpose of this meeting might be very different from his expectations.

As he reached Benny, Bear reached out and snagged a chair, flipping it so when he sat so he was straddling it, with the small barrier of the back between them.

“Hey,” Benny said, plastering a sheepish smile on his face. “How are you doing?” He was expecting a lecture like Mason had given him as he dropped him off in Phoenix. A reminder he didn’t want to fuck Slate over. Everyone had their eye on him, watching and weighing his actions against his brother’s reactions.

For a long moment, Bear sat silently and looked at him. Benny’s smile faded as the pressure in the room seemed to double, then triple, increasing the longer the silence went on. Then Bear sighed and without preamble said, “Lucia likes you. She likes you a lot."

Benny gave Bear a small shrug, feeling his lips twisting to the side with the flood of anxiety that swelled inside him at this start to their conversation. "I like her, too."

The full weight of Bear’s glare landed on him, and Benny felt his stomach clench.
Shit. Shit shit shit
.

"Don’t matter. Ain't happening. Not now. You seriously think I'm going to let you in there with her?" Bear shook his head. "Ain't happening."

Not something he’d expected. His brain stuttered, making it so he had no response. Couldn’t think of anything but the look on Luce’s face when he kissed her. How she leaned into him whenever she was near. How it felt to sleep innocently next to her, waking early just to have time to drink his fill of looking at her relaxed, beautiful face, her arm still claiming him even in her sleep. The feel of her hand on his heart when she reassured him that the music was inside him. Stunned, Benny sat and stared at him, hearing his mouth stammering, “What? Wh…why?"

"Do you not know where you spent the last four weeks? I do.” Bear leaned in. “She doesn't. And she won't. Because she likes you." Bear shook his head again. "But you aren’t the guy she likes. You’re an asshole who thinks his shit don’t stink. Who doesn’t know good when it’s standing right in front of him. You’re a user. I ain’t talkin’ drugs and you know it. And my Luce”—Bear flipped out a hand, pointing to Benny—“liked what she thought she saw. What she hoped was there. So I’ll allow her to keep the illusion. That nice guy. That sweet guy who takes her for ice cream, the guy who makes her laugh, the guy who plays fucking beautiful music. But, it's all you get of her. She keeps that, and you get shit-all because you fucked up one too many times. You’ll let her go. Let her go, take your goddamned hooks out of her, and let her find a decent man. One who can love her how she deserves."

Benny sat for a minute, frozen. Hearing the seconds loudly tick past in his head, frantically considering and discarding what he could say that would change Bear’s mind. He had to.
I can’t do that. Can’t glimpse what might be and have it ripped away. Never have the promise of her love.
He went with honesty. "I love her."

His words were met with a quick, resolute headshake. "No, you don’t. You love booze. You love yourself. You even love the music. Got that whole rock star thing going for you. You do not love her. You take your hooks outta her, unlatch however you gotta do that, but you take care with my girl. Leave her with the memory of the man she thinks you are.”

"
But
…"

With a roar, Bear came off the chair, turning it over in his rush to get at Benny. And in his movements, Benny saw what his friend had been holding in check. Gone was the laughing and affable man. In his place, a dangerous, protective father, set to make the world better for his girl. In a silent, quiet corner of his brain, he was glad she had that, wanted to be the one to give it to her. To do better for her, to make things right. Bear pulled him back into the moment, wrapped his hand around Benny's throat and picked him up, pushed him against the wall. Held him there on tiptoes. Leaning close, Bear hissed, “You do not understand me. This. Is. Not. Happening." He shook Benny. "Not today. Not tomorrow. Not fucking ever.”

***

“You are not my favorite person right now,” Ruby told him. “You need to go away. I'm tired. I'm grumpy. I'm a milk machine. And the babies are sleeping, so I’m taking advantage by napping. Go away, Benny.”

Benny sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at an exhausted-looking Ruby, who lay there with resolutely closed eyes. She was his last hope, but seeing the look on her face, he felt a wash of despair and desperation move through him. “Ruby,” he said, “please. Please, God. Please, you gotta help me. Luce...” He paused for a moment and took a breath. “She means everything, Ruby.”

Ruby abruptly sat up, pushing her hair away from her face, frustration and fatigue making her look a little crazed. “No. I won’t. I can’t. You can't do this, Benjamin. You can't. I know what happened, what Bear said. And honestly, I get where he’s coming from. What you gotta get is your brother and Bear are
brothers
. Bear doesn't want you for his girl. He doesn't. He’s seen the devastation you leave in your wake. He doesn't want you for his girl. He’s her dad now. He gets to make that call. Do what he has to do to keep her safe, sane, and healthy.”

Benny looked at Ruby, confused. He thought she liked him, but saying he left devastation behind him didn’t say,
I like you
. It said something entirely different.

She continued. “You cannot set your brother against
his brother
. You can't do it. Slate has given up enough for you. Don’t up the cost to something he can’t pay. I know you love him.” She reached out and grabbed his hands, shaking them to make her point. “I know you do. Do not”—she shook his hands again—“make him make this choice.”

It was at that moment Benny got it. He experienced an epiphany so piercing, it felt like something ruptured inside him, and he bled understanding and loss.

All these years, he thought Andy had left him behind. He hadn’t understood. He couldn’t. He didn’t have the same kind of loyalty inside him. Now he saw, Andy had always loved him. Had done what he could his whole life to try to make Benny a better person. Someone who would make the world a better place in turn. His brother had never failed him, but now he could see how time and again, he’d failed Andy. Hadn’t cared what his brother had to set aside for him, only taking in what he wanted from their interactions, never seeing the price Andy paid. Like Ruby said, this one would be huge. Crippling. Because Andy without the Rebels wasn’t Andy. Wasn’t Slate. Asking him to intervene with Bear would break something inside Slate.
Found it, finally. Here’s the line I won’t cross.
Without another word, he stood and walked away.

***

Benny sat on the floor, back pressed to the front of the couch, phone in hand. Flipping through pictures, his thumb swiped across the screen, again and again, each motion revealing another smiling image of Luce. Gorgeous. Sweet. Kind beyond belief. Bear said she loved him. No, Bear had said she loved a false image of him. Something he wasn’t, might never be. A lie.

He loved her, though. Loved her so much. The words escaped, hanging in the air, the pain in his own voice slicing through him. “God, I love you, Luce.” He swallowed hard, then looked at the picture frozen on the screen. Touching it, he made it come alive in his head, feeling the water soaking into his clothing, the sounds of the fountains shooting streams into the air, the tumbling racket the water made when it hit the umbrella. Captured at an angle that put his face out of focus, Lucia was front and center. The softness of her expression revealed even then she might have loved him. Lips to the side of his face, her eyes were closed, lashes drifting to touch her cheeks.
Love
.

A reminder popped up and he stared at it for a moment before dismissing it. Group would begin in fifteen minutes. He looked over at the counter where a still-full bottle of failure taunted. “Not this time.” His voice surprised him, and he shook his head. Opening his phone app, he poked some buttons until the call connected, then waited for the person at to pick up. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he decided this was worth being late. “Set it up,” he said, and disconnected before the party at the other end could respond.