Rock Bottom (Bullet) (5 page)

Chapter Five

WOW.  A LITTLE feisty.  Jenna was going to be a force to be reckoned with, but in a good way.  Ethan walked out slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.  Part of him was disappointed, because he’d like nothing more than to nail that little number.  But she was smart too.  He’d only gone to college for one year, and he didn’t know that he’d learned much of anything during that time.  He’d been too busy scoring and trying to get his band—located elsewhere—off the ground.  This young woman had to have at least one degree, maybe two.

So why couldn’t she counsel him
and
fuck him?  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been with a woman.  No, that wasn’t entirely true.  He’d managed to score once in rehab, and if he and the girl would have been caught, they both probably would have been kicked out.  As it was, it had been a quickie, because they were both trying to avoid someone walking in on them and finding out.

But
since?  No.

It wa
sn’t that he didn’t want to be with someone, but he was trying hard to stay sober.  He had to be careful not to get involved with a woman who’d make him fall off the wagon again.  It would be so easy.  Sex, drugs, and music went together…thus, the old saying.  It would be way too easy.

But this woman?
  Hot damn.  She was sexy and intelligent and, he suspected, a little metal.  He couldn’t tell because she was wearing a blazer over her blouse and jeans, but he thought he was right.  He was sure she had recognized him.  Then she’d turned him down without much thought.  He was no shrink, but he thought it meant one of two things—either she
did
want to sleep with him and was trying to hide it, or she really had no interest and, in fact, disliked him.

He needed to find out for sure.  He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without knowing.  If that made him look like an arrogant asshole rock star, so be it.

So he paused on the sidewalk and waited for her to approach.  She didn’t startle seeing him, probably because he was bathed in light from the street lamp.  “Can I ask you a question?”

She got closer to him.  “Sure.”

“Would it be so bad to go out with me?”

He thought he could see a flicker of a smile on her face
, but that was all it was.  She asked, “Do you think that would help your recovery?”

Ethan smiled then.  “I don’t think it would hurt it.”

She drew in a deep breath.  “I have to disagree with you.  Something you need to understand, Ethan, is that you’re vulnerable right now…whether you want to admit it or not.  It’s very easy for people in your position to look to those who are helping and feel a connection, often a connection that’s not there.  People like me are a lifeline between your past, the past you want to rid yourself of, and a future full of hope.  But we’re not saviors.  We can only guide you.  You have to do the hard part.”

“I know that.”

“But sometimes it will feel to you like we care about you personally.  Don’t get me wrong—we do and will—but it won’t be what you think.”

Time to turn up the charm.
  Ethan had learned from a very young age to use what he had.  He hadn’t had the advantage of being able to shrink into a little ball of nothing that people ignored or disregarded, so when the shit started to hit the fan at home, he was a target for people’s attention, whether good or bad.  People had often commented on his looks, though, even as a child, and he’d learned to use them to his advantage.  Soon, people were drawn to him, and before he started having bouts with the dark cloud that would make him lose his way, he realized that, along with his looks, he could charm people.  Because they were naturally drawn to him, he figured out early on how to win people over.  He’d passed more than one class in high school thanks to that ability.  Surely, Jenna was no different.  Yeah, she could see through him—she knew he was a junkie who really needed help—but maybe she would also understand that he was a man with needs…and, goddamn, he wanted her.  So he smiled that cocky smile that he knew melted panties and said, “I’m not talking about love, sweetheart.  I get the whole emotional bullshit stuff you’re talking about.  I just want to know if you’ve ever just seen someone and wondered what they were like in bed.”  Her eyes narrowed a little, but otherwise she was giving nothing away.  Ethan figured that was part of the training for her job—maintaining as neutral an expression as possible.  But he thought he might be on the right track.  So he lowered his voice and got just a little closer, enough that he was in her personal space.  He wanted her to
feel
him, even if she never actually touched him.  “You can’t tell me you’ve never just looked at someone and needed to taste them, be with them.”  Oh, yes, there was a definite change in her eyes.  “There has to have been at least one time when you looked at someone and knew you had to fuck them…or die trying.”  Still, she said nothing.  “Am I right?”

Her nostrils flared.  Oh, God…that was
not
good, because Ethan could feel things getting a little snug down below.  This woman was incredibly hot, and she was even sexier angry.  He was considering pissing her off more just to get a rise out of her, because that was becoming a turn on.  As furious as she looked, though, her voice was calm and quiet.  “That may be true with you, Ethan, but not all of us are dominated by our hormones.  Some of us have a little self-control…and maybe that’s where you need to start in your journey to recovery.”  She took a deep breath.  “See if you can figure out where to draw the line.”

Ethan grinned, unable to help himself.  “Where’s the fun in that?”

She was not amused.  “Maybe it’s time to get serious.”  She reached into her black purse and pulled out a card holder.  She took out a business card and handed it to him.  “When you’re feeling less comical, you can call.”  She turned on her heel and started walking down the sidewalk.

“So I guess coffee’s out of the question then?”

“You’re a laugh riot,” she said, but she didn’t turn around.  She just kept walking.

Ethan let out a breath and rubbed his neck
again.  She was either going to be a tough nut to crack, or she was serious.  He hadn’t met a woman like that in a long time.  He let out a breath and walked to his truck parked a few yards down the block.  As he did, he tried hard to remember the last time it had taken some effort to coax a woman into bed…and he couldn’t remember the last time.

No, that wasn’t true.  He had to give it some thought, but it came back to him.  It was years ago before his band had gotten a recording contract.  It was when his ex-wife Valerie was still in his band.  They’d been on the road touring—before they’d gotten married—and he’d been thinking a lot about her.  He’d
been wanting to get back together with her.  One of those nights, he’d pulled her onto his lap and told her he loved her and needed her…and she’d rejected him.  Flat-out spurned him.  He’d tried not to let it bother him, but he couldn’t help it.  It had sent him careening over that precarious edge once again, and it was the first time he’d landed in the hospital because of an overdose.  No, it wasn’t the first time he’d ever OD’d, but he was convinced he would have died had his friends not rushed him to the hospital.

Since then, though, as someone women considered a “rock god,” he hadn’t had any problems getting women into bed.  In fact, most of the time, especially with groupies, it was their idea…and it was fun making them beg for him.

Now, though, looking back over the last few years, many of those encounters made him feel empty.  Most of the time he’d been cheating on Val, but it had felt like a compulsion.  No, he wasn’t a sex addict.  He knew that much, but he had this…darkness inside, something ugly, like a dark cloud, and sometimes the best way to disregard it was by getting laid.  His wife?  Well, she had known something was wrong with him.  She knew he had some problems.  She’d stuck by his side through so much, more than any other woman probably would have.  She’d loved him, but she’d cared more for someone else, and Ethan had known it, and he knew he himself wasn’t the right guy for her.  More than that, though, he understood that—much as Val loved him—she had no idea what he was dealing with.  She wanted to, yes, but…she’d always seemed so innocent, so pure.  He hadn’t wanted to burden her with it.  So the sick, nasty, twisted, dark things in his head…he could take them all out on the women who threw themselves at his feet.  They wanted it.  They really did beg for it.  Val, though…all she’d ever asked for was love, and he gave it to her as best he could.

But now he wondered, and he really doubted, if he could ever treat a woman right, the way she truly deserved to be treated.  He was dubious.  He’d been dealing with women the same way for so long that he didn’t know if he could put the genie back in the bottle.  Sure, he’d lavished Val on occasion—found ways to show her he loved her when he could—but ultimately she saw the monster inside.  He’d never forget the time he’d wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed.

His hands gripped the steering wheel.  He watched as his knuckles turned white.  That was all in the past now, and Valerie and Brad seemed happy.  Brad was not only treating Val like a queen, he was playing stepfather to Ethan’s son and doing a great job.  In fact, he was doing such a good job that Ethan was worried about his son forgetting who his real dad was.  He was afraid little Christopher would grow up hating and resenting his real father…and so, even if Ethan could never find a way to make things up to Valerie or would never be able to have a real relationship with a woman again, he did want to find a way to bond with his son and become the father he should be.

And that thought gnawed at him until the next day when he finally picked up the phone and called Jenna…this time to ask
with humility and sincerity about her counseling services.

Chapter Six

JENNA HAD HARDLY slept a wink the night before.  Her thoughts had raced back and forth.  She was angry with herself for falling for Ethan Richards’s charms.  The man was a sociopath—she was fairly certain of that.  Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t help him through some of his addiction problems, but from what she could see, he needed a lot more help than that.  She’d suggested some one-on-one time with him, and at that time, she’d be able to identify a few things…but the man had some problems.  She was considering calling Dr. Thomas’s office later to see what meds he’d put Ethan on.

She was even angrier with herself for other reasons.  Ethan had gotten under her skin somehow.  Well, no, she knew how.  The guy had an unbelievable amount of charisma.  He was hot, sure, but he was a charming devil, and he knew how to use it.  She could tell, just by the confused look he’d gotten on his face
last night, that he wasn’t used to hearing the word
no
.  So maybe that was a good thing.  It might make him start thinking…and that was something he needed to do.  It was clear to Jenna that he was burying a lot of his thoughts and emotions deep—and he’d never be able to heal that way.

So as she stood under the warm shower, she tried to wake herself up.  She could barely believe how her subconscious had toyed with the memory of Ethan.  When she’d actually been able to sleep, she dreamed about him.  He’d asked her the night before if she’d ever just wanted to fuck someone to see what that person was like.  She’d given him some offhand answer, telling him she didn’t let her hormones rule her, and while that was true, she didn’t tell him the whole truth, which was that
she did find herself attracted to him.  He was a gorgeous specimen of man…but he wasn’t right for her.  In fact, until he got his head on straight, he’d be a bad choice for any woman.

But the damag
e had already been done.  He’d burrowed under her skin, and she knew it would be tough to get him out.  Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  She had a history of choosing the wrong guy, and that was the main reason why she’d pretty much sworn off men a year earlier.  She had a bad habit of choosing the men who were the absolute worst picks on earth.  This time, though, she was going to be smart.  She wasn’t going to start dating Ethan.  She’d protect herself, keep herself safe, and then he could never hurt her.

Her mind was still mulling those thoughts when she listened to her voicemails at work after her first counseling session
that morning.  One of them was from Ethan, taking her up on her advice.  And he sounded more earnest than he had the night before.  The cockiness was gone, replaced by a softer version of himself.  “Yeah, Jenna…Ethan Richards.  You gave me your card last night, and I’ve been thinking about it.  I…uh…I do need help, and if you’re offering…  Well, I promise to behave myself.”  He left his number and hung up.

The problem now was that Jenna didn’t think she should try counseling him, not after her night of lost sleep and steamy dreams. 
She knew that wouldn’t be fair to him, though, not after making the offer.  Still, she had to protect herself.  So she returned her other calls first, and then picked up the phone to dial Ethan.

He answered the phone by saying, “I wondered if you were
gonna call me back.”  Wow.  He had a beautiful voice.  It was smooth and soft, but there was just a slight edge to it.  She knew Ethan didn’t sing for his band—the other guitarist did and the bassist sang backup—but she thought he should.

No, that was probably just her hormones talking now.

Yeah, he had a smooth, sexy voice, and she continued having problems shaking the dreams out of her head.  That voice didn’t help.  But she got her bearings and took a deep breath, ready to say what she needed to.  “Hi, Ethan.  Uh…after giving it a lot of thought, I don’t think I’m the person you should be seeing.”

He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “Why?  You don’t think you can help?”  She got ready to answer when he said, “Oh…it was my smart
ass mouth, wasn’t it?  Look…I get out of line a lot.  I say shit I shouldn’t.  I’ve never had a good filter, and I say more things I regret than I don’t.  But Dr. Thomas seems to think you’re good at what you’re doing, and I saw the way you interacted with everyone last night.  They fucking love you.  They worship you.  That tells me you’re a rock star in your own right.”

She sighed.  This was going to b
e hard.  “I don’t think so.  It’s not
me
—the counseling works based upon the work of the individual.  I have a lot of folks who haven’t been the success stories you had the pleasure of meeting last night.  It’s up to the person.  I just help guide them through the process.”

“No, there’s more to it than that.  Jenna
—can I call you
Jenna
?”

Her breath caught in her throat.  She hadn’t expected to enjoy hear
ing him say her name, but she liked hearing it breathed by his voice.  It sounded…really nice.  She tried to keep herself calm when she replied.  “Sure.”

“What I wanted to say was yeah,
you can’t quit for people or make them stay quit, but you motivate people to do it.  I’ve been through rehab more than once.  There are good counselors out there…and there are some shitty ones.  You’re not one of the shitty ones.”

She knew his statement was probably meant to be a compliment, but it didn’t make her heart swell with pride.  “Gee, thanks.”

She heard him laugh through the phone.  “I mean that.  You’ve got heart.  You care, and it shows.”

“Well, thank you.  But back to the matter at hand.”

“I want you to be my counselor.  So when do I start?”

“Seriously, Ethan, I think you need to see someone else.” 
Because if he didn’t, she might give into her deepest, darkest desires.

His voice was firmer and yet warmer somehow.  “I mean it, Jenna.  I want
you
to counsel me.”

She hoped he could hear her when she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He didn’t speak for several seconds, and she started to wonder if he’d hung up the phone.  When he spoke, though, Jenna started wondering if this was the same man she’d spoken to the night before.  His speech was stilted, and he was struggling to get it all out.  “I’m…what’s the word you used last night? 
Broken.
  Yeah, I’m broken and fucked up.  My life is a complete shambles.  I…uh…well, I guess I should tell you all this shit in our first session, but…I need someone I can trust.  Okay, so I came on way too strong last night.  That’s just how I am.  But you got it right.  I am in a million pieces, and I don’t know where the fucking glue is.  I’m…”  His voice dropped so low she had to strain to hear him.  “I’m afraid that if I don’t get started, I’m going to start using again.  I…I can’t do it again.  I just can’t.  I need your help.”

Jenna swallowed.  How could she say no to that?  She’d have to be a cold, heartless human being, and she wasn’t.  So she walked over to her desk to grab her appointment book.  “What does
next week look like for you?”

* * *

Later on, Jenna called Dr. Thomas’s office.  If she was going to counsel Ethan, she needed to know what his psychiatrist had planned and what meds Ethan was taking.  She reached Mary, the receptionist, who asked Jenna to wait while she pulled Ethan’s chart.  It was only a few minutes when she said, “He’s not on any meds yet.”

Jenna felt her brow furrow
, and she set her pen on the desk.  “He’s
not
?”

“Nope.”

“What’s the doctor treating him for?”

“Nothing yet.
  Apparently, Mr. Richards walked out of their first appointment before the doctor could prescribe anything.  But he has some notes here.”  After a few seconds, she said, “Patient said he was done for the day.  Possible depression, other issues.  Recovering addict, multiple addictions.  He has an appointment Monday, and I know Dr. Thomas will try to get him on something.  He usually tries to narrow stuff down and prescribe on their first appointment.  Oh…he also has a note here that he’s going to mention psychotherapy.”

“Well…he’s going to be coming to my office later this afternoon.”

“Counseling?”

“Well, yeah.”  She knew she would be overstepping her bounds if she suggested she play psychologi
st.  “But a psychologist might not be a bad idea either.  The guy’s got issues.”

“I thought it was weird that Dr. Thomas wanted me to schedule him for another appointment so soon, but without meds, I see why. 
Still…weird.”

Jenna tried not to smile.  “You’d have to know Mr. Richards.  He can be quite…adamant.  And he’s used to getting his way.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be the first patient like that we’ve ever had.”

“Yes, but he’s also pretty famous and has a lot of money…so he’s used to calling the shots.  And if Dr. Thomas hadn’t done that, I’m sure Mr. Richards would have shopped elsewhere.”

All the other words had been lost on the receptionist.  “Famous?”  Jenna could hear the girl’s voice drop.  Well, she should have been watching her tone anyway, and Jenna was sure the girl had closed the sliding glass window for privacy anyway.  “What would I know him from?”  Jenna told her that Ethan was a founding member of the heavy metal band Fully Automatic.  The girl knew who they were but obviously wasn’t a fan.

Jenna knew she probably didn’t need to remind the girl, but she liked Mary and didn’t want her getting in trouble.  “Remember…don’t treat him any differently now even though you know that.”

“I won’t.”

The girl chatted with Jenna a few minutes
, but Jenna was watching the clock tick forward.  She was regretting letting Ethan talk her into counseling.  Dr. Thomas was right—the guy needed some serious psychotherapy and, yeah, probably medication as well.  If she was right and Ethan was suffering from depression, drugs could help.  But maybe there were other issues there as well, things she wouldn’t be able to identify.  Yeah, she’d taken several psychology classes, but she didn’t feel qualified to do that sort of work.  She was used to dealing with addictions and addictions only.

Well, no, that wasn’t exactly true either.  People weren’t just their addictions.  They were so much more, and she’d discover
ed just in the short time she’d been in this line of work that people often used because they were helping themselves.  People with chronic pain became addicted—not just to prescription painkillers, but other drugs as well, alcohol being the most common.  People with mental pain did the same thing.  They were treating themselves instead of going to a doctor or psychiatrist.  The biggest problem, though, was that the addictions were sometimes worse than the ailment the patients had been treating.  Well, not necessarily worse, but they were another hurdle for the patients to leap over.  Jenna’s job was trying to help the people she counseled learn to find other ways to deal with their pain and problems so that using wasn’t necessary.

The problem with Ethan, though…Jenna shook her head.  There wasn’t just one problem with Ethan.  First of all, because he was
famous, he thought he deserved special treatment.  She hoped she’d nipped that thought in the bud already, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it came up again.  There was also another problem, and that was his attitude toward her.  If he couldn’t show her the proper respect, there would be no way they could work through his problems.  But the worst part was not knowing what all he was up against.  She thought she could handle helping him work through depression, but if there were other issues—if, for example, he were truly sociopathic—she didn’t know that she’d be able to show him how to stay on the right path.  She might be taking a bigger bite than she’d ever be able to chew.