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I looked at Bree, “So long as we’re not bringing up relationships, yes. Because I think I will make an offer on that home. I’ve got more than enough money saved, but for some strange reason, I’m starting to think my asshole boss, Adam, is fucking with me and stealing my commissions. Jesus, where is Spencer when I need him? He could sniff this man out in a heartbeat. It’s a damn shame he concerned himself with sniffing out me and my family issues instead.”
“Let’s go home,” Bree said. “I want to show you what I have designed for the place.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Avery said, “before we end up in a turf war with those people over there.”
“Thank you all for being there for me tonight. It did help, no matter how messed up the entire situation.”
After we left, I drove home with a bit of peace, but one glance back at the homeless people spending their night in the park made me wonder if I was leaving my brother on that hill or somewhere in the dark with no place to call home. I had no idea and had no way of processing how that made me feel. It would be nice to hear from him again and know if he is okay.
How was it that over the course of a month, I’d managed to lose the only two men I loved? I didn’t understand what was going on with my life.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
SPENCER
I rolled my pen through my fingers, studying the file Jeff, the private investigator, had sent over. My eyes roamed over all the evidence, which should’ve been looked into further after Nat’s mom passed in her car accident, but something had put a stop to the investigations.
“The fucker probably paid off a dirty cop,” I said softly, swiveling in my office chair before I turned to face the windows behind my desk.
“Don’t they all?” I heard Jim say, announcing his presence in my office.
I turned and rose to see Shane standing at his side. The kid looked like Jim plucked his sorry ass off the closest park bench and brought him up to me.
“How the hell are you getting by, man?” I asked, deeply concerned for him.
“I’m paying the price of being an addict who hasn’t hit rock bottom—”
“Oh, fuck off with that,” I said while Jim nodded and took his exit. “I don’t want any excuses. I want solutions.”
Shane rolled his eyes, and if I didn’t have any love for Natalia in my heart, I would have asked his disrespectful drug addict ass to leave my presence. But I loved the woman and had a soft spot for what she and her brother went through with their shitbird of a father.
“I see you’re currently high,” I said. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
“How would you know if I’m high?” he growled.
“Because only someone high as fuck would be brave enough to walk into my office and roll their goddamn eyes at me,” I answered, walking around my desk and sitting on the edge. “Let’s get straight to brass tacks about how we’re going to drag your ass to rock bottom and get you back up on your feet again.”
“Man,” he said, tears forming in his eyes, “I’m trying. I’ve tried. I don’t know what to fucking do. My life feels hopeless, and whenever things start to feel great, I fucking bottom out. The drugs keep me alive; they get me through. They—”
“It’s all a lie, man, the drugs and what you believe they do for you.” I sighed. “I’m not an expert in addicts and why certain people tend to abuse substances for their perceived survival, but I know that it’s all an illusion you’re creating. So, every time the high wears off, and the façade falls, you hurry to your next fix instead of looking at your reality.”
“How would you know if you’ve never been down this road?”
“I’ve never been down that road because I never wanted to look the way you do now. You look like death, yet you sit here and tell me that shit breathes life into you so you can go on another day.” I stood and exhaled, not knowing where to start. “I want to help you. We discussed this last week, but you fell off the face of the earth on me,” I waved my hand toward his appearance, “for obvious reasons, I see.”
“I just don’t know—”
“Just how high are you?” I asked. The kid looked like he was half asleep.
“I’m doing good. I keep everything at a base level, always the same amount.”
I stared at him in shock. “Base level? So now you’re regulating your drug abuse? How the fuck does that work?”
“I take normal doses.”
“Normal doses? What exactly is a normal dose of an illicit narcotic, huh?” I had to stop myself from yelling at his ludicrous fucking logic. “Okay, this shit isn’t going to work for me. Until you get sober, I cannot have an adult conversation with you.” I stood and walked around to sit at my desk. “By the look of you, I assume you still have not communicated with your sister?”
“No,” he said, blowing out a hard breath.
