Page 29 of Addiction

“No. I mean, why are you doing this after everything I’ve done?”

He studies me for a second and a look of melancholy covers his face. But it’s his words that hit me hard. “Because everyone deserves a second chance, Asher. Not only that… I promised Pete.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your dad was very much aware of his life expectancy. Granted, he could have gone on years because having a stroke doesn’t always mean a death sentence. But he wasn’t stupid either. He knew after his first seizure the road he was headed down, and because of that, he asked me to look out for his family like he’d looked out for mine. So I promised him I would.”

Even though Mark is a great friend and has stood by me no matter what, his relationship with Dad had gone back years. Military men stick together. We’re brothers. Pop had been a proud man, SEAL, husband, and father so him asking Mark to look out for us doesn’t surprise me at all.

“And because of that, you’re doing this for me?”

“I’m not just doing it for your dad, Asher. I’m willing to help you out of a hole here because, despite everything, you’re a good man.”

I huff out a laugh in disagreement but he continues.

“It’s true. You’ve always worked hard, you were a dedicated SEAL, you kicked ass when working for Cole’s Security and everyone respected you. Yes, you’ve lost your way. But who doesn’t when war is involved? What happened in Iraq wasn’t your fau—”

“Don’t.” I point, as instant fury hits my chest and I grit out my words. “Don’t say it.”

His hard stare holds mine, and I loathe him for flipping this conversation on its head and going to a place I can’t bear to face—a place that has too many haunts; a place my nightmares take me where I am forced to relive that fretful moment in my sleep.

“When you go to war it’s expected that you’ll lose men, Asher. It comes with the job.”

“A job I failed to do, and we both know it,” I grit out. “I can’t even blame that one on alcohol, Mark.”

“Don’t let me die. Don’t let me die. Asher. Please. Don’t let me die.”

I slam my eyes shut and bite down on my back teeth, not wanting to fall into the world of trauma and feelings.

They were all killed because of me.

He died because of me.

Wyatt. My best friend.

I run my hands through my hair and pull at the strands.

"Asher, I can't even begin to imagine what it's like in your head now or what it was like back then, but you can't think about what you did or didn't do. You'll drive yourself nuts." Mark’s tone is lower, full of concern.

"Too late for that." I sigh, now looking at the floor.

“All I’m saying is you’ve been through so much and, at the end of the day, regardless of when it started or how it ended, alcoholism is an illness. You deserve this second chance, and I wanna help you. So take it.” He steps closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Take it. You hear me?”

I nod, although I still don’t allow myself to believe what he is saying to me because doubt can be a mean fucker when it wants to be.

“Okay. Okay.”

“Good. Now, let’s get out of here and get these plans rolling.”

We close up the warehouse and head toward his car, the Virginia air warming my skin.

"Have you thought about employees? Because this place is too big to manage on your own. You need a team behind you."

It is something I’ve thought about. I need anyone in the health and fitness game to come on board. "Those with wider experiences in different programs would be beneficial, but personal trainers are just as good for the moment. Once up and running, I can look at getting more staff in to take classes.”

He nods. "And the physical therapist for the rehabilitation side of it?"

"I've got contacts in that department from working in the navy. Unless you can think of anyone who has a connection to Cole’s Security?"