Grungy. Disheveled.Desperate.
This is bad. This is so bad.And what the hell am I supposed to tell the police?Not only had he been trying to steal from me, but he looks strung out. He’s thin and pale, dark purple bags haunting his bloodshot glassy eyes.
Once upon a time, I convinced myself that I hated Aiden. Not because we fought over Kendall and not because I had deep misplaced anger over my mom’s accident. But because I envied him and his golden life. His simple, uncomplicated functional family. I was much older when I reached the conclusion that every family is its own unique brand of fucked up. Every family has its secrets, trauma, and dysfunction. But it was much easier to hate Aiden for what I thought he had than myself for what I couldn’t fix. I don’t envy him anymore. I pity him, and that feels infinitely worse.
“Kai, I can’t deal with the police right now,” he begs. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll never come here again. Please don’t turn me in.” He’s shaking, worry seeping out of him.
I stare at this man, my best friend. The guy I grew up playing hockey and football with, who knows all my secrets, thatI have probably punched one too many times. The same guy who won “best looking” in high school and could make any girl fall for him. Here he is in my apartment, begging for mercy and pleading for me to understand the situation he’s in. I’ve never seen him like this. Small, panicked, broken.
What the fuck happened to him?
The plan starts taking shape in my brain before it’s even out of my mouth.
“It’s either jail or rehab,” I tell him resolutely.
“No. No no no,” he pleads, hands clasped together. He’s crying now, wiping snot from his nose and tears from his eyes with his arm. “I can’t go to rehab. I can’t. They’ll find me. I owe too much money anyways.” This is my ultimatum and he’s out of time and out of options.
“I’ll pay your debt,” I offer, my voice neutral and controlled. “But only if you agree to get on a plane tomorrow and go directly to a rehab facility.”
He swallows, his Adams’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Kai, I owe 50,000 dollars,” he whispers, his dilated pupils locked on mine. At first, I think he’s joking, that I heard him wrong. But his haunted face tells me all I need to know.
“Jesus Christ, Aiden,” I scrub my hand over my jaw, contemplating the options. Not that there are many. If he goes to jail, he’ll likely end up in the same position: trying to rob someone else, or worse. Rehab is the best place for him.
“I’ll make up something to tell the police. I’ll pay the debt. As soon as they leave, I’m calling your mom to make sure you get on the earliest flight to California tomorrow. And then I’m calling Jenna to make sure she meets you when you land. If this isn’t rock fucking bottom man, I don’t know what is. I’m not gonna bury you or forgive myself if I find you dead in a ditch somewhere. You. Are. Going. To. Rehab. You have to try.”
He wipes his face again, straightens his spine, and nods. It isn’t a lot, a glimpse of the man I once knew. But right now, it’s enough. It has to be.
“Okay. These are bad guys, though, Kai. They have deep ties with the O’Rourke’s. They might come looking for me even if I settle the debt,” he warns, his voice shaky.
“I’ll take care of it, Aiden. Let’s get you cleaned up maybe. When’s the last time you fucking showered?” I ask, crinkling my nose and trying to lighten the absurdity of this conversation with a little humor.
The police leave around 12:00 am. I told them Aiden was supposed to be staying with me for a few days but I forgot because my schedule was so hectic. I also fabricate a story about the mess in the apartment. They don’t seem convinced, but they also didn’t seem particularly inclined to fill out paperwork for me to press charges either. After they leave, Aiden showers, changes into fresh clothes, and falls asleep on my couch open mouthed and snoring.
My first call is to his parents. I relay the situation to his mom and ask her to get here as soon as she can. She is worried, on the verge of sobbing towards the end of the phone call, but promises they’d be here in the morning. Then I get a hold of Jenna. She’s alarmed but not surprised. She clears her schedule for the next two days and reassures me that her and Amir will pick Aiden up from his gate and get him checked in to rehab. I’m relieved knowing Jenna will do whatever it takes to help him, to ensure he walks inside that building come hell or high water. All we can do is get him there, the rest is up to him.
The next couple calls I make are to rehab centers and addiction treatment facilities up and down the west coast. Aiden needs immediate help and some distance from all the bullshit dragging him under in Boston. I’m going to be hard pressed to find a place that’s going to take him on such short notice evenwith the kind of connections I have. On a hope and a prayer, I contact the Betty Ford Center located in Rancho Mirage, California.
They have a spot for him.
***
Threedayslater,I’msitting in a coffee shop with Kendall and giving her all the details about the situation with Aiden. Details that I’ve been too exhausted and distraught to explain over the phone. She sits in a chair across from me, picking at the lip of her iced coffee with lavender manicured nails, a nervous habit.
“So, you found him in your apartment trying to steal from you?” she whispers, leaning further into the table, her arms crossed on top of it.
“Yeah, he was looking for my Stanley Cup jersey to try and pawn it for money.” For thousands of dollars and it probably would have sold for that, never mind that it wouldn’t even have cleared his debt.
“Holy shit, Kai. That’s terrifying,” she comments, scanning my face. “But he’s okay now? He’s in rehab?”
“Yeah, Jenna said he was all checked in to a 90-day in-patient program. So, I think he’s in the best place he can be for now.” At least I want to believe he is.
“Okay but what about the money he owes and the people looking for it?” Right. Kendall isn’t stupid or blind. She’s put enough clues together to understand that whatever Aiden was involved with isn’t good.
“I told him I’d pay it and I did.” What I don’t say is I settled the debt and then some. That I had secured a private carrier to deliver $80,000 in cash to low level workers and enforcers of the nefarious mob. That I hired private security detail to ensure thiscarrier wasn’t harmed. That I had dipped my toes in something I probably shouldn’t have but there’s no going back now. I’ve waded into flames and I'm waiting to see whether I’d burn for it. I know engaging in any sort of illicit activity is grounds for expulsion from the league, reason enough to terminate me, and an easy way to nullify my 2.3 million dollar contract. I know this and I forged ahead anyway. Because I have my own debt to settle, my own sins to atone for.
“Why, though, Kai? You paid for his rehab fees and you’re paying this debt. Why? I mean I know you were close with Aiden but this seems like a lot.”
I sigh because I knew this question was coming and I don’t know how to answer it, not completely.
