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‘You think that’s what I’m doing?’
Gregg shrugs. ‘A little. Not saying I blame you, but you’re letting what happened get to you. Hear me out before you do that eye roll thing of yours. You don’t wallow. Never have. You wouldn’t be an international fucking superstar if you did. You get knocked back, pick yourself up and plough on regardless. Always have. Face it like you would any other knock you’ve had. Fight it. You’re letting it win and it’s killing me.’
Tate slowly looks across at his friend and frowns at the devastation on his face. Gregg didn’t do serious. Through the months of slow recovery, Gregg kept every situation light-hearted. It was Gregg’s positivity that helped drag him out of his depression. ‘Gregg, I don’t want—’
‘I’m not blaming you for how I feel so don’t even go there. It just gets to me when you’re letting that dick destroy your life.’
‘What do you suggest?’ Gregg doesn’t reply so Tate looks up and frowns at him. ‘What’s that look for?’
‘Who was it?’
‘What?’
‘I said it gets to me when you let that dick destroy your life. You didn’t correct me. What you should have said is ‘Who are you talking about, Gregg?’ but you didn’t. So, who pushed you too far?’
Fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. ‘I’ve told you I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘And I’ve told you that you will. Who pushed you?’
Tate starts the engine, but Gregg leans over and pulls the key out. ‘No. You’re not running from this.’
‘Fuck you.’ Not the best response but it’s all he’s got. Needing to get away from the look Gregg is throwing at him, he climbs out of the truck and slams the door. He kicks at a rock that’s looking at him the wrong way, sending it flying over the edge of the track and down the side of the valley.
Gregg isn’t going to let this go now. He’s well and truly screwed himself. He’s too tired to keep things straight in his head. Tate squeezes his eyes shut and she’s there again. Staring accusingly back as him. Blaming him for her death. He beats his fist against his forehead hoping to force the images from his head.
Gravel crunches behind him as Gregg walks over.
‘Why do I get the feeling you were imagining my head in place of that rock you just sent over the edge?’ He looks down as Gregg crouches in front of him and places another rock near his boot. He can’t help but laugh when he sees a smiley face drawn on it in marker. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it was an impressive kick. Let’s see how far you can get this one.’
He sends rock Gregg number two a good few feet further than its predecessor.
‘Not bad. Now that you’ve kicked the shit out of me, fancy talking?’
Tate sits on the bench overlooking the lake trying to get his story straight in his head as Gregg sits down beside him. ‘I got a letter when I was home at Christmas.’
‘Love or not so much?’
‘Not so much. It was about my childhood. You know before I was put in foster care. I don’t remember anything before then. Well, I didn’t until that fucking letter arrived. But all these memories came back over the next few days. I think I was hit as a child. A lot. I couldn’t sleep because the nightmares kept coming. I got stuck in them. It was like the memories were on fucking replay. I was reliving everything that happened.’
He looks down at the lake and shrugs. ‘Then another letter came. And another. Each one hinted at more shit that went on. My biological dad sounds like a prize asshole. Anyway, I tried so many different things to distract myself, but nothing worked. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I just wanted to... forget everything for a while.’
‘And that’s where Eddie comes in.’
He nods. ‘This is going to sound unbelievably stupid, but I don’t think it even registered with me that I was taking heroin. And I didn’t get the first letter then go straight to that. Nothing else I tried had worked. Fuck, some of the stuff Eddie gave me made the dreams worse. When the letters kept coming I... I guess I didn’t care what he was giving me. Once I tried it though I couldn’t stop. Probably didn’t help that there was a near constant supply.
Gregg snorts loudly. ‘Yeah, I’ll bet. Eddie’s good like that. All part of his excellent customer service.’
‘Yeah. I don’t know what I did while I was using. It’s a blur of...’ He looks down at the gravel between his boots. ‘Well, stuff I’d like to forget.’
‘Like that woman I saw you with. She seemed overly friendly.’
Tate grimaces and nods at the ground.
‘Forgive my bluntness but you did get checked... you know... down there?’
Tate frowns at him then catches on. ‘Oh Jesus, Gregg. Yes.’
‘What? It was a perfectly reasonable question.’
