“What if I hate it?”
“Then you can leave. But Bodhi, if you leave, I will cut you off and you will no longer be welcome in my home.”
His words stab me in the heart and rip my guts out. I know he means every single one of them too.
Chapter 2
Bodhi
“Where are we?”
The last thing I remember is rummaging through my dresser looking for cocaine while my dad dealt with an out-of-control Aspen. He was kicking her out of my apartment, and she was fighting him every step of the way. I don’t blame her, or him, really; all I wanted was for the noise to fucking stop. I searched my drawers, frantically looking for a fix, and that’s when it truly hit me—I was an addict, and either I was going to get high to cope with Aspen’s screaming or I was going to get help.
It was my dad yelling at me that caught my attention, but it was the look in Aspen’s eyes—the one that was encouraging me to get high—that snapped me out of my trance. I closed the dresser drawer and told Aspen to get her shit out of my apartment. More screaming ensued, but we left her there to deal with my father’s security team.
When we pulled into my parents’ driveway I hesitated. The last person I wanted to see was my mother. She’d never understand.
“She’s out of town” was all Dad said.
I tried to sleep in the bed that he shares with my mother, but sleep evaded me. He sat there and watched me detox, holding the puke bucket for me and helping me change my soiled clothes. All things a father should never have to do for his adult son.
“Almost there,” my dad tells me now as I work the kink out of my neck. I must’ve fallen asleep against the window. This is the longest I’ve slept in a month, and coming down from my high is really starting to affect me. There’s an ache inside me that I can’t explain. It itches. I can’t reach the itch through my skin, even though I’m trying. My nails dig into my flesh, drawing blood. The pain is a relief and takes my attention away from whatever is growing inside me. It gets my mind off the drugs my body is craving, but only temporarily.
“Stop that.” My dad slaps my hand away, but I go back to picking my at skin, unable to stop. He doesn’t get it. If I don’t get something into my system, I’m going to start freaking out.
“We’re pulling into the ranch now,” he says as my legs start to bounce up and down. The shakes are back. I thought I had kicked those last night; apparently my body is a liar and wants me to go through that again.
“Dad, I don’t know if I can do this,” I grit out, bent over at the waist as I try not to hurl all over the floorboard of his Benz.
The car comes to a halt and his hand rests reassuringly on my leg, stilling it for the time being. “That’s the drugs talking. It’s going to take you some time to get over the urges, but that’s what Bruce is here for. He’ll help.”
I’m beyond help. Thirty days isn’t going to be enough, but that’s the maximum time I have before the media starts asking questions. Brayden and Carson will be seen out in public, and we’re rarely apart. It’s part of the deal with Rebel: always be seen together. For a month they’re going to have to figure shit out without me and keep my name clean and out of the press.
My car door opens and hands are there to help me out. I’m an able-bodied man, but my ass is set down in a wheelchair because my body is withering from the pain. I couldn’t walk right now, even if I tried.
“Roger, sorry we meet again under these circumstances.” The voice is that of Dr. Gordon. My eyes are closed, my teeth are biting into my lips, and my stomach is rolling, but I’d know that voice anywhere. Even after one meeting, it’s burned into my subconscious.
“I appreciate your help yesterday and for taking Bodhi on such short notice.”
“It’s why we’re here. Let me tell you a bit about Serenity Springs, Bodhi. Here at the ranch we try to make everyone feel like they’re at home, all while providing supervision. The grounds are well over seven hundred acres, featuring pristine valleys, natural ponds, wildlife, and hiking trails that we use for therapeutic purposes. Most of the staff live here to make sure the patients are well taken care of if a need arises.”
Dr. Gordon continues speaking, but my eyes are focused on the woman walking toward us. Fuck my life for being off my game and unable to make eye contact with her.
“Let me introduce you to my daughter, Kimberly. Kim works one-on-one with patients. She makes sure they eat, shower, get to therapy, and have someone to talk to. Kimberly is going to be with you, Bodhi, for the duration of your stay. She’s going to be your friend, someone you can trust. We found that patients who are here for only thirty days do better when they have someone to talk to who isn’t necessarily a clinician.”
I try to look up, but my neck hurts too badly to move. I can’t even imagine what she’s thinking right now. Probably Look at Bodhi McKnight—he’s a fucking loser. I wave, but that’s all I can muster. If I were high, things would be different. I’d cock my head, look her up and down, and tell her with my eyes exactly what I want from her. But I’m not high. I’m fucking dying from the pain, everything hurts, and I’m as useless as newborn. In my book, I’m fucking pathetic. And I did this to myself.
“Kimberly, why don’t you take Bodhi inside and get him settled. Roger and I are going to chat a bit about his care.”
“Sure thing, Daddy.”
Daddy? She calls him Daddy? This time I fight the pain and look at the woman coming toward me. My tongue swells as the prettiest woman I have ever laid my baby blues on saunters toward me wearing a pair of those stupid Daisy Duke shorts and Chuck Taylor sneakers. I look down at my ratty Chucks and wish I was wearing something else.
“I’m Kim,” she says in a voice that makes my insides twist even more than they already are. She doesn’t offer to shake my hand, or let me kiss the back of hers. Instead she tosses my bag into my lap and pushes my old-man wheelchair toward the brick building. The closer the door looms, the more I fear what is on the other side of it.
“Stop,” I say, trying to get my feet to the ground to halt the momentum of the wheelchair.
“What’s the problem?”