Page 69 of Dark Notes

“Now, sit on the bed so I can get your shoes and shirt off.”

After helping him get undressed, I lay him down, and ask Jett, “When will the doctor be here?”

“Soon,” he says, “I’m staying until I can talk to the doctor.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

JAGGER

Everybody knows getting hit with a bat hurts. I never imagined it would fucking hurt like this, though. Erik’s didn’t have barbed wire on it, so it must have been worse for him, but then again, that fucker deserved it after what he did to McKinley.

Jett sits on a chair in our bedroom with his face in his hands. I know, after how much time has passed, he isn’t feeling well. He’s in a constant cycle of pain. He shoots himself up with heroin and feels okay for a few hours. Then if he doesn’t use, he gets sick as shit. They call it dope sick. It’s essentially withdrawal. Normally, he would have already got high again, and I know he’s putting himself through this for me. He knows I’ll tell him to leave if he does that shit in front of her.

“Jett, if you need to go, I’ll be fine.”

He hangs his head down in misery. “Maybe I’ll go to the car for a minute.”

“Just leave. You know I’m not going to allow you to come back in here fucked up on drugs.”

Popping his head up, he glares at me. “Yeah, I know. Not with her here.”

I appreciate what he did for me, but I’m not exposing her to that shit.

He’s unpredictable when he’s high. You can’t really trust he’ll follow whatever boundaries anyone has. His violence tends to get amped up, and right now I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be ableto protect McKinley, so it’s not a risk I’ll take. She’s been through enough.

“Look, man, call me and tell me what Walton says. I gotta go. I can’t do this.”

It makes my chest literally fucking hurt, without being hit with a baseball bat, to see him like this. I hate what he does to himself. He is going to die. We’ve discussed it. It’s a fact we both know to be true. I’m not a goddamn choir boy. I’ve tried various drugs, but never heroin, because everybody knows that’s a ‘one shot and you’re addicted’ drug. I don’t fuck with that shit. It’s a common drug in the music industry, and I’ve seen too many people get destroyed by that shit. There’s a drummer in another popular band that used it for years, and Jesus, he’s off it now and his brain is still gone. Too much fucking damage was done. Jett isn’t that far yet, but eventually he will be, if he lives that long.

“Alright, thanks for your help today. Chances are, we’d both be dead if it weren’t for you.”

McKinley echoes my sentiment. “Thank you, Jett. I know you did it for Jagger, but thank you.”

He nods at her, “Anytime,” and turns and leaves.

She sits up on the bed beside me. “Is he going to be okay?”

“No. Probably not, but there’s nothing we can do about it. We have been trying to get him clean for years. Nobody can make him do it. He has to want it for himself, and he doesn’t.”

“He was really worried about you. I can’t believe he didn’t stay.”

I take her hand in mine and try my best to explain it.

“Jett doesn’t control the drugs, baby. They control him.”

“Maybe we can find him a rehab,” she says so sweetly.

I chuckle and then wince from the pain. “It’s exactly what he needs, but we have found plenty of rehabs for him through the years. He won’t go. And even if he was court mandated, it wouldn’t hold. An addict has to want to not use. Until thathappens, they generally simply relapse once they get out. And unfortunately for him, money isn’t an issue, so he has no reason to quit.”

I love that she is concerned for my best friend, but the truth is, we’ve been through it so many times that we don’t address it much anymore. It’s not that we don’t care because we do, but hounding him changes nothing. In fact, it tends to make him use more, out of rebellion.

McKinley shows me my phone when it buzzes at the front door, showing Dr. Walton’s face, and I buzz him in.

He knocks lightly on the door frame and enters, since the door is open.

“Jagger. Rough day?”

“You could say that.”

---