Page 73 of Desperate Haste

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell back as frustration and anger sink in.

“Me? What’s wrong with me?” His head whips around and for the first time, I’m afraid of the version of him that stands in front of me. His eyes are wild and bulging out of their sockets and his cheeks are bright red with anger. I try to hold my ground but I feel myself cower when he takes a step closer to me with fists clenched.

“Look at yourself. You’re acting crazy! You’re acting like you’re high or something!” I scream into his face, no longer holding back. When his face falls and he side-steps me, heading for the living room once more, everything clicks and I feel my heart nearly fall out of my chest.

“Wait.” I try to steady my breathing but I feel it starting to become panicked. The sudden change in attitude. The hyperfixation. The sudden angry outbursts. How he couldn’t sleep at night when it was clear that he could fall over at any moment. It all makes sense now. I turn and follow him into the other room. “Are you using again?”

He doesn’t look in my direction while he paces around the coffee table, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. He looks frustrated and deranged, but also broken. I take another step closer to him and dig my nails into the palm of my hand. Blowing out a hard breath, I ask him again.

“Malcolm, look at me.” He does and the emptiness that now fills his eyes nearly breaks me.

“Are you using again?” My voice cracks when I ask.

He stares at me blankly while I wait for an answer.

“I’m fucking out of here,” he scowls, pushing passed me where I’m blocking his way to the door. I try to grab his arm to hold him back but he yanks it away from me.

“Malcolm, please stay. Let’s just talk about this. I want to help you,please.” I’m begging him through watery eyes but he doesn’t seem to be listening. His shoes are on and he’s snatching the keys to his truck from the bowl I keep by the front door before I can do anything to stop him.

“Malcolm!”

The door slams behind him as he leaves and the force of it vibrates the floor beneath me. My shoulders shake as more sobs escape me as I wonder how I could have missed it. His addiction. His using. All the signs I could now see as I thought about the last few months and how he seemed to unravel right in front of me.

In front of all of us.

My fingers shake as I dial a number I know by heart.

He may have done a good job of hiding it from us before, but now that I’ve figured it out, I’m not going to let him sit in his darkness alone anymore. Now that I know how much he’s hurting, I’ll do anything I can to pull him out and help him see the light once more.

37

OPHELIA

“Okay, tell me one more time what happened.”

I sigh heavily and Bailey squeezes my hand harder in hers. I look at her, then around at everyone who’s now standing in my living room. After Malcolm stormed off, I wasn’t sure who to call but I figured if anyone would know where he was going it would be his friends. So I called Bailey, who told Hank who then rallied the troops. Now his three best friends, Bailey, and Magnolia are all waiting for me to tell them the story again. I focus my eyes on Kolbi and instantly feel steadied by his gaze. He has this calming energy about him no matter where he is or what’s going on around him and right now, I’m grateful for it.

“He came over and I asked him about the fight you all had on Wednesday. He told me it was nothing and just wanted to…hang out.” I lick my lips and skip the part about what hereallywanted. “It was crazy, he kept becoming this new person. His attitude would change at the flip of a switch and he was sweating and breathing heavily.”

The three of them share an uneasy glance.

“I think he’s using again,” I confess, looking down at my hands, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. The guys all look at me, dumbfounded. “Yeah, I know about that. He told me when we first got together.”

Hank laces his hands together and sets them on top of his head, pacing around the living room in small circles. Kolbi blows out a heavy breath, and Bailey and Magnolia cast a side glance to one another that drips with worry.

“Well, it makes sense if that’s what it is,” Conrad states matter of factly.

Kolbi squints at him. “What do you mean ‘it makes sense?’”

“Think about it. Marshall died at the end of January and then Malcolm became the owner of Butcher and Block. Two major life changes back to back. That amount of stress can be really triggering for an addict and cause them to relapse—to go back to a place of comfort they know, even if it’s destructive.” We all stare at him with slack jaws. “Look, I know you all think I’m insensitive and heartless but Malcolm is one of my best friends. I did a lot of research on addiction when he came home from rehab the first time.”

“I love him, too, brother,” Kolbi affirms, dropping a hand on Conrad’s shoulder and giving him a shake. Conrad’s lips pull back into a tight line and I feel my heart warm at seeing how much he cares.

“Do you have any idea where he went?” Bailey asks me, shifting her weight so she’s facing me on the couch.

“No, I have no idea. But I’m worried. The way he was acting was really scary. I’m worried he’s going to go do something stupid. I shouldn’t have upset him so much.” I feel more tears threaten to fall down my cheeks and bring my palms to cover them. Bailey wraps her arms around me and gives me a squeeze.

“Track him.” The idea comes from Hank and when I look at him, his eyes are set on Kolbi. They exchange a silent conversation while the rest of us wait to be filled in.

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