Page 33 of Unholy Confessions
The worst part is that Hayden was right. I am bringing my problems to the group. I am miserable. And somewhere deep down, in a place I don't want to acknowledge, I'm terrified that RJ might be heading down the same dark road my father once owned.
The thought makes me cry harder, until I'm gasping for breath between sobs. Because if that's true, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know if I'm strong enough to watch someone I love destroy themselves again.
Chapter 17
RJ
I haven't talked to Montgomery since our argument yesterday, but I know I have to make an appearance at her parents' cookout today. It'll be weird if I don't, then I'll have to answer questions I'm not prepared to.
You're not taking an extra pill today. I tell myself. You're going to make it through the day without help. No matter how hard it is, I'm gonna do it. My hands are already shaking. How have I become this reliant in such a short amount of time? But I guess this is what happens to everyone who experiments to begin with. They don't think they'll be doing what I'm doing right now.
Glancing down at the counter, I'm counting out the amount of pills I have until my next refill. I'm going to miss it by two weeks, and I'm unsure how I can get an earlier refill. I don't want to go downtown and buy them off the street, or ask someone where I can make a buy. And that makes me feel even worse than I did when I woke up this morning.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I thumb through my contacts, until I get to my doctor. Because of our crazy touring schedule, I have a personal number to his main nurse. My heart is fluttering in my chest as I wait for the line to pick up.
"Nashville Behavioral Health, this is Abby. Can I help you?"
"Hey Abby, this is Rhett James Thompson."
"Oh hey, RJ. How are you doing?"
Here goes nothing. "Okay, but I have a bit of a problem. I left my Adderall at the last hotel of the tour, and when I called to ask if they'd found it, the pill bottle was empty. Which means I'm a few weeks before my next refill. Is there anyway that Dr. Phillips could help me out? I know it's bad to quit cold turkey. I had one in my daily pill bottle, but come tomorrow I won't have anything." The lie tastes awful in my mouth.
"Yeah, that's not great," she mumbles, typing in the background. "I'm sending a message to Dr. Phillips, this shouldn't be an issue. You just might not be able to go to your regular pharmacy. We'll fill it in house at our pharmacy. Is that a problem for you?"
"Not at all."
"Great, if you can come in within the next hour, we'll have it for you."
That was almost too easy, and I should be halfway ashamed, but I'm not. I'm already heading to my truck to swing by before I head over to Jared and Shell's.
An hour later, I'm pulling into the familiar driveway of Montgomery's childhood home, the small orange pill bottle burning a hole in my pocket. The sound of laughter and the smell of barbecue drift through the air, and I can see everyone gathered in the backyard through the side gate.
I take a deep breath and force myself to walk around back, plastering on what I hope passes for a normal smile.
"RJ!" Shell calls out, rushing over with open arms. "I'm so glad you could make it, honey."
"Wouldn't miss it," I manage, accepting her hug and trying to ignore how my hands are still trembling slightly.
Montgomery looks up from where she's sitting at the picnic table with EJ, and our eyes meet for the first time since yesterday. There's something tentative in her expression, like she's not sure what to expect from me.
"Hey," she says softly as I approach.
"Hey yourself." I slide onto the bench across from her, hyperaware of my family watching us. "Look, about yesterday?—"
"I'm sorry," she interrupts.
I hate how she keeps apologizing because she's done nothing wrong. It doesn't stop relief from flooding through me. "No, I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete ass.."
She reaches across the table and takes my hand, and I have to concentrate on not letting her feel how badly it's shaking. "We're good?"
"We're good," I confirm, squeezing her fingers.
"Well, thank God," EJ mutters from beside her. "The tension was killing me," he jokes.
Dad claps me on the shoulder as he walks by. "Good to see you. Jared's got the grill going if you want to grab a beer and catch up."
I nod and stand, but as I do, the pill bottle in my pocket seems to grow heavier. Just one, I think. Just to get through today without anyone noticing how messed up I am.
