Page 58 of Ice
“He used?”
I nodded, feeling like the biggest failure in the history of rehab counsellors.
“He was found unconscious and bleeding heavily from his nose.”
“Coke?”
I nodded again, but stayed silent.
“Babe… you can’t blame yourself for that. He’s addicted. We know how often they slip up and use again. It’s not your fault. Remember that these people are always just one bad decision away from falling back into the hold of their addiction.”
I sighed, taking a moment to drink some of my coffee, relishing the taste that I’d miss when I couldn’t afford it anymore.
“I feel like I could have stopped him. If I could have just talked to him, but he was… anyway, it… he’s better off without me. Another therapist can do a better job, especially without there being feelings getting in the way.” Unless he was just the kind of guy that women fell for. Was that why I started falling so fast?
“Lissa?”
“Yeah?”
“I asked what you’re going to do next. I think you’re right that coming back isn’t going to work, even if the bitchqueen revokes her decision. She’d never leave you alone. She’d be micro-managing you to death.”
Unfortunately she was right, and that only left one decision for me for now, and it was going to hurt.
“I’ll have to go home. To my parents. To my old life. I’ll have to start again from scratch. Maybe if I’m really lucky, this cockup won’t follow me there.”
“You’re going back to London?”
She looked gutted, and I felt that intensely too. If I left, I’d never see Ice again. London might only be about fifty miles away, but it felt like another world. Another country. Fifty miles felt like the other end of the world, because I knew it’d be the end of us. Not that there even was an ‘us’ to worry about. He’d made that clear, hadn’t he?
Twenty-Seven
I’dbeenworkingonlooking into this Salvatore Rizzo guy all day, and what I found was unnerving, but not what Reacher had been expecting. It was going to be an issue though. I gathered up my shit and headed back to his office, to look for him.
He was just on the phone, so he waved me in to sit down, while I listened to his side of the conversation.
“Don’t worry about it, brother. You look after you right now. We’re all fine here.”
I frowned, but stayed quiet as he listened to whoever it was. It was clearly a member of the club, and my mind raced as I tried to figure out who it was.
“No, don’t you dare. Recovery means fucking recovery. Let her look after you, and don’t you dare get on your fucking bike until they say you can. I mean it, brother.”
He cursed quietly. “Results first, man, then we’ll talk. Don’t make any rash decisions, please.”
He ended the call, and ran his hands over his face.
“Jesus. Just give me a minute, Ice.”
He left the room, and I listened as I heard him cursing outside the door. It was quiet for a while, and then he returned, taking his seat again. He looked upset. While he’d been out there, I’d reached over and grabbed his phone, checking the call log, before the screen locked. He’d been talking toStitch.
“Pres?”
He nodded. “Go on, what have you got?” Fine. I’d play his game for now.
I filled him in on what I’d found out about good old Salvatore. He could decide whether or not to report his embezzling skills to his boss. He cursed a bit, but set it aside.
“At least he’s not looking like the leak. Still means we have one somewhere though. Thanks, brother. I appreciate this.”
I nodded. “Anything else for me? Must be busy with Stitch away, yeah?” Reacher’s face fell again.
