Page 33 of Addicted to You
“The boys will understand,” Melissa stated.
“It’s not just them either, Mrs. Hale. We have a manager, our label, and all the crew involved with the tour. It’s a lot of people. And that’s only if he agrees to go. He doesn’t think he has a problem.”
“I can try to encourage him to go to rehab,” I suggested. “But, yeah, it’s on him. He has to make the decision.”
Elliott sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Last night was enough to scare me, and it had to scare him as well. I know we’ve all been turning a blind eye, but if he keeps going like this …”
Britt crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “How long have you known?”
“A while,” he admitted.
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. You’ve been watching him fall apart and you justletit happen?”
“I didn’tletanything happen,” Elliott argued. “I tried to keep an eye on him, but?—”
“That’s not enough!” she snapped. “You should’ve done something! You should’ve told us!”
“Elliott,” Melissa said quietly, and he flinched at the disappointment in her tone.
“I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I know I screwed up. I thought I could manage it. I thought—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I thought.”
Britt crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You thought wrong.”
“We can be angry later,” Kevin stated. “Right now, we need to focus on Silas.”
Britt didn’t look at Elliott as she nodded. “Fine.”
I swallowed. “When he wakes up, he needs to know no one is ignoring this anymore.”
Elliott nodded. “I’ll back you up. I just hope he’ll listen.”
The door to Silas’s room creaked open, and I turned to see him standing there, bleary-eyed but awake. He looked lost, like he wasn’t sure where he was or how he’d gotten there.
Britt rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. “How do you feel?”
He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he muttered. “What are you all doing here?”
His parents engulfed him in their arms and then his mom said, “You overdosed. Of course, we came as soon as we could.”
“How long have you been using?” his father asked him.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “It’s been a while and mainly when I’m partying, but it’s never been a problem before. I only OD’d because the coke was laced?—”
I stepped forward, cutting him off. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. Especially given I could have done something back in January. “You’re lucky you’re still here,” I clipped. “This is serious, and you need help. I’m not talking about just sleeping it off. You need to go to rehab.”
“I don’t need rehab,” he mumbled and rolled his eyes.
“Yes, you do,” I said firmly. “You need to get sober for your family, for your bandmates, for everyone who loves you. But most importantly, for yourself, and you need to do it now before it’s too late.”
He took a shaky breath, his eyes darting between me and Britt. His shoulders sagged, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.
“You can.” I stepped closer. “You don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, but you need to make the choice. You have to want it.”
“I’ll talk to the guys and Rina. See if we can postpone the tour or something,” Elliott chimed in.
“We can get you in a place in Malibu,” I suggested. “They have a thirty-day program.”
“You can do thirty days, Son,” Kevin said.
