Fucking Shannon. I’m fucking beyond furious. How dare she throw away my beer? It’s the only thing getting me through every damn day, what does she expect me to do now?

As though my thoughts have magically conjured her up, the back door of the bar opens and she steps out, squinting at the sudden brightness of the sun as it hits her in the eye. Raising a hand across her eyes to block it out, she spots me sitting against the wall and regards me with a thin purse of her lips.

I grimace as Keets appears over her shoulder; no second guesses are necessary to know who sold me out.

“Thanks a lot, man,” I slur, nodding at Keets as I raise a glass toward them. “Nice to know you’ve got my back.”

“I do have your back,” Keets protests, starting to step forward, but Shannon’s small hand on his chest stops him mid-stride. I growl under my breath when she doesn’t immediately move her hand, a keen jealousy building in me, making my chest heavy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Shannon snaps, glaring at me as I blink in surprise. Why the hell is she angry at me? She’s the one who threw out the beer and reduced me to this.

“I’m waiting to die,” I answer, a little disturbed at how easily the statement slips off my tongue.

“It can’t be that bad,” Keets says with a small laugh. I shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. Now’s not the time for his fucking jokes.

“Stone, I think you need to go home,” Shannon says gently, her earlier anger seems to have dissipated as she moves to kneel beside me in the gutter. Shame washes over me as I realize the gravity of the situation. I’m lying in the fucking gutter, drinking the last dregs of alcohol from someone else’s glass. When did I become so dependent on booze that I would stoop to this level? An unsettling feeling grows in the pit of my stomach, and before I can stop myself I’m leaning forward, losing the contents of my guts onto the cement. As I’m heaving, I feel her gentle hand on my back and I’m instantly embarrassed. She’s not to blame for my problems . . . I am.

I need help, how the fuck do I get over an addiction that’s completely consumed me? Am I even worth saving? I’ve done some pretty shitty things in my life, but is it possible that Shannon sees past my imperfections? My whole body is shaking beneath her touch. I’m so vulnerable, so weak . . . so human. Tears burn behind my eyes, nothing will hold them back now. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as the first tear caresses my cheek, and soon my body is wracked with deep, shuddering sobs. I hate that I’m helpless. I’m the strong soldier, yet here I am crying like a bitch.

Shannon’s arms wrap around my neck and I cling to her like a buoy in the ocean. She can save me . . . she has to. “Save me,” I whisper brokenly against her soft hair. The tears begin to ebb and fade as she pushes back gently to look at my face. She cups it with a small smile, “of course,” she whispers, stroking my cheek with her thumb. “We’ll help you.”

We . . . I’d almost forgotten about Keets. I glance up at him, embarrassed, as I wipe away the last of my tears.

“It’s okay,” he says gruffly as he crouches down beside us and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get you through this.”

I have no idea how they think they’re going to get me through this. I’ve reached rock bottom, how can I begin to climb back up and out of this hole I dug? I want to tell her to leave while she can, I’m so close to telling her all about the young girl that haunts my nightmares. But I don’t. I can’t.

“He can’t stay here,” Keets murmurs to Shannon, who nods her head quietly.

“I know,” she whispers. “You need to help me get him home.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks, indicating with his head toward me. “Addiction is a horrible thing to overcome, he’s going to be an asshole for a while.”

“Is that really any different than usual?” she grins.

“Hey,” I interject. “I’m still fucking here!”

“Oh come on,” Keets says with a laugh. “You know I’m just kidding.”  He turns back to Shannon and wraps his arms around her as she sits in the wheelchair, kissing the top of her head. Jealously floods through me and I growl as I narrow my eyes at them both. She’s fucking mine! My mind screams, and I clench my hands into fists as I force myself to calm down. She’s not yours, I remind myself sternly. I’m too fucked up to get involved with any woman . . . no matter how much I want to.

Shannon has proven to me today that I can trust her, it would be unfair of me to bring her down with my history. And Keets . . . the man is my Army brother. I trust no man more than him. If anyone can help me conquer my inner demons, it’s these two people beside me.

For the first time in years, I feel a glimmer of hope that things will be okay.

 

It’s been a week since Stone has had a beer, and I honestly don’t know how he’s coping.

He’s been so quiet, often hiding out in his bedroom while I’ve slept in the spare room. I hear him crying at night and it breaks my heart, but I know he just needs time. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s been through, but I know it’s going to be a long time before he feels truly okay.

“Hey, Shan,” Ruth says, walking up to me at the bar with a tray of dirty glasses. “How’s Stone?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, taking the tray and unloading the glasses. “He’s barely said a word to me all week.”

“Just give it some time,” she offers, smiling at a young couple as they take a seat at the bar. “I’m sure he’s got a lot of crap to work through.”

I push my wheelchair across to the couple and quickly serve them their drinks.

“How’s Zeke?” I ask when we get another spare minute.

Ruth sighs. “He’s still not talking,” she says.

“Thank you for looking after him.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she starts, laying a hand lightly on my shoulder. “It’s my pleasure. He’s a good kid, but he’s been through so much with his mom . . .”

“And now his dad,” I finish the sentence for her.

Ruth smiles, but it seems a little forced. “It’ll be okay,” she tells me, glancing up as the door of the bar opens. “Great,” she mutters, quickly moving away. “I’ll leave this one to you.”

“What?” I ask, watching as she darts away.

I sigh in frustration and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, wishing for the hundredth time tonight that I’d worn it up. It’s Saturday night, and the band is just setting up as the regulars trickle in. Unfortunately for me, some of those regulars aren’t all that friendly.

“Effie,” I say emotionlessly, nodding a greeting to Kensington as they take a seat at the bar.

“Shannon,” Effie purrs, looking at my wheelchair. “I heard about your leg. That’s just terrible. I do hope it’s nothing serious.”

I raise my eyebrows disbelievingly. “No, Effie, my injured leg is nothing serious.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it,” she says, completely missing my sarcasm. “You remember Mr. Kensington?”

“Of course,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“Miss Harper,” he says with a fake smile. “I hope you’ve considered my offer?”

“Uh, I’m still thinking about it,” I tell him, desperately looking around for Ruth. “Will you excuse me?” I don’t wait for an answer as I wheel my chair over to where Ruth appears to be flirting with a young guy. I’m a little surprised; I thought for sure things were working out with Keets.

“Ruth?” I say, calling her attention to me. “I have to get out of here.”

She nods understandingly. “Okay. Go into the office and wait. I’ll call Keets to pick you up and take you back to Stone’s.”

“Thanks.” I smile gratefully as I turn the wheelchair around and head for the office, pointedly ignoring Effie and Kensington.