Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Worry started to curl its way through my chest.
Liam used to turn off his phone, long ago in LA, when he was doing something he wasn’t proud of. Usually that meant he was doing drugs that I wouldn’t have supported, or going on some drinking bender with a friend.
I had no reason to believe Liam was anything but sober right now, but as I went back into the bar and helped clean up as the party began winding down, I couldn’t stop worrying about him.
It was the same kind of worry that always used to plague me. The worry that had built up so much anxiety and tension in me that it made me cut him out of my life. Once, this type of worry had led me to find him in the hospital, for God’s sake.
I hated it. Because it meant that I couldn’t trust what Liam was doing.
After a couple hours, the bar closed, and we all finished up our closing duties.
“You want to play a few rounds of pinball to cool off?” Mitch asked. His boyfriend Evan was still sitting at the bar, where he’d been most of the night. Mitch and Evan had been best friends for life, but recently they had fallen in love. It was beautiful to see their relationship blossom, and how much they were always there to support one another.
Right now, more than ever, I found myself wishing I had what Mitch and Evan had. Someone by my side, no matter what.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I said. “I think I need to go check on a friend.”
“Everything all right, Red?” Evan asked.
“I’m really not sure yet,” I said. “Is it... strange to worry that a sober person might be relapsing, even if you have no real reason to believe it?”
“How long has this person been sober?” Evan asked.
“Maybe two months, at this point. He’s been doing well.”
“And you’re worried about him?”
“Something in his voice sounded off, earlier today. I can’t explain it.”
“Red, I’ve found over the years that your intuition is never wrong,” Evan said. “You’ve helped me through the worst shit. If your intuition is telling you to worry, maybe it couldn’t hurt to check up on him.”
“Is this… the porn star?” Mitch said, dropping his voice to a whisper.
“It’s him, yes,” I said. “You don’t have to whisper. You’re a sweetheart, Mitch.”
“Got it,” he said, nodding.
“I’m going to head to his place. You think you and Sam can close up just fine?”
Mitch gave me a quick salute. “Go get your man. Or, your friend, I guess.”
I had to laugh at that. Hell, a month or two ago, I probably wouldn’t have even called Liam a friend at all.
Before I left, I grabbed a to-go cup full of the strawberry virgin cocktail Liam had loved so much and packed up one of Perry’s new chocolate cake slices in a container. I hopped in my truck and headed over to Liam’s house, my heart rate going up a little as I pulled into his driveway.
I cut the engine, hesitating for a moment before getting out. I wasn’t used to this. I kept to myself most of the time, and I respected other people’s privacy, too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone over to someone’s house unannounced.
I grabbed the drink and the slice of cake and got out. I saw that there was a bright light coming from the side of his house by the garden. I rounded the corner and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him.
Liam was lying on the ground, on his side in the dirt. There was a big plastic jug nearby. He’d clearly been gardening, and had set up a light nearby so that he could see better at night.
Now the light was illuminating him on the ground, covered in dirt.
In the matter of a split second, I remembered every time that I’d come home and found him lying on the ground passed out in the same way, with a bottle nearby. Adrenaline shot through my veins.
I was too late.
“Liam,” I said, my body tensing up as I crossed over toward him.
But as I approached, he turned over, glancing up at me with wide eyes.
“Red?”
“Oh my God, you’re okay,” I said, crouching down next to him. He turned over, sitting up straight and giving me a confused look.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What are you doing lying in the dirt?”
He reached over to one of the nearby rosebushes and pointed out a tiny water drip tube. “I’m installing the drip system. It’s the best way to water these things. Kind of hard to see when it’s the middle of the night, though.”
“You looked like you were passed out,” I said, running a hand through my hair.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said, realization spreading over his face. “You thought…”