29. Cole

Chapter 29

Cole

C olchester Ski Resort was dull in the late autumn.

There wasn't enough snow to keep my skis in check, the lobby was empty, and the bar was a drag. But it was quiet and remote, ideally the last place someone would come looking for me, so it was enough to keep me glued down.

I slung back the last of my glass of top-shelf cognac before passing it across the bar. Gray would be here soon, and if I had any chance of hiding it from him, I needed to finish it now.

Up in my room I scrubbed the shit out of my teeth, brushing every possible surface in my mouth to get the scent off. I dabbed on a lighter cologne, one that wouldn't necessarily point a big fucking red arrow at myself that said "I've been drinking," and splashed a bit of water on my face. I didn't have the energy to hide the bags under my eyes today, didn't care to shave. But I did what I could.

A knock sounded on my door. Let the show begin.

"Hey, Gray," I said, taking a deep breath to signal that I knew that running from my problems was absurd and pointless. I didn't want him to think I wasn't self-aware. I could play this the way I needed—I'm stressed, overworked, and overwhelmed. I needed time alone.

To drink.

God, I hated myself.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" he pressed, pushing the door open before I had the chance to even let him in. I hadn't considered anger from him. "You've got everyone worried sick and you're out here at a ski resort that barely has any snow? Do you think this is funny?"

"Obviously, I don't think it's funny, Grayson," I hissed, closing the door behind him. He stepped across the room, a subtle sniff as he passed by. "I'm stressed to high-hell and need some time alone to think. To breathe. Especially after what happened at the launch."

"Is that all?" he asked, one eyebrow raising as he turned to me. His mop of black hair was unkempt, pressed down on one side like he'd been sleeping. "You think I don't know you, Cole? You think after everything we've gone through together, all of your highs and lows, that I don't see right through you?"

Well, shit.

The burn returned at the base of my throat. Ever since I'd quelled it after months of sobriety, it seemed to come back with a vengeance. It wanted more. It wanted it often. Every little aggravation made it spike.

"Just say it," Gray said, his voice dropping as he glanced toward the other side of the bed. Fuck, did I remember to clean it up? Yes. I did.

"I'm not drinking," I barked. "In fact, I'm trying not to?—"

"Cole. Please. I really don't want to play the game you made me play nine months ago."

"I'm not drinking," I said again, each word slower and full of bullshit.

"Cole."

"I'm not. I'm, I'm not." Fuck . The words were already failing. I hadn't had that much earlier, had I? A few glasses at most. But I was a goddamn lightweight now, and he was coming closer, the drawer was opening, the empty bottles clanging inside.

"You're not, huh?" Gray said, looking from me to the drawer filled with three glass bottles.

"I'm not," I rasped, but the words broke.

"You are."

I'm not. They're not mine. They were here when I checked in. They belong to a friend. They aren't mine, they aren't, they aren't.

"Cole," Gray sighed, shoving the drawer closed before sinking onto the foot of the bed. "How long?"

"I'm not," I said again, but the words were barely a whisper. You've thrown it all away. Nine months of sobriety, your fancy new chip, all gone for nothing. It burned. "Fuck."

"How long, man?"

I tasted the tear on my lip before I even noticed my eyes were leaking. "Two weeks."

"Why didn't you call?" Gray asked, his brown eyes boring a hole in me that only made me feel smaller. "I would have done whatever I could?—"

"You had Penny that night." I leaned against the door of my too-small room, feeling like a spotlight was being shined directly at me, like I was airing my failures to the world. "Please, don't tell Dana. I'll stop. I did it before, I can do it again. Just don't tell her."

His lips pursed together as his head tilted, a look of stubborn disappointment painting his face. "You have to tell her."

"I will, I promise. I just need to get a handle on myself before I see her. I can't fuck up again with her. I was too rough with her at the launch, too angry, too needy. I don't want to do that to her ever again." Words just kept falling from my mouth, whether they made sense or repeated themselves or not. All I could think about was her, and the look of dismay she'd no doubt give me the moment she knew.

"If you're going to go through this again, you need to be open with the people that care about you," Gray said, a hint of despondency in his voice. "You can't shut everyone out and disappear for six months again. You need all the support you can get."

"I know."

"You've got to do it right this time."

"I know."

"So you have to tell her."

"She'll hate me," I said, my voice cracking.

"She has enough going on right now that I don't think she'll cast you out for it," he scoffed, and as if a fucking dime had dropped, I snapped into action.

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't call you?"

"I haven't been answering, obviously," I hissed. "What's happening?"

"Her kid's in the hospital," he said, his brows knitting together as I pushed myself from the door.

" What ? You didn't think to fucking lead with that?"

As if powered by anger alone, I grabbed my belongings in handfuls, clumsily and shakily shoving them into the duffel bag I'd brought with me. I could feel the sweat building on my back, could feel the worry already enveloping my bones.

I should have answered.

"I didn't realize that was all it would take to get you home," Gray snapped, but before I could turn on him, he was helping me pack.

————

He wouldn't let me drive, probably for the best. A driver would bring my car back home. But that didn't mean I was going to be useless.

I spent the entire drive chugging water to sober myself up, researching the top pediatricians in Colorado.

I would put my issues on the back burner, handle myself later. Right now, I needed to help Drew, and that meant helping Dana, and helping Dana meant keeping this from her so she could focus on her son. I'd tell her eventually but not while this was happening.

Red rocks and ponderosa pines zoomed past the window as Gray drove. I secured Drew a spot in Denver's premier children's hospital along with the best fucking pediatrician I could find. I just needed to secure transportation, and that should be easy seeing as I had the main contact for Life Light services.

————

There was no happy reunion.

Instead, I sat in the waiting room beside Dana in the dull and lifeless pediatric ward of Foothills. She didn't speak to me. She didn't speak to anyone . She glared harshly at the middle-aged man and woman across the room from us, daggers practically shooting from her eyes. She refused to eat or drink anything.

Still in her vest and work slacks, she sat with her head in her hands, her name tag dangling from her chest. I didn't know a single fucking thing about what was happening to Drew.

I wanted to throw up.

"Dana," I breathed, leaning just a little closer to her and sliding my hand onto her thigh. "I?—"

She pulled away.

Fuck. I wanted to believe she was just worried for Drew, wanted to believe that her actions were just mixed up in fear and anger toward what was happening to her son. But a part of me thought she might have already put the pieces together, and that she wanted nothing to do with me.

Vee walked in through the doors, chatting with a nurse behind her, and within seconds, Dana was on her feet.

"I'll fucking kill you."

The words were knives as Dana spat them. It almost floored me. I'd never heard her speak like that, never heard that kind of anger from anyone except myself.

Before I realized what was happening, her hands were on Vee, driving her back. I jumped to my feet.

"If you'd have just listened to me in the first place, you wouldn't be so goddamn angry," Vee spat back.

Dana's elbow notched back, her breathing steady but heavy, and it was like the launch party all over again.

I grabbed her by the forearm, pulling her back into my chest. "Baby, calm down, calm down?—"

All hell broke loose.

"It's not your goddamn place to decide who I let see my child!" Dana shrieked, her words aimed at Vee but her sudden thrashing aimed at me. I tightened my hold on her as a handful of nurses came running, their shocked faces filling the hallway as Vee took a step back.

"Dana, please," I begged, wrapping one arm around her middle, my other hand holding her arms in place. "Think this through?—"

Footsteps sounded behind me, stopping me mid-speech. As a middle-aged couple came to stand beside us, Dana only thrashed harder. Her ponytail came undone, loose tendrils of wavy brown locks falling in her face. "She's a fucking alcoholic, Vee! You let her around my son and now look where he's ended up!"

Alcoholic .

I looked at the middle-aged woman, taking in the uncanny resemblance.

Her mother .

Bile crept up my throat and entered my mouth.

"That has nothing to do with this!" Vee shot back, the open bottle of Coke in her hand spilling onto the floor. "He's been sick for weeks, Dana. You know that. Mom is not why he's here."

Dana took in a shuddering breath, her chest shaking. I couldn't see her face, couldn't see the tears that were falling, but I knew they were there. "I told you I wanted nothing to do with them. I told you I wanted them nowhere near him. You couldn't respect my fucking boundaries and now my son, my child , is paying the price."

"Girls, please, don't fight over this," the man said, taking a step toward the center of them.

Dana kicked out, nearly knocking me over with the shift in weight. "Dana, breathe," I said, lowering my lips to her ear. "Breathe, baby. Breathe."

Slowly, agonizingly, she listened. She breathed. She started to calm down.

But her words hung in the air, wrapped around my mind, and squeezed. She's a fucking alcoholic. Maybe I shouldn't be here. Maybe I was only making things worse.

But without me to stop her, who knows what she would have done to her sister. She could have ended up leaving the hospital in a fucking cop car, landing herself in a jail cell for the night.

I knew the moment she found out about my relapse, the moment I had to tell her would haunt me. It was already.