46. Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Six

Toby

" L ast dose, Mr. Jeffers."

I accept the tiny cup with the little pill inside with a cock to my brow as I swallow it dry. "I thought I had another two weeks on this shit?"

The nurse smiles at me. "Doc said to make this it. Says so in your chart."

Huh. I guess that's good news.

"And don't forget," the nurse continues as she fiddles with things around the room, going about her normal checks to make sure no sharp objects or substances have been stashed. "Group was moved to the next morning for you."

I nod.

"I'm so excited for you," she continues, oblivious to my internal turmoil, replacing the throw pillows on the little couch in the corner and dusting off the cushion with her palm. "You have family coming for the first time tonight! How long has it been?"

Sighing, I run a hand down my face, the fingers itching to grow back the length that's been trimmed down. "Thirteen weeks."

"Wow." The nurse straightens, her eyes wandering over the space of my room, still in search of something out of place, something that might cause alarm, before finally settling on me. "That's a long time. Only a few more to go, though." She nods with a smile, as if reassuring me, though it doesn't settle the nerves battling their way through my stomach.

These meds fucking suck.

"Five weeks, six days, and ten hours. Give or take."

"Not that you're counting." The nurse snickers, but nods knowingly. "Well, I'm off. Let me know if you need anything."

A simple jut of my chin sends her on her way, leaving me alone with my thoughts for the next few hours.

I could have gone down to the game hall, got lost in some gaming system, or a movie playing on the projector, but my nerves keep me planted in my safe space.

Here, I'm surrounded by muted colors. Easy textures. A room that looks similar to many a hotel suite—minus the extravagancies—that I would have destroyed in the past for being just too damn … bland.

Like the singular painting hanging on the wall above the bed that looks an awful lot like the view of the cabin from down the mountain.

That one little painting almost didn't make it when the staff led me to this room, convincing me to sleep beneath it each night like it wasn't a sordid reminder of all the things I'd done wrong.

An exact replica of the place I'd fucked up the worst.

All the lies I told.

"Toby?"

I turn away from the painting at the sound of the knock accompanying my name, and square my shoulders. "Hey, Lugh, are they here?"

Nodding curtly, he steps back and closes the door once again, granting me a moment of reprieve.

When I got here, Lugh was not my first choice to be the one sticking around. I would have rather he left along with the rest of them, leaving me to rot here alone, and in peace.

But that's the thing about being a rock star. You never really get to be alone once everyone knows your name.

Even some of the patrons here knew me, not to mention the staff, and my anonymity flew out the window on the second day.

I guess having the bodyguard not too far away wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

Whoever decided that should get a fucking medal, and I'd bet my ass I knew who it was, too.

The second knock on the door has my head snapping up and my jaw clenching, my fingers trembling.

Showtime .

Steeling myself, I roll my shoulders back and reach for the door.

It's been weeks since I've seen any of the men I call brothers. The guys I talk about with the doc. Months since I spoke to any one of them.

I know it'll take a lot on both our parts, but they're all I've got left.

The walk to the main house where visitors are allowed is long and winding, but lined with plants coming to life and a few clients of the facility that prefer to stare.

I used to think they watched me walk along the path because they knew . Because they could see my addiction painted on my face, and in my gait, and there was never a time where anyone would look at me and think anything different.

I'm just an addict. An alcoholic. A man with a problem.

A liar and a fool.

A man without a father.

But now … their eyes avert out of wonder instead of fear.

All they ever saw was a rock star in their midst.

A rock star with a rather large and imposing shadow that followed everywhere I went.

Thanks, Lugh .

Tossing a glance at the man looming just behind me, I smile.

"Quit looking at me like that," Lugh murmurs, keeping his sights trained ahead.

"Like what?" I spin toward him, my feet carrying me backward along the path I could walk blindfolded.

"Like you're about to say some shit that's nice or something. It's weird."

I snort and spin back around, my muscles stiffening as the main house comes into view. "Fine, I'll bottle that up with the rest of my bullshit."

"Tell your bandmates that shit. Not me. I'm just here for a paycheck."

"Liar."

A grunt rumbles out of my bodyguard.

My heart pounds in my chest as we reach the stoop of the main house, and I swear I feel like I'm about to puke with the nerves that only resemble those I got before I walked on stage for the first time.

Weeks.

Months.

It might as well be years since I've been in front of anyone from my band. My friends.

My unknowing enablers.

I nearly stumble when Lugh pushes me into the building and rests a directing, but reassuring, hand on my shoulder.

I force a breath just before we enter the visitor room, my hands set on vibrating out the anxiety flowing through me as he keeps me walking.

Straight to the tables set up for just this occasion, with only one body taking up space.

One set of shoulders.

One head of perfectly styled blonde hair.

My heart sinks.

With a desperate gaze darting around the room, I lift up on my toes to see the window in the door that leads to the outside of this place, only to come up empty.

I was expecting all of them.

" Toby … "

The air of the room thickens when my band manager stands and offers a hand in greeting.

It's not the handshake I leave hanging that has my stomach prepping to evacuate once again.

No.

It's the sadness in his normally brilliant blue eyes. The band tee in place of his pressed button-up. The five-o'clock shadow highlighting his jawline. The knowing way his mouth doesn't lift in a grin at the sight of me.

Leo's hand drops back to his side. "I'm so glad your sponsor called me, man. It's been too fucking long."

I nod with a clench to my jaw and a flare to my nostrils as a wave of anger settles itself into my blood like it's in for the long haul.

Doc was right.

Because while I'm pissed the rest of the crew isn't here, I'm even more angry at the man standing in front of me.

As if he can sense the change in me, he hangs his head.

"I'm sorry, Toby. I'm so fucking sorry. I had no idea." His blonde head shakes, some of the pieces of hair falling loose around his forehead. "I should've known and I didn't."

I know I need to say something to the man, but instead of rushing the words, I busy myself by pulling out the chair across from him and plopping my ass in it.

"No one is being replaced. In the band," Leo continues as he sinks into the seat across from me. "That's not at all what I was going for when the guys brought it up all those months ago."

"Then what were you going for?" The sound of my voice seems to shock him, and to be honest, it comes out pretty thick, even to my own ears.

"I … I wanted everyone to have a touring backup. It was about burnout and the media. After all the shit we've all been through, I wanted to make sure that each of you could get a break when you needed it."

"Like this?" I cock a brow and gesture around us. "Having to send one of us to rehab?"

His gaze sharpens, his shoulders squaring. But the voice that responds is anything but angry.

"If this isn't what you need, then tell me."

I shake my head. "You made the decision. You and whoever else, while I was out, to add more people to the band. To our family. And didn't bother to tell me you were even thinking about it. Just like you decided to medicate me when I was too weak to make the decision myself."

Leo's torso slams back in his seat like I gut punched him.

A thick silence falls around us, and I would swear I could see the bags under his eyes darken in that moment, just as I feel my stomach drop against the weight of the words.

It hurts. So damn much. And yet, it needed to be said.

Honesty.

"I know that now," he mutters, that icy gaze slamming to mine and refusing to leave. "I made a mistake. Actually, quite a few. And I know that an apology will only go so far. So instead of saying I'm sorry again"—Leo's throat bobs with a swallow before he leans forward, bracing his forearms on the table—"I'll ask for your forgiveness and hope that I can actually earn it someday."

A lump forms in my throat at his declaration, and I nod.

I don't want to be mad at him forever.

I don't want to be mad at them at all.

I just want my family back.

"Let's go for a walk."