Page 74 of The Darkness Within

West slumps on the sofa, howling with laughter. Fucking numb nut.

“Wardell?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” A nurse approaches us. “Mr. Cahill is waking up. He’ll be ready to go home soon.”

“Perfect, thank you,” he says, sitting up straight. “I’m going to take Mandy home with me for a day or two until he feels a little better. But you’re welcome to come by and check up on him.”

“You don’t mind if I stop by your house?”

“Not at all. It’s good for him to know people care.”

“I do. I don’t know how or why, but I do. He cared about me when I was at my worst, and he didn’t have to do that. I want to be there for him now.”

“Yeah, that’s just Mandy. He’s got a heart bigger than the size of North Carolina.”

“How did we all find each other?” I marvel, shaking my head. “I mean, I was convinced I’d lost the only person who ever cared about me, who ever would. And now I’ve got all of you. How in the hell did that happen?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day.” His cocky grin reaches his eyes, lighting them with wicked humor. “It’s the power of BALLS. Ball power. It works like a magic genie. If you rub them, good things happen.”

I want to laugh, I really do, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. “Oh my God, can we just get the fuck out of here now? I can’t take another minute of your bullshit.”

Does it make me a bad person if I lie and say I’m having flashbacks at night just to get Brewer to sleep with me again? Because at this point, I’m desperate and willing to try anything, even something as low down and dirty as that. It’s not the nightmares keeping me awake anymore, for the most part, it’s the longing, the wanting. Pining for Brewer is driving me out of my mind.

It must be early because I’m alone in the kitchen, for once. I set up the coffee machine and reach for a mug in the cabinet above me just as Brewer comes up behind me, reaching for the same cabinet. I can feel the heat from his body at my back, I can smell his body wash from his morning shower. His soft, warm breath tickles the shell of my ear.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs, electrifying my senses with awareness.

If I could just lean back, press into him, if he would just wrap his arms around me and hold me tight to his chest, for just a stolen moment, I could have something good to carry with me throughout the day.

Brewer inhales, like he’s breathing in my scent, and then grabs a mug, and he’s gone, making the longing and wanting I feel for him multiply tenfold. Filling my cup with coffee, I take a seat at the table and watch as he fills his mug. He didn’t have to do that. There’s a clean mug in the dish rack next to the sink. Maybe he didn’t see it?

Maybe he just needed a stolen moment to carry with him through the day as well.

My phone chimes, a reminder from my calendar that I have exactly one hundred and two days left of Purgatory before I put us both out of our misery and make Brewer mine. It’s the same reminder I get every morning, giving me hope to focus on as I countdown the days.

With his cup full, and a granola bar in hand, Brewer steps out onto the patio, and I follow, taking a seat on the wooden bench. He joins me.

“I want to talk about the progress you’ve made on your second and third steps before we move on.”

Blowing out a tired breath, I take a sip of my steaming coffee. “I feel like I failed the second step.”

“That’s not possible. You can’t fail at stepwork, you just do the best you can, answer truthfully, and the next time around when you work this step, you’ll—”

“Next time around?” Is he fucking kidding me? “You said there were twelve steps.”

“There are,” he chuckles. “But when you finish, you start over from the beginning. Every time you work the steps and celebrate another year clean, you become a different person, and your answers will change. Maybe you dig a little deeper, get more honest with yourself each time, and discover new things about yourself. New insights that help you define yourself.”

“That sounds like a fucking scam, Brewer. What the hell?” It never ends! I’ll be doing these goddamn steps for the rest of my life.

Brewer’s chuckle turns into a full laugh. “It’s not a scam. It works, honest to God.”

“Right, it works if I work it, so I should work it because I’m worth it.” I repeat the mantra with an eye roll and a huff. Sounds like I’ll be working it the rest of my life.

“I think you’re starting to get the hang of this,” he jokes, clapping me on the back. “So tell me why you think you failed.”

“Look, I’m willing to admit that I believe there’s a God up there, somewhere, in charge of it all, even though sometimes I think He turns a blind eye. But I’m not saying I’m ready to hand over the reins and let Him have full control of my life and my decisions. I’m not handing Him my will just yet. He broke his trust with me and He’s got to earn it back. In the meantime, I do believe G is up there and he’s watching over me. He’s got my six, just like he always did. Maybe reaching out to him is a little easier for me.”

“You didn’t fail, Nash. The way you feel is perfectly natural. Establishing a relationship with your higher power takes time and trust, and, like you pointed out, you’re not ready to trust him yet with good reason. So have you reached out to Victor?”

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