Page 41 of The Darkness Within

My best friend.

Blindly, I reached out for him, slipping beneath the sheet to find his cold, damp, stiff hand. “We’re going home, G.” Tears streamed from my useless eyes. My throat closed with dust and emotions I couldn’t swallow. “We’re going home, just like I promised.”

Whatever they gave me through the IV knocked me out for the rest of the flight. When we landed, and I came to again, he was gone.

My hand was empty.

I can feel him before I can see him, and when I peel my crusty eyelids apart, his hand is in mine.

Brewer’s hand.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead. How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” I croak.

He chuckles. The sound warms me, making me feel not so shitty. Brewer gives me hope. No matter how bottom-of-the-barrel I feel, no matter how bad things are, he makes me feel like it’s going to be okay, eventually, because he’s okay, and because I trust he won’t quit on me.

“You’ve been knocked out for most of the day.”

The sky outside my window is dark.

Did he watch over me the whole fucking day?

“I had an appointment with Riggs.” And I promised to make another one of his dreaded NA meetings.

“I called him. Those workouts and meetings are to make sure you put yourself first and take good care of yourself, and today, you did, in a different way. You needed rest. Abusing those psyche drugs did a number on your body and mind, and kicking them is taking a toll on you.”

“I’m a sweaty mess.” I’m not sure which smells worse, my body or my mouth.

“Go take a shower while I change your sheets. When you come back to bed, I’ll have soup waiting for you.”

“Brewer, you don’t—”

“Go, Nash. Move your ass.”

Damn. Is his no-nonsense don’t-fuck-with-me-tone supposed to be such a turn-on? Fuck Viagra.

The hot shower feels like religion, like the most satisfying thing I’ve ever felt. Just standing still, I let the water beat down on my stiff shoulders and back, heating through my skin and loosening the tightness in my muscles. Eventually, I pick up the soap and wash my body. My smooth chest, dotted with a scattering of dark freckles, my pale brown nipples, now tiny and hard. Down my flat stomach, much less toned than it used to be. My thighs, once thick and muscled, the left one now disfigured with thick scar tissue and a divot. It’s slightly thinner than my right leg, but I’m getting stronger, slowly, thanks to Riggs. Saving my flaccid cock for last, I soap the short blond curls around the thick base, rub my sudsy hand down my soft shaft, pulling back the foreskin to wash the uncut head, and I swallow back my self-loathing. It used to be a given that I’d jack it in the shower. Now? It repulses me.

It’s fucking useless, a lot like me.

Crawling back into the bed now covered with fresh sheets, wearing clean soft sweatpants, my head hits the pillow and I close my eyes, waiting for Brewer to return. He comes back carrying a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of cold water. My mouth waters. My throat burns for a taste.

“Eat slowly,” Brewer advises, placing the glass on my nightstand.

“You think I’ll feel better tomorrow?” I ask between mouthfuls.

“A little. It’s a process, Nash. It helps that you’re still taking the meds in smaller doses instead of quitting cold turkey. But the alcohol is a different story,” he adds, staring pointedly at my shaking hand.

When I finish my last bite, he takes the bowl and gets to his feet. “Get some rest, Nash. We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”

“Brewer, will you come back?” He hesitates to answer, and I prod, “Please. I’m scared of my head, of where it’ll take me, and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll be right back,” he acquiesces softly.

My fear and anxiety settle. He’s coming back.

I scoot over to make room for him, and he returns shortly, climbing beneath the covers. The heat from his big, solid body warms me to my soul. Breathing in his clean, fresh scent, I take a deep, easy breath, my first one today. Fuck, I just want to graft myself to his side, to cozy up to him, and fall asleep with his scent in my nose, but instead, I’m worried about crossing lines and pushing him away, so I hold still and keep to myself.

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