Page 70 of The Fix

In fact, I want to go back to not feeling a fucking thing.

Being drunk makes life easier.

It numbs the pain. The confusion. The ache of guilt so damn deep in me that I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of it.

It all hurts so damn much.

Why does it have to hurt?

“Toby.” The whisper of my name is desperate and thick. “Tell me where you are.”

“At the cabin, dipshit,” I lash out, and my gaze goes skyward, regret washing over me like a flood. “Shit, I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare.” I hear the rustle of Mac shaking his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“I’m sick of being stuck here, man.”

Mac’s sigh flitters over the speaker and has me shaking my head. “I know, Tob. Should only be a few more days.”

“I know, I know,” I breathe out. “Cabin fever is getting to me.”

“I believe it. Even if it wasn’t the cabin.”

My chest tightens at the mention. The fact that he remembered something I haven’t talked much about in years.

When Leo offered to buy the place, I got drunk and told him off.

But then when I sobered up for a few hours, heard his rationale behind the idea, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of this place being in the hands of anyone else.

It went to shit after my pops died. I just couldn’t bring myself back here without feeling like I might find him hiding in the woods, avoiding me, ignoring me.

Most days I wish that were the truth.

Leo has done so much to the place that it’s almost unrecognizable. Except I spent most of my childhood in these woods, carving trees that still hold my initials, that I’d find my way back to the cabin blindfolded if I had to.

I couldn’t let it go.

“You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right?”

I blink against the blue sky. “Why do you think I called you?”

Mac’s snicker is weak. “Knew I was your favorite.” He blows out a breath, one I think is more evident than even he realizes. “Then don’t pretend.”

The statement is so easy to say. So easy to ask.

And yet … it’s loaded. Heavy.

Because pretending is what I’ve done since the night of our first big show.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Welcome to the wagon, population: Toby Jeffers.

Known alcohol and drug enthusiast has been reported to be hiding in a mansion along the coast to dry out. Have you seen him? Do you know where Toby is?

Send us all the info!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

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