Page 90 of The Fix

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.”

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