Page 44 of Shattered

Steven explained that his son, who initially got hooked on prescription drugs, had a difficult week and realized $100 was missing from his wallet. According to his son, he had noknowledge of it. It’s interesting to see everyone in the group nodding as if they’ve experienced this before, which makes me wonder if Brayden has ever gone through this with Bexley.

The lady smiles at Brayden. “Would you be happy to share why you’re here?” Brayden nods and smiles tightly, clearing his throat.

“Hey, I’m Brayden.”

Everyone in the group says, “Hey, Brayden.”

“My brother, my twin brother,” he follows up. “He struggles with drug addiction. All kinds of drugs. He began at fifteen, but he started selling at twelve.”

A sinking sensation drops in my stomach. I was unaware that Bexley began selling drugs at such a young age. Shit.

“He’s my best friend and I want him back. His childhood was stolen from him, and now his teenage years have been taken away too. I want him to live, not just for me, but for himself. I want him to see the world, I want him to meet someone, have a family. Marry. I want him to witness what real love is.” His voice becomes hoarse, and I catch a glimpse of the woman across from me, her eyes glazing over.

“He kept me safe during my childhood. We had, well, have a bad mom. She cared for us until she didn’t. During my upbringing, he fulfilled the roles of both my mom and dad. All he ever wanted was a better life for me, and I can’t help but feel guilty for what happened to him. He started this because of me and then it took over him.” His once upright stance crumbles as he fixes his gaze on the ground, his shoulders sagging. I don’t want to cut him off by interrupting him and checking his ok. I want him to be able to fully communicate his thoughts. I think he needs this. He needs to speak to people who understand the struggle he is going through. "He wants to stop." he sighs and then continues. "He knows I’m here today. We are unable to secure the necessary funds for his placement in a reputablerehab center, and the state options are unhelpful. He’s trying to stop for me, but I need him to do it for himself more than anything. As far as I’m aware, he has never tried to quit before. I see this as a promising start, but yeah.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m at a loss and uncertain about my next move. Despite some recent regrets, I will always stand by him. He’s my twin brother, the other part that completes me. I mean nothing without him. I’ll stick by his side no matter what. But I can’t just watch him slowly kill himself because, to be honest . . . ” With a pause, he makes eye contact with the woman, who brushes a tear off her face. “He’s killing me along with him.”

A man next to him places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and I have to clench my fists to refrain myself from leaning over and flicking his hand away.

I need to get a fucking grip.

As others murmur their admiration, Brayden inhales deeply and smiles at the man next to him, having impressed everyone with his sharing on the first day. Going into that level of detail immediately is not something many people can do, but he was able to. It further emphasizes how much he needed this outlet and to be around like-minded people.

“Can I ask a question?” the lady inquires.

He nods rapidly. “Go for it.”

“Your face”—she points to his bruised face and cut lip by mimicking the motion on her own face—“Did he do that?”

Brayden vigorously shakes his head from side to side, saying, “No, no, no. He’s never laid a hand on me.”

She smiles softly. “Was the involvement of your brother and the drugs related to whoever did that?” He sits in his chair, frowning and fidgeting, his shoulders drooping as the adrenaline fades. His body language reveals everything.

“Yes,” he murmurs, his stare fixed on the floor. I guess he doesn’t need to tell me who did that. A small part of me waspraying it was hockey. Although I would have found out the player and probably hoped he broke his ankle on the ice, but I know now it’s not hockey. It’s that fucking Karl. I suddenly get up and head to the refreshments, pouring myself a glass of water, secretly craving for something stronger. It’s clear that my interaction with Karl has had no effect, and I’m clueless about how to go about this. I can’t allow him to harm Brayden. Daxton is already bad enough, but Brayden is crossing the line. I drink two cups of water and then return to my chair, taking a seat. It's as if nobody said a word while I went to get water. I clear my throat.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Michael can sympathize with you,” the lady says to Brayden. She signals toward a man on the other side of the room. With a nod, the man reveals a glimpse of his bare stomach.

“I was stabbed three times by my son’s dealers due to his outstanding debt,” he grunts.

Jesus Christ.

Brayden’s eyes widen as he stares at the three scars on his abdomen.

“The danger of addiction lies in its ability to cause harm not only to the addict themselves but also to those around them,” she says with a sad smile.

“Is there anything you wanted to share?” The lady glances at me. Swallowing becomes difficult as a sharp pain stabs my chest. I have the option to inform them about Jace, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing it, either with them nor with Brayden. I’m not prepared to share that yet.

I understand all too well the destructive power of drugs and the havoc they can wreak on a family and individuals.

I put on a smile and shake my head.

“No, I’m only here to provide support.” I motion toward Brayden beside me.

“How did you find it?” I glance at Brayden, who looks a bit lighter. He smiles broadly at everyone and shakes their hands as we walk past. I’d say today was a win.

“It was great.” He smiles. “It felt good getting it off my chest, you know. It was good to hear other people’s stories and know that I’m not on my own in this. Michael and Geoff provided me with their contact information, encouraging me to reach out for questions or advice outside of the group.”

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