Page 47 of Forgiving Fate

My head starts to hurt as I try to figure out what the hell he is talking about. I haven’t heard from anyone. Maybe I’ve ignored the group chats or something, but I would have answered if one of them called or needed something. Especially Wes because if he’s out on a fire, we rarely hear from him unless it’s necessary.

Mom shakes her head, “Honey. Whatever is going on, you can tell us. We aren’t going to judge. And if you just wanted space after a rough mission or time to yourself, that’s okay. What you boys do isn’t easy, and it would be perfectly fine to want to disappear for a little bit.”

Scrubbing my hand down my face, “Mom. I’m telling the truth. I haven’t heard from anyone. You know damn well if Wes called while he’s out on a fire, I wouldn’t ignore him.”

Her head tilts slightly, and she nods, agreeing with me. “You got me there. But I’m still worried about you. Your hands haven’t stopped shaking since we got inside. You have always had a bit of a short fuse, but it’s always directed at your brothers and they most likely deserved it.”

My eyes dart down to my hands and I see that she’s right. They are shaking like leaves in the wind and I push them in my pockets to hide them.

Nice move. She’s definitely going to believe you aren’t hiding something now.

“I just need to eat and get some sleep.”

I need them out of my house. I can feel my anger bubbling, and I don’t want to be a complete jackass to my parents. Plus, I need to figure out what they are talking about. Because I know damn well I haven’t heard from anyone. Including Allie. That’s why I was in such a rush. I clearly need to get a new phone so I don’t miss anymore calls or texts and have them on my case again.

My parents share another look and rise from their chairs. “Alright. Well, we will get out of your hair so you can get some rest. If you need anything, call us.”

I nod and we all make our way to the front door. I step to the side to hold the door open and Dad pats me on the shoulder before walking outside. Mom stops and glances outside before she returns to me.

“Lan. I know you are grown, but you’re still my son and you will always be my baby. You may not think so, but I know you better than you think. I can see something is wrong behind those beautiful eyes of yours. You don’t have to tell me anything, but whatever it is, don’t let it get to the point where it consumes you completely. Because even the strongest have a hard time coming back from that depth of darkness.”

My chest constricts, and I fight back the pain threatening to scream out of me. She cannot know. I refuse to be a burden. This woman has done so much for me and so many others. She is the definition of a superhero and I want her to be proud of me despite how many times I’ve failed. If she knew how often I’ve given into temptation and the devil inside a bottle, she would be disappointed, and that's something I could never survive.

Shaking my head, I nod. “Thanks Mom. I love you. Sorry for being an ass.”

Her hand goes to my face, “Oh sweetheart. Whatever is going on in that mind of yours, please know that whatever it is, I will love you no matter what. You are so strong and not just for others, but for yourself. And if you ever doubt for a moment, you can’t make it past this, just come to me and I will tell you how proud of you I am, how much I love you, and what we are going to do to fix it.”

Damn this woman.

I nod and give her a quick hug before I lose it. She hugs me tight and waves goodbye.

Shutting the door, I lock it and lean my back against it, my head thumping against the wood.

If she only knew what was going on, she wouldn’t be saying those words. There is no way someone could still be proud of the person I’ve become.

My name is Landon Hayes. I have a family that loves me. A roof over my head. A job that helps give people a second chance at life. And I know the second anyone finds out, the only reason I am still standing is because of the one thing that is trying to kill me. It’s evil and shouldn’t hold as much power over me as it does. It’s a simple substance that is consumed by millions a day, but to me, it’s a lifeline. And I know the moment those who love me find out, they will hate me for giving into something so simple and letting it take over my entire life.

I should stop. I want to stop. But I can’t. Because if I do, all the failures and ones I’ve let slip through my fingers will blind me to the point of nonexistence. If I let that happen, then I will leave others to pick up the shoes I failed to fill. So here I am, trading one killer for the next.

Pushing off the door, my body moves on its own accord and before I even realize it, I have a glass of whiskey in my hand.

Heading upstairs to my bedroom, I open the sliding glass doors and step out onto the covered balcony that is only big enough for two lawn chairs. I added this on about a year ago when my insomnia kicked into full gear. I didn’t want to risk falling asleep outside downstairs and becoming bear food, but the inside was suffocating some nights, so I found a solution.

Sinking into one of the chairs, I pull my phone out of my pocket.

In the chaos of everything with my parents, I wasn’t paying attention to my phone, and I needed to see if I missed a text from Allie.

The dream, illusion, whatever the hell that was after I was knocked out, tries to come back like a damn movie, but I shove it away by taking a large swig of my drink.

Tapping the messenger app, I see nothing from Allie and let out a sigh of relief.

Not that you could help her if she did. You can’t stay sober long enough.

“Fuck you,” I say and take another drink.

When I click out of Allie and I’s message thread, I click on the group chat with my brothers.

Gray: Landon. Answer your fucking phone.

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