Page 72 of When We Are Falling

“Thanks.” I say. “But right now, you come first. We’ll go to the shelter, find David, and make sure he’s okay.”

She smiles—a small, grateful smile that makes the weight on my shoulders feel a little lighter. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Let’s get moving.”

We get dressed quickly, and I feed Bandit and make us a couple of protein shakes for the road. As we head out the door, there’s a brief pang of annoyance that I didn’t get my morning workout in, but what can I do? Bandit jumps in the back, head out the window as we drive off.

The streets are almost empty and we soon pull up in front of the shelter, a modest, single-story building on the outskirts of town. The entrance is flanked by a couple of potted plants, their leaves wilted and in need of water.

We park and head inside to what looks like a waiting room. The place is quiet this time of day. Worn-out couches line the walls, and a few tables are scattered around, covered in pamphlets and magazines, while everything carries the faint smell of lemon scented cleaning supplies.

We spot David straight away, pacing near one of the tables at the back, his movements jerky and eyes wild. His clothes are rumpled, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks up as we approach, his expression shifting from relief to agitation and back again as his eyes tick between us, a wild look in his eyes that sets my nerves on edge.

“I can’t believe you brought him with you,” he mutters as we get closer, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Blake steps forward, her voice soft and soothing. “Reverend Billy told me you were here. I came to see if you’re okay. Ethan cares about you, too. It’s okay.”

David’s eyes flick around the room, avoiding her gaze. “Why do you care? You’ve got your own life, your own problems. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Of course I care,” she insists, taking another step closer, her hand outstretched. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I want to help you.”

David’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching tightly as he raises a trembling hand, gesturing wildly. “Help me? How can you help me? You don’t understand what I’m going through.Apparently. If you want to help you’ll just give the damned evidence.”

Blake’s eyes soften, her tone pleading. “You’re right, I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but I want to try. Please, let me help.”

He shakes his head, his movements erratic. “No, you don’t get it. You can’t fix this. You can’t fix me. I’m fucking broken.” He raises his hand higher, and for a moment, I think he might lash out.

Stepping in front of Blake, my voice firm but calm. “Watch it. Lower your arm, please.”

Blake shoots a quick glance at me, her eyes narrowed, then turns back to David. “Do you want to go somewhere to talk? In private?”

“Just the two of us?”

Is this guy serious? “Not a good idea.”

A flash of anger crosses David’s face and he glares at me before focusing on Blake. “Is your guard dog going to come too?”

Blake reaches out a hand, angling her body away from me, and I get that she wants me to back down, but I’m not prepared to leave her in a risky situation. Her safety is more important than whatever is going on with David.

“We can talk just the two of us, figure this out together.”

His expression twists with frustration and bitterness. “There’s no point. You don’t remember anything, apparently, or you’re willing to cover this up, just like everyone else.”

She tries to take his hand but he pulls away, and the hurt on her face just about kills me. What’s wrong with this douchebag? Can’t he see Blake’s just trying to help.

“Let’s see someone. Please. We can get you some help to get clean. You’ve gotten sober before. We can do this.”

He grabs his worn-out bag with a sudden, jerky motion, his voice rising. “I don’t need to get clean. I need you to support me like you promised you always would. I’m out of here. You don’t need to worry about me anymore because I won’t be back.”

He storms past us, the door slamming shut behind him with a violent bang. The sound reverberates through the waiting room, punctuating the quiet that’s gripped the room. Turning to Blake, I’m surprised to see anger and hurt in her expression as she stares at me, likeI’mthe one who did something wrong.

Reverend Billy opens a door leading to the rest of the shelter and steps into the room before either of us has a chance to say anything, frowning deeply. “Is everything okay? I heard raised voices. Where’s David?”

Blake shakes her head. “He’s gone. I’m sorry, Reverend, I tried to get through to him.”

“We need to give him some space at this point. Hopefully when he calms down, we can get him the support he needs to get sober. Don’t give up on him. We’ll figure it out.” Reverend Billy gives her arm a quick squeeze.

The shelter’s waiting room feels even smaller as he says goodbye and leaves us alone. Blake looks rattled, her eyes still searching the door that David stormed out of, the space between us tense, a coiled spring wound too far.

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