Page 36 of Addicted

Pulling his cell out of his pocket he dialed quickly, letting all the anger he’d felt that day flow out to the person he called.

“Hello, John? We need to talk.”

14

LIAM

Liamdecidedtowalkhome that night. Aside from the four pills he’d taken over the last sixteen hours, ending up on the storage room floor was a clear sign that he shouldn’t be driving. He was thankful that he’d been alone when he’d passed out. If he’d done that in front of Marci or Owen he would still be in hot water.

Either way, he needed to improve. Eat more. Start walking to and from work. On foot, it was only a half hour to his house and the fresh air would do him some good; plus, he would never forgive himself if he got into an accident and hurt someone. So, he’d left his car in the lot and vowed to come back and get it the next morning before his first dose. Until he stopped working upstairs it would stay parked next to his apartment, on call for when things went back to normal.

Mind spinning as he made his way along the streets, Liam turned left and right on autopilot. He didn’t know exactly what Owen’s call was about, and Owen hadn’t elaborated, but based on his reaction it was most likely related to custody. And it made Owen think he was a failure which was silly because out of the two of them, Liam was clearly the failure. He couldn’t handle a simple day job without freaking out, he couldn’t talk to his old friends or work with his old neighbor without a chemical crutch, and he was losing control to the point of passing out. Meanwhile, Owen was holding down a stressful managing position, smiling and caring for others while his life was circling the drain.

However, Owen saw a therapist. He had a support system that seemed to bolster him. Liam didn’t have any of that, not that it would help. It was awful to think this way but Mikey wasn’t dead, he was only with his mother. Owen may be having custody issues but he would eventually see his son again even if he had to wait until Mikey turned eighteen. Liam wouldneverhave his parents back. A therapist could help Owen bide his time, deal with a problem that had an endpoint. But Liam’s problems didn’t so what could he do? Bide his time? Untilwhat?

Sighing, Liam stared at his hand. He’d been too cloudy to enjoy the pat on the shoulder in the storage room but his wrist and the back of his hand pulsed, leaving behind a warmth that was spreading slowly throughout his body in a rolling rush. If Liam could feel like this all the time then he would never need drugs again.

It was strange. Liam had idolized Mr. Parker, the unattainable blond neighbor that brought about his sexual awakening. Mr. Parker was perfect. He was a great dad, a model husband, he could take whatever life threw at him. He was a king in golden armor, right out of those cheesy romance novels Liam’s mother used to read.

But Mr. Parker had never been real. He was just an ideal. And Owen wasn’t Mr. Parker. Owen was someone new to Liam. He wasn’t perfect. He had problems. He was slightly broken. And somehow Liam’s presence made him feel better. Which Liam had all kinds of feelings about. How could his damaged soul be a comfort to anyone?

Besides, he was not supposed to becomemoreattracted to this man. He was supposed to finish up his office work and go back downstairs for good. He’d already resorted to drastic measures to bear this. Why make it worse on both of them?

But Owen made Liam feel needed, valued, and being someone to somebody was a thing Liam had missed. Before the accident he’d been a son, a friend, a teammate, a student, but for the last three years he’d been nothing to no one. One might argue that Marci and the rest of The Pointe’s staff were his friends but he couldn’t open up to them at all so they were just co-workers, not quite acquaintances and not quite friends.

His stomach sank like it did every time he thought about disconnecting from Owen, about silently and slowly rejecting what was now an actual adult friendship between them. He was going to hurt this wonderful man or he was going to hurt himself.

Turning the corner, Liam stopped, putting a hand on his chest. He felt strange. Not dizzy or gray, more like his skin was prickling and trying to shrink in upon itself, like his veins were shivering.

He tried to shake it off, twitching against a lamppost like a picture-perfect drug user. At the moment he sure felt like one. He needed to slow down a bit; he was up to four or five pills a day now and wanted to take less but every time he tried to space them out he felt awful, the chasm threatening to grow wider each hour he went without.

Dread dripped into Liam’s stomach and the rest of his body joined in on the shivering. His hand traveled from his chest to his arm, closing around his wrist, right over Owen’s earlier touch.

He was truly addicted now and he was not going to get away from this as easily as he thought.

I spent two hours grilling a chicken yesterday.

Liam bit his lip as he quickly looked up from his phone and crossed the street in front of The Pointe, heading into work. It seemed like Owen was sharing a casual tidbit from his weekend but Liam could sense a terrible joke lurking in the background. When his cell chirped again he almost didn’t want to check it.

It still didn’t tell me why it crossed the road.

Liam snickered, although he’d never reveal that to Owen. Thumbs tapping away, he walked past the elongated flower pots that lined the path to the main entrance.

Did you really set up your grill or are you lying to tell a bad joke?

I would never lie to you, the steaks are too high.

It had been a few days since The Rushio Incident. Marci had coined the term and wouldn’t stop crowing about it to everyone, which endeared the staff to Owen even further. That was good. He could use the camaraderie. Although he seemed back to normal after the events of that day, Liam noticed that Owen’s eyes now had a dullness, like his spirit had sunk a bit, but he masked it well. He’d even returned to the land of corny jokes and Liam wasn’t about to deny him that normalcy.

Head down and racking his brain for a sarcastic quip that would punish Owen in just the right way for his awfulness, Liam entered the foyer and strode right by Marci, who jumped in front of him before he reached the staircase.

“Helloooo, Liam! Earth to Liam!” She was way too energetic for the beginning of the day.

“Oh, sorry.” He blinked, putting his phone in his pocket. “What did you say?”

“I asked you if this was your doing.” She waved a piece of paper in his face. Liam craned his neck away from it, his first pill was kicking in a little too hard for all that motion. Grabbing it from her hands, he held it steady, eyebrows rising as he scanned the page.

“Wait. Is this what I think it is?” He read it again to be sure.

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