Page 93 of Addicted

Liam squinted at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Owen shook his head again. “Just a little tired.”

“Do you need me to drive?” Liam unbuckled his seat belt, about to get out of the car, but Owen put it in gear.

“No, no, no. I’m fine.”

Liam should have gone to The Pointe. He was used to being alone whenever Owen worked but after a day of harsh reveals the condo felt emptier than it usually did. Instead of wallowing, Liam decided on self-care and spent the evening taking a bath and trying to read a new self-help book; however, he couldn’t focus. He even contemplated the three boxes from his parent’s house that sat by the hallway, next on deck for unpacking, but didn’t want to do it alone. So, once he dried off he streamed an old favorite sitcom on his laptop while heating up the meal Owen had prepared for him the night before.

Owen was so kind and thoughtful, always making sure that Liam ate, that he was comfortable, that he was happy, and Liam still couldn’t believe that this wonderful man was in his life, especially once he saw the depth and breadth of Liam’s issues. But Owen had stood by him as promised, going above and beyond, and now Liam had to do the same because Owen needed care as well. He was battling insomnia and nightmares. Far too often Owen would cry out Michael’s name in his sleep and Liam would try to soothe him, smoothing a hand over his brow as he slept and whispering that it would be all right.

And Liam had to keep his word, follow through just as Owen had, because they were in a relationship now and it couldn’t be one-sided. They were going to care foreach otherand Liam wasn’t going to selfishly stand back and let Owen wear himself down into nothing. Liam had addressed the sleeplessness before, many times, and Owen had always insisted that he was fine. But he wasn’t fine. He was tired and pale and suffering from the loss of his son. And he’d canceled on his therapist too many times.

Liam gritted his teeth. No, Owen wasn’t going to be able to brush him off again. Picking up his phone, Liam considered calling Finn to ask for advice and support. Would that be okay? He didn’t want Owen to think they were ganging up on him; plus, he wasn’t sure if Finn liked him enough yet.

As if it could sense thought, Liam’s cell rang in his hand and he jumped, almost dropping it.

But it wasn’t Finn, it was Marci, which was strange because she should be midway through a wedding reception and too busy to call for a chat.

“Hello?” Liam pressed the phone to his ear.

“Liam don’t panic.” That statement wouldneverkeep anyone from panicking, especially when coupled with Marci’s tense voice.

Liam’s chest squeezed, his hands going slick with sweat.

“Wh-What’s wrong?” He started to wheeze.

“I’m just letting you know that Owen is okay.He’s okay. But he collapsed in his office and-”

“Owen collapsed?”Liam heard his voice bounce off the walls.

“The ambulance is already here. He’s conscious and insisting that he’s fine but I don’t like his color. The EMTs want to bring him to the emergency room to get checked out.”

“Oh my god.” Liam ran a shaky hand through his hair as he stood, pacing the living room.

“Why don’t you meet us at the hospital? Dylan is going to pick you up because I know you’re upset and I don’t want you driving. He’ll be there in five minutes. It’s okay, Liam, he’s okay. Wait for Dylan.” She was in full big sister role, trying to assure Liam, but any consolation bounced right off his anxiety, unable to be absorbed.

“Um, okay. Okay. Oh my god.” Liam didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to be an adult and he’d been training in rehab and therapy on how to deal with stressors but the last forty-eight hours had been a lot to carry, and this was another thing piled on top.

He didn’t want to lose Owen the way he’d lost his parents.

Liam didn’t remember saying goodbye to Marci. All he knew was that he needed to get in Dylan’s car and go to the hospital. Absently, he remembered to turn off the stove - the leftovers would have to wait - and found himself scrambling around the condo, trying to find his jacket and keys, his anxiety coming to a boil.

Was Owen going to die? Was it Liam’s fault? He should have pushed Owen to get more sleep earlier, he’d been so selfish. Where was his phone? He was sure he’d just put it down.

Tears sprang to Liam’s eyes, blinding him, and as he exited the hallway his foot caught the corner of one of the boxes he had yet to unpack, toppling it. It opened as it fell, the contents of his parents’ bathroom spilling everywhere. Cursing, Liam kicked a box of cold medicine and fell to his knees, breaking down into sobs. Fear clawed at his throat, closing it up, and he tried to breathe, everything he’d been practicing, all the techniques he’d been learning dissolving from his brain.

Wheezing, Liam slapped away a box of bandages and it caught the bottom of an orange prescription bottle, sending it spinning into his legs. Slowly, as if in a dream, Liam picked it up, reading a single word on the label over and over. It called to him, stirring the yearning inside, letting him know that, if he wanted to, he could make all his fear go away.

Hydrocodone.

Dylan got to the hospital in record time, following all the rules of the road but at a pace that had Liam holding the oh-shit handle for most of the trip, only letting go when they pulled up in front of the emergency room. Liam was surprised to find Finn outside the doors, waiting for them.

“Marci called him.” Dylan jutted his chin toward Finn as Liam got out of the car. “Tell Bossman to get some sleep. I gotta go back to The Pointe and help Marci with the rest of the party. Text us?”

Nodding absentmindedly, Liam heard the car drive off as he reached Finn, whose expression was pinched. He didn’t seem overly concerned but he wasn’t exactly happy either.

“Where’s Owen?” Liam wasn’t rattled anymore, only strangely calm.

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