Page 55 of Bulletproof
The fall woke Travis, but he was groggy and disoriented. He moved in slow motion, unsteady as he lifted his head from the floor. Supporting himself on one elbow, he looked around the room as if he didn’t recognize anyone or where he was. His eyes were unfocussed and clouded, his pupils mere pinpoints. “W-What happened? W-where am I?” His speech was slurred as if he waswasted out of his mind.
“What the fuck did you take?”
Travis squinted at Derek. “Derek? W-what’s going on? What—” He suddenly puked, mostly on the floor, but partly on his arm and shirt.
“Is he OD-ing?” Ricky asked, alarm causing his voice to rise.
“Oh my God.” Derek groaned.
The bodyguard pushed his way through, knelt down and pressedhis fingers to Travis’ neck. He spoke into the microphone on his collar. “We have a situation with Travis Fontana. Room 612.”
“This is more than a fucking situation!” Derek yelled. “Call 911!”
“Don’t call 911 unless he’s OD-ing,” Mark said. “We don’t need any more trouble with the label.”
Derek jumped up, grabbed Mark by the front of his T-shirt and pushedhim against the wall, ready to pound the guy fucking senseless. “You’re a fucking asshole!”
“I’m OK.” Travis moved to a sitting positon with his back to the bed frame, slowly wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
The bodyguard pulled back one of Travis’ lids and peered closely into his eye. “I’m an EMT. What did you take?”
It figured that Felix would hire a bodyguardwho also had EMT training, and for once, Derek was grateful for their manager’s overly-cautious ways.
“What did you take?” the bodyguard asked again. When Travis didn’t respond, the bodyguard slapped him across the face. “Stay awake.”
Travis’ hands flew up to defend himself, and weakly shoved the bodyguard. “Get the fuck away from me!”
Felix burst into theroom and raced to the side of the bed where Travis still sat on the floor. He placed a first aid kit on the bed and stared down at Travis, concern creasing his brow. “Is he on drugs?”
“I think he just took too many sleeping pills.” The bodyguard opened the first aid kit and broke open an ammonia inhalant.
One whiff and Travis recoiled and coughed. “Fuck! Are you tryingto burn out my sinuses with that shit?” He rubbed his eyes, which started to tear.
“I guess he’s alive,” Mark said with a laugh.
Rage burned Derek’s cheeks, and he wanted to fucking punch the guy. “It’s not fucking funny, jackass!”
Travis wiped his hands over his face and let out a deep breath. “Damn. It felt so fucking good to sleep.”
“Good?”Derek exclaimed. “You scared the fucking shit out of us! How many sleeping pills did you take?”
“I don’t know.” Travis paused and rubbed his forehead. “I took one and it didn’t do anything. So I took another one.” His eyes shifted back and forth as he tried to remember what else happened. “I finally fell out, but woke up an hour or so later and couldn’t get back to sleep. So I tookanother. I guess that one did me in.” He paused and furrowed his brow. “Three. I guess I took three.” He ruffled the top of his hair and yawned. “Man, that was the best sleep I had in years.”
Derek sighed, relief settling his rampant pulse. “Please don’t take those sleeping pills anymore. If you can’t sleep, call me. I’ll sit with you. I’ll stay up with you. Talk to you. We’ll dosomething. Just don’t take those fucking pills. Please.”
“I gotta,” Travis said. “I can’t go on like this.”
Derek felt so fucking helpless. His heart bled for the torment in Travis’ face and the anguish in his voice, and again his mind went back to others in the music industry that got swallowed up by the madness, those who didn’t reach out for help and let the demonsdevour them. He wouldn’t let that happen to Travis. “I’ll help you, Travis. I’m here. Let me help you.”
Travis looked deeply into Derek’s eyes, a glimmer of hope shining some light into the darkness that lived in his soul. “Are you gonna save me, Derek MacAlister?”
“I’m sure gonna fucking try.”
