Page 96 of Hard Rock Deceit
He breathed heavily, trying nottomove.
"Nothing," he said dully. "You can't doanything."
"Tell me about it." I ran my hands over his back, soothing. "Walk me through what'sgoingon."
"Everything aches. Like there's a knife stabbing through all my joints." He swallowed hard, pale face turning green. "It feels like my insides are going to come spewing out of my mouth. I'm burning hot one minute and freezing cold the next. Like the flu but a thousand timesworse."
This was serious. Did people die fromwithdrawal?
"We should go to a hospital,"Isaid.
"No." His voice wasn't as firm as he no doubt tried to make it sound. "I can't show up at a hospital like this. The media will find out. It'll be all overthenews."
"August, I'm not kidding, you need adoctor."
"No."
"Why are you so stubborn?" I asked,exasperated.
"People can't find out." He ran one trembling hand over his face. "I just need to get through this. Should only be a couplemoredays."
His forehead broke out in a sweat. I put my hand to hisclammyskin.
"You're burning up," I said, alarmed. "Let me go getsomething."
The house was large, but the living room was connected to a dining room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. I fumbled around for a cloth and wet it with cold water in the sink. I took a fruit bowl from the counter, tipped out the apples and oranges, and filled it with ice from the freezer. I grabbed a few bottles of water from thefridge.
Hands full, I looked around helplessly, not knowing what elsetodo.
I returned to August's side. The trembling hadintensified.
"Why don't you rest?" Iasked.
I put my hand on his back and urged him to lay down flat on the sofa. He let me maneuver him withoutprotest.
"I really think we need medial supervision," Iinsisted.
"I justwantyou."
With a heavy sigh, I placed the cold cloth on his forehead. "Maybe this will helpabit."
He groaned in pleasure, sinking down into the sofacushions.
"Thank you," he said. "I wasn't sure… when I texted you, I thought you probably wouldn'tshowup."
"Why would you think that?" I asked gently. I tucked the blanket around him, covering every inch of him, from chintofeet.
"I was an asshole. I said horrible stuff to you. I never should have done that. I hated myself for it the minute I said it. I was just so fucked up and upset andscaredand—"
I placed my finger on his lips,stoppinghim.
"We can talk about this later, when you're feelingbetter."
I went back to tucking in hisblankets.
"Anyway, you were right," I said. "I shouldn't have tried to lecture you about lying. It's not myplace."
"It is," he insisted. "You're the one who calls me on my bullshit. I need thatsometimes."
