Page 116 of Broken Rock

‘I thought it was prudent to keep the four of you under the one roof until we know what’s going on,’ Ellen explains.

He pushes past his sister and Gregg and collapses on the couch with Chloe beside him.

‘What happened?’ Ellen asks before anyone else can get the question out.

‘I’ve been charged with possession. They found drugs in the glove box of my truck apparently. I’m in court in a few days. It wasn’t a lot, not enough to get me for intent to supply so my lawyer reckons I’ll get a fine.’

‘Could it be worse than a fine?’ Chloe asks.

‘Yeah, it could.’ Tate looks up at his friends. ‘I’m innocent by the way or does that even matter?’

Gregg stands up and paces in front of the fireplace. ‘They found drugs, Tate. In your truck. They didn’t just magically appear.’

‘Are you using again?’ Dillon asks.

He glares over at Dillon. ‘No fucking way. They did a test on me. I’m clean. I’ll get you a copy of the results if you want.’ He looks around at the people in the room. Each one of them is like family to him – Chloe included. Of all the people in his life these are the ones he can depend on. The fact that not one of them is looking him in the eye hits like a punch in the gut. ‘You think the heroin was mine.’

Gregg stops pacing and crosses his arms. ‘The Garda aren’t in the habit of planting drugs in cars for a laugh. If you didn’t put them there who did?’

‘If I knew do you not think I’d have said something? Having a fucking criminal record wasn’t on my to-do-list. I could be facing time for this so I guarantee I would have told them if I knew. I’m telling the truth. I’m not using again.’

Gregg glances up at him and raises his eyebrows.

‘Oh I get it. You think because I got drunk the next step is using again.’

Dillon, Luke, and Ellen all target Tate. Ellen pushes to her feet and stands in front of him. ‘You’ve been drinking?’

‘Once, okay.’

She narrows her gaze then laughs harshly. ‘Stomach bug. I knew there was something off about that. You never get sick. So, you stood me up because you were drunk. That’s great, Tate. How much? Stop glaring at me. You’ve come this far. Might as well spill the beans.’

‘A bottle of rum.’

Ellen rubs her forehead and turns away from him. Dillon stands beside Gregg and mirrors his pissed off stance. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because I’m on top of it again, Dillon.’

‘Yeah, it looks that way. You’re a fucking mess.’

‘Please just fuck off. I’m tired.’

Dillon grabs him by the arm and pushes him back a step. ‘No mate. I’m not going to fuck off. This is my life you’re messing up too. Jesus, Tate. We’ve been working our arses off trying to get this album done. Why did we bother? What the fuck have we been putting in all the hours for? We could have ditched it and got smashed with you.’

‘Dillon, back off a little.’

‘No, Gregg. He needs to hear this. When he fucks up he drags us down with him. Are you using again?’

‘I already said I’m not.’

‘But you’ve been tempted.’

‘Of course I have. I just spent an hour with my sponsor before coming back here. I’m dealing with-’

Dillon snorts loudly. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. You’re dealing with it. That’s all you keep saying. How was getting pissed dealing, huh?’

Ellen steps up and tries to get between them. ‘Okay, you both need to calm down. This isn’t helping.’

Tate ignores her attempt to break them up. Right now the holier-than-thou expression on Dillon’s face is hitting a raw nerve. ‘Don’t you dare fucking judge me, Dillon. You were just as deep into it as I was so don’t look at me that way.’

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