The Redemption(6)

“How long?” Tommy asks, watching her.

“Two hours maybe. I think he had a seizure poor guy. Jenny and I didn’t know what to do. It really freaked us out. I think he just wanted another shot, so we gave it to him. But we need to get back to campus. We have evening classes and a test to study for. Can you drive us back?”

Knowing they won’t hurt me, I hurry to Dex’s side. I hear the girl asking who I am, but neither of us bothers with her. “Dex? It’s me. Can you hear me?” When he doesn’t respond, I lean down, resting my cheek to his. He reeks of alcohol and sweat, but I don’t care. His cheek is warm and he’s alive. While rubbing my hand over his tattooed heart, I whisper into his ear, “Dex, it’s Rochelle. Please wake up. Wake up for me, Dex. I’ll take you home.”

I feel his hand cover mine and his breath against my skin. “Rochelle, beautiful Rochelle.” His other arm comes up and wraps around me.

“I’m here, Dex.”

The words just murmurs, but I hear him say, “Stay with me.”

“I’m here with you. Can you sit up?” I lean back to find his brown eyes dull and bloodshot, so unlike the roguish ones I’m used to. Running my hand over his cheek, I say, “I want to get you out of here. Okay?” He nods, and when I try to move him, I feel every pound of his muscular body. “Help me, Dex.”

Tommy snakes an arm under him and says, “Hey man, it’s Tommy. We’re gonna help you.”

Dex nods again, talking seeming like too much of a chore for him.

When he’s standing, the girl on the couch wakes up. “Are you our ride?”

“No,” I snap. “I’ll call a car for you if you promise never to repeat what happened here again.” We get Dex to his feet, an arm over each of our shoulders.

Tommy says, “He’s able to walk. Get his stuff and let’s move him to the car.”

“A ride? That’s it?” the one girl says, putting her hand on her hip.

Pissed, I glare at her. “You left him here on the bed to die and you expect what exactly?”

“We were just having a good time. He didn’t seem that out of it,” she protests.

I don’t say anything else because I need to control my anger, which I’m struggling to do. With Dex’s boots and wallet in hand, I walk out, leaving the girls for Tommy to come back to handle. Catching up to them on the stairs, I help by holding Dex’s waist. Dex’s arm comes around and he holds me tight. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I say, meaning every word.

We get him into the back seat where he lays down. Tommy runs back upstairs and is gone a few minutes before heading to the motel office. I assume he’s paying the bill and for the damage to the room.

As soon as Tommy pulls back onto the highway, Dex puts his forearm over his eyes. I gulp, hearing the pain in his voice, the strain of the death that has destroyed us winning the battle when he says, “Cory was my best friend and I slept with the woman he loved.”

Tommy reaches over just as my tears begin to fall and squeezes my shoulder. I’m reminded that everyone grieves differently and Dex might kill himself in the process. Even though it’s obvious to us he’s hitting bottom, hitting his lowest, the worst stage in the grieving process, I look out over the flat desert and realize my turn is coming.





It was the harder decision to make, but Tommy and I made it while driving back to LA. Dex had passed out again and we refused to second guess ourselves. It will leak to the press by tomorrow, but we can’t worry about that. Dex needs help. If he had died… we’re not equipped to give him what he needs right now.

He’s not talking to us anymore. Sitting in the backseat, he’s staring blankly out the window, quiet for the last hour. Before that, he was talking a mile a minute trying to convince us that what we were about to do was wrong. Empty promises he can’t guarantee were being made. Anything he could think of saying to change our minds, he tried. We’re holding strong.

My heart starts racing after entering through the large wrought iron gates of the rehab in Santa Barbara. The cobblestone driveway is lined with short pristine grass and flowering bushes. It winds around a large fountain and there’s a bench off to the right that overlooks a large ocean vista. With doubts and the possibility of regret seeping in, I glance back to Dex. When he finally turns and looks at me—his own pain and regrets are showing. I’m betraying him, but I can’t help but think this is seated in the best of reasoning. I apologize anyway. “I’m sorry.”

He looks away from me again and as soon as the car comes to a stop he gets out without hesitation, then slams the car door shut. Tommy sighs, glancing at me before he reluctantly gets out.

When I get out, I overhear Tommy say, “It’s only two weeks, man. You need to clean up, clean out. You know the deal with the band. If you’re using, you’re out.”

Dex pushes past him and spits, “Fuck off, Tommy.”

He treats me worse. The glare he gives me comes without any words at all.

A woman walks out with a clipboard and a fake smile to greet him. He doesn’t look back before the door is slammed shut. From this point on it’s up to him.





One and a half years later…