Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(63)



Lo says, “I asked him why he wanted to know. And he wouldn’t give me a straight answer—just said something about how he went to a family event with you. And I thought, why the fuck would she ever want to bring that douchebag to a party? And then I remembered your mother and how she used to set you up before we were dating.” He pauses. “Something happened, didn’t it? Aaron knows I’m in rehab. He probably decided now was a good time for payback, right? You’re defenseless while I’m basically trapped here.”

“You’re not trapped,” I say. I don’t want him to think of rehab as a prison. Not when it’s helping him.

He groans, and I picture him rubbing his eyes warily. “I want to be there with you,” he says. “I don’t want Ryke to be the one to protect you. That’s my job, and I plan to be a hell of a lot better at it than before...” He trails off, and I read the rest: before you almost got raped. Yeah, he was a little too consumed by alcohol to come to my rescue that night. Thankfully I escaped that, but it still hurts to think about. I’ve tried to avoid public restrooms since then, and I try not to be plagued by the fear of being assaulted. Sometimes it creeps in, and I sink into myself in large crowds, but I’ve always been a little recluse in that sense.

I wish I could reply back I didn’t need protection. But that would be an utter lie. Aaron was aggressive that night, and I did need some sort of reinforcement to help me. “Ryke didn’t protect me,” I say softly. I open my mouth to elaborate, but Lo has already jumped to conclusions.

“What?” His breath deepens. “If he fucking hurt you, I’m—”

“Lo,” I cut him off. “I just meant to say that Ryke wasn’t the one to help me…your father was.”

The silence buzzes through the receiver again.

I elaborate, “He saw Aaron giving me a hard time, and he threatened him. It worked. Aaron left me alone after that.”

The phone crackles.

“Lo?”

Then I hear him exhale. “My father?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. It took a great deal of strength to walk away from someone he loves but has hurt him. And to be caught in the grayness of Jonathan Hale makes it difficult to cut him completely out. Even though that may be best for Loren right now.

“Yeah.” Right now, there’s a slim, hopeless chance he’ll open up about his father, and I kind of think he doesn’t even know how he feels about the man. I’d talk to him about it, but he’ll end the call before I even begin to prod. So I want to change the topic before he hangs up. “So what about rehab?” I ask. “You can’t keep dodging this conversation.”

I imagine him squeezing his eyes shut with that familiar agitation, and he groans again in annoyance. “You just put my head on a Tilt-a-Whirl, and you want to know about rehab?”

“Yes,” I say, not backing down. I have to push him.

He lets out a long breath. “I’m sober. I just thought it’d feel different being sober for this long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so miserable drunk, and I convinced myself that being sober would be the flip-side of being miserable. I guess, I thought sobriety would be ninety-nine percent knock-your-socks-off amazing. Don’t get me wrong, it is nice. I can think clearer sometimes and filter some bullshit that I’d normally have no problem saying. But it sucks too. It hurts more.”

He has to face the pain now. I’m going through something similar. All of the situations I’d drown with sex and a high are things I have to confront head-on. It’s difficult and makes the urges even harder to restrain.

“But I’m not going back to before. Not for anything or anyone…”

“Your father?” I ask, knowing that has to be the “anyone” he’s referring to. Jonathan Hale took away Lo’s trust fund, his inheritance, and everything that financially secured Lo’s future. All because Lo won’t return to college and live up to his impossible standards.

“Yeah. Him,” Lo mutters. “He’s my therapist’s favorite topic.”

Maybe I can ease into this… “Are you going to talk to Jonathan when you get back?”

“I don’t know anymore…” He pauses. “He’s one of my triggers to drink, but I didn’t need rehab to figure that out.”

My chest constricts. “Am I…” What if I’m a trigger. Oh God.

“No, Lil,” he tells me with a short laugh. “You’re the opposite. You’re my stability…my home.”

I inhale, his words pricking my eyes a little. He’s always felt like home to me too. I clear my throat, not wanting to become all sappy over the phone. I only have so long to hear his voice. And then I’ll be alone again. “When you get back, what are you going to do?” He won’t go to college, and he’ll need to earn money now. Ryke and I both offered to help with his finances, but Lo’s pride squashed the idea.

“I’m not sure. I’ll worry about it later,” Lo says softly. I wish I could hold him or hug him. Anything. He sounds a little lost, but what twenty-something isn’t? The only difference between Lo and me at this point is that I’m still in college. But we’re in the same place really. I’m no closer to knowing what I want to do with the rest of my life. I wish my future bachelor’s degree could magically choose a career path that’s perfect for me. If four years of college bought me that, I’d be sold.

Krista Ritchie & Bec's Books