Rock Bottom (Bullet) (3 page)

“And that’s when I realized I lost her.  Even if I didn’t, I knew then I didn’t deserve her.  And, really, we just weren’t good for each other.  I love that woman.  I do.  But I will never treat her right.  We have a…what are they called? 
Dysfunctional relationship.  I will never know how to treat her the way she deserves to be treated.  I seriously doubt I’ll ever be good for any woman.  Truth is, though, there was someone else I knew she loved more than she loved me, and that was someone I knew would treat her right.”  He rested his forehead on his hand again, his elbow resting on the arm of the overstuffed leather sofa.

“Are you really okay with that?”

“Do I have a choice?”  He sighed.  “No, I’m really not, and I’m still being a bastard about it.”  He swallowed.

“Tell me about that.”

“Well…Brad and Val are living together now, and even though I knew they’d secretly loved each other for forever, it pisses me off.  Really pisses me off…made me feel like they were just waiting for me to go off the deep end so they could hook up.”

“Do you really think that’s the case?”

“No.  But it still hurts.  Even though I know I’m the worst possible person for Val, it still hurts.  And even though I know Brad is the best man for her, will love her and take care of her better than anyone else on the planet ever could, it hurts.  And it makes me fucking pissed.”

“So what are you doing about it?”

Ethan had to relax his jaw to talk.  “I’m refusing to grant her the divorce.  And I’ve threatened to take full custody of our son.”

“Is that something you want…full custody?”

Ethan shook his head.  “No, not really.  Don’t get me wrong.  I want to see Chris.  I love that kid.  But, no.  I don’t want full custody.  Val’s been a good mom to him.  I’m only being…I’m being an asshole.  I haven’t even asked my lawyer yet…but I’m considering it.  It’s like I can’t…like I don’t want to stop hurting Val.  Like the stupid bitch shouldn’t have ever fallen for me in the first place, and I’m gonna make her regret it.”

“Do you really want to punish her for that?”

“Part of me does, yeah.  It’s like she…reminds me of my mom.”

Where the fuck did that come from?  Ethan tried not to let the shock register on his face, and he felt more anger swell in his chest, make his blood feel hot as his eyes began to fill with hot liquid.

He stood.  “Uh…I think I’m done for the day.”

Dr. Thomas stood as well.  “Hold on, Ethan.  We still have twenty minutes.”

“We’re done.”

“Okay…let’s schedule your next appointment.”  Dr. Thomas walked over to the door so they could speak with the receptionist in the lobby.  “But before you go, I’d like to mention something.”

Ethan shoved his fists in his jeans, again willing his jaw to relax.  God, he wanted a drink more than he had in a long time.  He nodded but said nothing.

“I think you have a lot more to tell me and that’s fine if we go at your own pace, but I’d really like you to attend a drug and alcohol support group.”

Ethan eyed him.  “Like Alcoholics Anonymous, you mean?”

“It’s like that, but it’s run by a colleague of mine.  Her name is Jenna McCormick, and she’
s a Certified Addiction Counselor.  Lots of my patients who have a hard time opening up and others who have struggled for years have found Jenna to be more helpful than others.  I think she’s easier to relate to than other counselors.  I’m not saying others aren’t good, but I get the feeling you might prefer her to others.”  Thomas walked over to his desk and opened a drawer.  He pulled out a card and pen and wrote on the back of the card.  “They meet every Thursday night at seven in the basement of a church on Broadway.”  He led Ethan out into the hall and stopped by the receptionist’s desk.  “Laurie, Ethan needs another appointment with me.  Next Monday okay?”  Ethan nodded his assent.  “And would you also write the address of that church where Jenna’s addiction group meets every Thursday night on the back of her card?”  He handed the card to the receptionist.  The doctor held out his hand and shook Ethan’s.  “See you next week, Ethan?”

Ethan nodded again, slowly. 
“Yeah.  Thanks.”  The doctor smiled and then walked into the lobby to see if his next patient had already arrived.  Before the receptionist started asking him questions about his next appointment, Ethan settled on one fact…he was feeling more hopeful on this day than he’d felt in ages.  He didn’t know if hope was good or bad, but it was better than the other emotions that had been rolling around inside his head.  He just hoped this weird new feeling would last a while.

Chapter Three

JENNA WAS NERVOUS as hell.  That
never
happened to her.  She hadn’t been an addiction counselor forever, but she’d been one long enough that not much fazed her anymore.  Seeing people at their worst, watching people struggle, knowing people could do evil things for stupid reasons had helped her stay calm most of the time (not to mention it helped her reserve judgment).  She hardly ever got rattled.

But Dr. Thomas’s office had called earlier that day to let her know they were sending over one of the doctor’s newest patients.  He was a guy who’d struggled with alcohol and a variety of drugs for years
, and Thomas was treating him for some problems.  Thomas said he hadn’t had the new patient sign a release yet so he couldn’t go into detail about his treatment, but he
did
want her to expect him.  And she was fine with that…

Until she found out her newest client was going to be none other than Ethan Richards, guitarist of the heavy metal band Fully Automatic.  If she hadn’t been a fan, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, b
ut she knew the band, loved their music.  She had heard through the press that he’d had a lot of struggles, had even OD’d on heroin more than once.  He had some serious problems, if she’d read between the lines correctly, and she felt like her counseling would be inadequate.

He’s just another client, Jenna
, she told herself.  Yeah…just another guy who needed counseling, needed a helping hand to stay clean.

But he
wasn’t
just another guy.  He was Ethan Fucking Richards, one of the best guitarists on the planet.

Hell, yes, she was a little intimidated.  He wasn’t the average junkie.

Yeah…Ethan Richards.  She was having a hell of a time chilling out.

No, it was okay.  She could do it.  And she wouldn’t go all
fangirl on him.  She knew he’d appreciate that.  He needed now, more than ever, people to treat him like just another guy.  For all she knew, he’d relapse if they put the pressure on.  No way was she gonna do that.  And she hoped none of her other clients would call him out either.  A few of them were safe, that much she knew from some of their previous conversations, but others—guys like Jay who listened to hard music—might recognize him.  It was hard to tell.  She was sure Ethan would look a little different in person.  In fact, the last pictures she’d seen of him hadn’t been flattering at all.  He’d been a little overweight and unkempt…scruffy.  He’d looked bloated and puffy, like he just didn’t give a shit anymore, and maybe that had been true.  But that had been well over a year ago, maybe longer.  She knew he’d been back in rehab since.  Maybe he was trying to let go of the shit once and for all.

She was flattered that Dr. Thomas had thought of her in this instance.  She knew he sent her his tougher cases, ones who didn’t respond to more traditional counselors.

Her anxiety waned, though, when ten minutes into the group session, he hadn’t shown up.  Either he was coming the next week or had forgotten about it…or he might have even been blowing off his psychiatrist’s suggestion and was instead at the bar, drinking his life away.

Oh, that wasn’t nice, and—just like last week—Jenna noticed she wasn’t paying proper attention to the folks she should have been helping.  So she
tried to focus on Olivia, the fifty-something blonde who intended to shake the whiskey habit once and for all.

And that was when he walked in.

Jenna didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry.  Ethan Richards stomped into the room in the basement, obviously wanting all eyes on him.  At least he wasn’t drunk.

Once he had everyone’s attention (and it wasn’t hard, considering he walked to the center of the circle), he asked, “Is this Soaring Free?”  Jenna started to stand, ready to introduce herself.  She wanted to get his ass sat down so Olivia would feel comfortable continuing with her story.

“Yes.  And you’re Mr. Richards, is that correct?”  Before he could even answer, she said, “Please, have a seat.”

He sneered.  “You
know
who I am, don’t you?”

Jenna’s arm was still outstretched, pointing to the empty chair next to Jay.  “Should I?”
  He raised his eyebrows.  “Here, you are one of us, and we welcome you.”  She clipped her words.  “But you’re late, Mr. Richards, and Olivia was sharing with us, so if you don’t mind…”  She again pointed to a chair, hoping he’d take the hint and sit.

His nostrils started to flare and one of his eyebrows was still raised, but Jenna thought she could see the hint of a smile on his lips.  He turned and sat in the empty chair next to Jay.  Jenna saw the look on Jay’s face and could tell.  He knew who Ethan Richards was.  He might have been trying to make sure, but he knew.

And, while Olivia began talking again, Jenna was completely lost.  Ethan Richards might have been a real dick, but he had a charisma about him and his charms hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.  That, and in spite of the fact that the guy looked tired, he was hotter than hell.  This was going to be rough…but not impossible.  She only hoped she was able to hide her emotions as well as she was trying to.

* * *

Ethan was smitten in less than sixty seconds.  Yeah, he was up to his usual self-sabotage.  He’d arrived late to the group session Thursday night, and while he tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault, he knew better in the back of his head.  If he’d known what to expect, he might have tried to make a better impression.

But, before he’d walked in that church
basement, he’d been imagining an older woman.  Sure, the name
Jenna
sounded younger, but he pictured someone not unlike Dr. Thomas—someone who was middle aged and who looked like she belonged in a college library.  Instead, this woman looked like one of the many groupies who would surround him every night on tour.  She wore black and her hair was long, flowing, and a deep auburn.  Her eyes were a darker green than his, and they took him in with a coolness he hadn’t felt in a long time.  That was intriguing.  And even though her clothes looked neat, clean, and professional, they had a metal edge to them.  Add to that, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was at least one tattoo under that sleeve.

But it sucked, because—even though Ethan enjoyed the company of women and wouldn’t mind fucking this particular
one—he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to experience a real relationship.  No matter how hot he thought this woman was (and what a fucking turn on that she was running the show—in just two minutes, he’d been able to assess that she was sharp and in control), a relationship was out of the question.  Not only did Ethan believe he’d never be able to treat
any
woman right, he knew he’d be better off not starting up anything with someone who was going to try to help him.

Yeah…he’d loved Valerie more than he’d ever loved any other woman.  That alone told him he’d never be able to treat any woman the way she deserved to be treated.  Val had been his rock—she’d always been there, had never stopped believing in him, and it hadn’t mattered how much he’d cheated on her, risked his life, or made her feel like shit.  She hadn’t left him until she
’d felt like her life had been in danger.  And, really, it was better that way, because he was never going to be able to stop hurting her (even if it was just mental anguish).  Yeah, he was pissed that she was with Brad now, but he knew deep down that Brad was the better man.  Ethan didn’t deserve Val and he knew it, but he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

He knew too that he should avoid relationships altogether from this point forward, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He’d still need sex, no question about it, but there were always groupies willing to help him out.  He was going to try his
damnedest to avoid relationships with women who would expect more, though, because he just couldn’t be the man any woman would want.  He knew that.  He’d tried—more than once—and failed miserably.

Still, it’d be nice to have a gorgeous redhead asking him questions and talking sweetly to him for a couple of hours every week. 
There were a couple of other women in the room he wouldn’t mind banging either, but they were off limits.  They were junkies, probably barely holding on like he was too, and all he needed to do was get involved with someone else ready to help him start chasing the dragon again.  That had happened right before his last stint in rehab.  He’d moved in with a whore who’d kept him supplied with everything he’d asked for.  He’d lost complete track of all time and any motivation he should have had.  It was a miracle he’d gotten out alive.  The only reason he had was because the whore and her girlfriend had spent all the cash he’d had stashed in the apartment and the landlord came looking to collect rent.  Both the girl and the smack were gone…along with the thousands of dollars he’d had…a couple of months before that?  He didn’t remember.  It was all a blur.

He could fantasize, though.  In the meantime, none of these people even acted like they recognized him, and that kind of pissed him off.  He’d gotten used to red carpet treatment, even in rehab, and these people were just staring him down like he was a lowly worm.
  The counselor repeated what she’d said seconds earlier:  “Please, have a seat.”  Ethan followed the line of sight to where her arm pointed and eyed the chair—it was between a middle-aged woman and a skinny guy who looked to be in his thirties.  He shrugged, still feeling a little miffed that no one was fawning all over him, and sat down.

“So, Olivia, if you don’t mind just giving me a moment.”
  The middle-aged woman beside Ethan smiled and nodded, and the hot rocker-type chick at the head of the circle continued.  “Ethan, welcome to Soaring Free.  I’m assuming you know that we are all about addiction recovery.  More than that, though, our focus is on quality of life.  I’m Jenna McCormick, and I am a licensed counselor.  If everyone would just take a moment, let’s please go around the room and have you all introduce yourselves to Ethan.  First names only.”  First names only?  Hadn’t she called him
Mr. Richards
just moments earlier?

But he didn’t have a chance to say anything as everyone who was seated went around the room introducing themselves.  The woman named Olivia had started it
, and it ended with the man to Ethan’s right.  The guy stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Jay, but everyone here calls me
Jay Bird
.  It’s a real pleasure, man.  Fully Automatic kicks ass.”

Ethan couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. 
That’s what I’m talking about.
  He shook Jay’s hand.  “Thanks.  I appreciate that.”  Ethan also couldn’t help giving the counselor a little smirk.  So, whether she really knew him or not, someone else did and had no problem showering him with the affection and attention he was used to getting. 

He noticed a couple of the younger women sit up straighter out of the corner of his eye, but the counselor still seemed thoroughly unimpressed.  He didn’t get that.  Even before he’d hit it big, he’d had no problems getting women’s attention. 
Hmm.  Maybe she was a lesbian.  That would explain it.  He didn’t get that vibe from her, though.  Still, he couldn’t help but look over at her and give her a look, one that let her know he felt like he’d bested her.

She didn’t even smile, but her expression at least seemed to soften somewhat.  She thanked everyone and then looked at the woman Olivia beside him…and
oh, fuck
.  Yeah…his charms had worked on
her
as well.  He couldn’t help the cocky smirk that spread over his face anyway.  God, it would be so tempting to just fuck every single woman in here.  That’d show her.  He had no doubt in his mind he could do that.

But then, as he heard Jenna begin to speak again, asking Olivia if she’d be able to pick up where she’d left off before Ethan had disrupted the session (she didn’t use those words, however), he felt a prick of something.  It was something he hadn’t felt in a long
time, and—instead of listening to Olivia talk—he dove inside himself.  He hadn’t been in there in too long, and it was a dark and scary place.  That smidgen of something felt a little like regret.  It felt like a conscience.  He’d been avoiding going there…all through rehab and even his first visit with Dr. Thomas.  All his life, he’d learned to lock it all out, because it was easier to deal with life that way, and when that box inside started to overflow with shit it could no longer contain…that’s when the booze and other things came in handy.  He was going to allow himself to open up again, though, or at least that’s what he’d told himself, but
goddamn
.  Just that little bitter slice of regret for being an unmitigated asshole tasted like shit, and he didn’t think he could do it.  Maybe he could just make the effort to change, to not consume anymore.  It could work.  He’d done it before.

Yeah, right. 
Just not successfully.  He closed his eyes as he heard Olivia continuing to talk.  This was gonna be the hardest thing he’d ever done, and he wondered if he’d have the strength to do it.

* * *

Olivia was a sweet soul, one who’d just let the world consume her.  She was a lot like the branches of an aspen tree.  She’d sway whatever way the wind blew, quaking and shivering but all the while obedient, bending wherever she had to so she could survive.  The woman had a history of latching on to the nearest tough guy and becoming a victim in short order.  With or without a man in the picture, Olivia had struggled with alcohol since she’d been a teenager.