I hear the door open behind me but I don't bother to turn around. When Tank sits next to me on the couch, he doesn't say anything. I knew he'd find his way here eventually.
"What happened?"
"Mom didn't tell you?"
"I asked her not to. I figured it might be something that you wanted to keep private. I'm asking you directly so you can decide if you want to tell me or not."
That surprises me. My mom hasn't been particularly good at keeping secrets in the past. But I know this is Tank's way of supporting me. And I know he'll be here to help me however I need him to, whether I tell him what happened or not.
"Short version, I fucked it up."
He nods. "Okay, so how are you going to fix it?"
One of the best things about Tank is that he likes to get right to the point. He doesn't really need a lot of details just goes right to solutions. I also know that if I need him to, he'll sit here with me all night patiently waiting until I'm ready to confide in him. Silence doesn't bother him at all. He uses the time to watch and collect information that might prove useful. It's what made him such a great sniper.
"I'm going to ask for help." Before I can change my mind or doubts can make me second-guess myself, I extend my hand toward him and uncurl my fingers. The mess of pills sits in my palm, sweaty from being squeezed in my hand for so long. "Don't let me fuck up anything else, Tank."
He stares at my outstretched hand and then his big hand covers mine, pulling the pills from my grasp. He stands and then disappears from view.
"Are you flushing them?"
He comes back with a plastic trash bag. "I can't do that. Emma has lectured me too many times about how you aren't supposed to flush certain things because it'll get into the water table."
"You are so whipped."
"Hell yeah, I am." He takes his hand and sweeps all the pill bottles on the table into the bag and then ties it closed. "I'm not going to dispose of all these bottles yet. Just in case your doctor wants you to wean off of them. But I'll keep them with me. I'll come over and give them to you when you need them."
"Okay." My eyes follow the bag until he stuffs it into the corner of the couch behind him and out of sight.
When he speaks again, his voice is just as shaky as mine. "All this time, I thought it was Mom. Her pills disappeared so fast and all she would say was that she was misplacing them."
He looks up at me and his eyes are suspiciously bright. It takes a lot to bring out emotion in my big brother but I can see that he's fighting for control. Shame washes over me again.
"I'm sorry. I've let all of you down. And I let you think that our mother was abusing her pills rather than tell you the truth."
His eyes remain on mine as he claps a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay. I promise." He pulls me in for a hug and for a moment, I just allow him to prop me up.
Because I haven't been doing such a great job at that on my own.
After I feel calm enough to speak without crying like a baby, I pull back. "I booked a stay at a private clinic already. Can you drive me over there?"
"Done. Anything you need, you know I've got your back."
"Anything? Because there's someone who has been bothering Rissa lately. I might want us to take a little detour before you drop me off."
His eyes gleam in the semi-darkness. Then he smiles.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RISSA
Daphne bursts into my office. "Did you hear? It's all over the news!"
I look up from my computer. "No, what's going on?"
"TMZ is reporting that Andrew Carrington was attacked over the weekend. Apparently some random thugs beat him up and then stuffed him in a dumpster. But he refuses to identify who did it to the police."
I turn back to my laptop and then pull up a search engine. A few seconds later I have the gossip site up on my screen. I gasp at the pictures of Andy's bruised and bloody face.