Nobody Knows (Razes Hell 1)

“This isn’t as bad as it looks. The coke was offered to me at the club last night. I told the bloke no, but he practically had it lined up for me. Said it was a freebie for a rock star, and I should stay in touch if I wanted some more. I didn’t use any of it, I swear. I left the club straight away and came back here.” He wiped his palms on his jeans, his body rocking back and forth.

Right there. The problem with fame. Until Drew’s television appearance, when he unleashed all Jason’s secrets, nobody knew of his drug addiction. Stories about celebrities being given freebies weren’t exactly unusual, and Jason’s past made him way too easy a target for dealers.

“Why did you keep it?” I asked, not letting my focus waver from him. “Why didn’t you flush it?”

He closed his eyes. “I wanted it. I wanted it bad. I never had any intention of snorting a single line, but when I tried to get rid of it... I couldn’t.”

I glared at him. “Dammit, Jason! After all this time? After all you went through to get off it? This is so bloody typical of you. The spotlight leaves you for five minutes, and you do this!”

“Do you seriously think I planned for you to see this? Jesus, you sound like Drew already! He thinks I’m a narcissistic prick but I’m not, and I’m not an idiot. The last thing I need is you on my case about cocaine I wasn’t going to use!”

“So you weren’t planning to use it, just keep it forever as a weird symbol of your willpower?”

“I don’t know!” Jason threw himself backwards on the bed, his head landing close enough to my feet that I could kick some sense into him – if I were a violent person. I’d already hurt him, suggesting he did this for attention. It was a Drew-like thing to say, but in the moment, I’d been unable to censor my words before they flew out. Jason didn’t need to seek out attention, it naturally found him, and he would never have been stupid enough to plant drugs on himself as a way to point the spotlight back to him. He wasn’t that desperate for publicity.

“You have to throw it away. Now.”

“I know. I know.”

Silently, I watched as he breathed deeply. His hair splayed all around him, and angry as I was that he’d crossed a dangerous line, I felt his despair. He wasn’t lying when he told me he wasn’t going to use, or at least, he didn’t intend to. But the lure of cocaine still had a grip on him, even after two years clean.

“I’ll never go back down that road again, Ellie. But... I need you to help me right now.”

“What can I do?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Drew.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t ask me to-”

“Ellie, please.” Jason sat up, pulling his legs onto the bed. “He can’t find out about this.”

I would have been slightly less concerned about lying to Drew if we were still just friends. Or maybe not. Since our relationship had changed, the not getting in the middle thing was much harder.

Bloody hell.

Drew is already struggling with everything Jason did before. If he finds out Jason has drugs right now, he’ll never forgive him. If we get rid of the cocaine immediately, it’ll be done.

Except, you’ll have lied.

“Don’t,” I stood up. “Don’t give me the beggy eyes. We just argued about how messed up everything gets because of lies, and now you want me to do it again?”

I squeezed the wrap of cocaine between my fingers, hoping I could make it vanish along with every other nightmare that had happened since I woke up.

“Please,” Jason said.

“I believe you didn’t intend to use this. But now the temptation is back-”

“It never goes away, Ellie. It’s better. Easier every day. But it never goes away. On the rough days, there’s still a voice in my head telling me I can make all my problems go away with a quick fix. Last night was the worst I’ve felt in a long time, and that dealer put the solution right in my hands.” Again, he paused to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I could feel it. The buzz. I knew how good it would feel to take the hit and forget everything, and I hated myself for it. For being so fucking weak, because you’re right, Ellie. It’s been two years. It should be over.”

I used to know this. When Jason first spiralled out of control, I learned everything I could about cocaine addiction. I spent hours trawling the internet to soak up every bit of information. I knew the risks, the withdrawal process, I learned about triggers, and I understood there wasn’t an end. I sobbed while reading some of the most heart-breaking stories, not knowing if one day Jason would end up the same way. Another sad story, leaving behind a grieving family and friends to ask themselves what they could have done to change the ending.

Time had healed the physical wou

nds Jason inflicted on me, but locked away in a corner of my mind, I remembered every detail. Sometimes I could still hear the smack of his hand hitting my face, and feel the agonising realisation that everything I did, all the time I’d spent learning ways to help him were for nothing because I couldn’t help. Not then.

“You couldn’t flush it,” I said, my voice trembling. “That’s the part I’m worried about.”

He turned to look me in the eye. “If ever there was a time I needed it, last night was it. The morning after, the coke’s still all wrapped up. Doesn’t that count for something?” Jason stood in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I’ve messed everything up, but I’ve never needed your help more. Please, help me get rid of this and don’t tell Drew. Please.”