The Gritty Truth (The Whiskeys Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor #7) - Melissa Foster Page 0,114
but I’ve got to do this alone. I’m sorry, Tru. The last thing I ever wanted was to put you through this again.”
Truman shook his head, embracing Quincy again. “I love you, man, and I know going back to rehab feels like a step backward, but I’m so damn proud of you.”
The lump in Quincy’s throat expanded with Truman’s praise, and he held him tighter. “Thank you.” He released his brother and wiped his eyes. “Can you do me a favor? The police and that detective they called are waiting to question Roni about her accident. They agreed to let me talk to her first, so can you send her in? I’ll be with her when they question her, but we’ll need a ride home, if you don’t mind. They’re keeping me for an hour or two for observation, and then I’m out of here.”
“You bet.”
“And, Tru.” His brother lifted his chin. “One more thing. When I’m in rehab, can you look after her and Simone for me? The cops picked up Simone, and they said they’ll have eyes on her and Roni, but you know that isn’t enough.”
“Absolutely. She’s family, man. We’ve got her back.”
RONI PACED THE waiting room, trying to hold her shit together. If one more person told her that everything would be okay, she was going to scream. All of their friends were there; even Biggs and Red had come. The support Quincy had was insurmountable, but how could anything be okay? She’d seen the tubing.
She couldn’t even think about it.
He’d almost died.
Truman had explained on the way to the hospital that the EMTs gave Quincy something to counteract whatever drugs he’d used, which was good, but even though she’d seen the puncture wound in his arm, she still didn’t believe that Quincy would do drugs again. And the worst part was, she knew she was in denial. All of the literature had said not to take a relapse personally, but this wasn’t about her. Quincy using drugs was personal to him—and that’s what hurt so badly. That’s why she didn’t want to believe it. He was too invested in his recovery. Why would he relapse?
Red walked over and put a hand on Roni’s back. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”
Roni shook her head. “I just don’t believe it, Red. The battle going on in his head must be vicious. One side fighting to stay clean, the other giving in to the lure of drugs.” The words fell out so fast, she couldn’t stop her voice from escalating. “And where’s his truck? I heard two officers asking for him at the registration desk. Did he commit a crime? Was he carjacked? Did he even see Simone? Was she using again? Nobody will tell me anything!”
“Oh, baby girl.” Red put her arms around her, stroking her back as she cried on her shoulder. “All I know right now is that he never made it to the shelter, and they found his truck still running in the middle of the road in Parkvale.”
“I don’t understand any of this. I’d know if Quincy was in a bad place, even if he didn’t tell me. I’d sense it. I know I would.” Roni wiped her eyes as Truman came out through double doors, his shoulders rounded in his flannel shirt, his face a mask of pain. “Truman!” She ran to him. “How is he? What’s happening? Can I see him?”
“He’s good. He wants to see you. I’ll take you back.” He looked over her shoulder at Bullet and Diesel, and some sort of silent message passed between them that included a single nod and made the men stand taller, their hands fisting.
As Truman walked her through the emergency room, she said, “What was that? What were you saying to them?”
“It’s best if Quincy tells you.”
He opened the curtain, and she saw Quincy sitting on the edge of the hospital bed wringing his hands, a bruise and scratches streaking the side of his face. He lifted his grief-laden eyes, and tears flooded hers as she ran to him and threw her arms around him, sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” Quincy said, holding her tight. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She held him tighter, unable to speak through her sobs, anger, sadness, and confusion. She needed this—to be in his arms, to see that he was alive. His scruff scratched her cheek as he kissed it, and the familiar feel drove her heartache deeper. She clung to him until she got a handle on her sobs, at