The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough

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СКАЧАТЬ up with to describe it was wounded.

      Lillie closed her eyes and remembered how she’d gone through the well-rehearsed list of apologies he’d heard far too many times before. Promises that nothing like this would ever happen again. Claims that this time, this time, she’d get help. For the longest time, he’d just stared, grim-faced and slump-shouldered, then quietly ground out, “The guys have bills to pay, too, you know. When are you gonna realize your needs aren’t more important than everybody else’s?”

      “Say, Lillie,” Gabe said, breaking into her thoughts, “maybe you can help me make a tough decision. You know, since you understand things.”

      “I stink in the advice department.”

      He shrugged. “My older brother lives in Florida, too. It’s the main reason our mom moved down there. He owns a landscaping company. Offered me a job and a place to stay. You know, until I get on my feet.” Gabe paused. “But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’m godfather to his thirteen-year-old son, see, and not to toot my own horn, but the kid’s crazy about me.”

      Lillie thought of her brother’s twins, who’d once lit up at the sight of her, and wondered if Sam had told the girls that their beloved aunt was a drug addict.

      “You’re worried that if you spend too much time around your nephew, you’ll be a bad example?”

      “Bingo.”

      The bus merged with traffic on 28th Street, and Gabe shifted in his seat.

      “Your brother told your nephew...everything?”

      “That’s just it,” Gabe said. “I don’t know.”

      He looked as distraught as she felt. Disappointing people was tough. She’d certainly learned that the hard way.

      “Well, even if the boy knows, that’s not such a bad thing, is it? I mean, you made a mistake—”

      “Lots of mistakes.”

      “—but you made things right, and stayed clean for a long time. What better example can you set than that?”

      Who are you trying to convince, Lill? Gabe? Or yourself?

      “Maybe...” And then, “So how’d you get into, ah, trouble?” He held up his hand again. “If I’m poking my nose where it doesn’t belong, say the word.”

      Lillie reminded herself that this was the perfect opportunity to practice the difficult “I was a mess and I’m sorry” speech before she had to deliver it yet again...to Jase, the one person she hadn’t repaid. Yet.

      She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “A little over three years ago, my car was T-boned by a city bus.”

      “Holy smokes. How badly were you hurt?”

      Lillie stared at the jagged white scar that crossed the back of her right hand, and instinctively covered it with her left. “There were seven operations...” To repair her shattered left leg and arm, and the ribs that had punctured her lung. Even after all this time, nightmares about the impact still had the power to shake her from deep sleep.

      “Then I spent a month in an inpatient rehab center—the physical therapy kind—followed by months more of outpatient work.”

      “Holy smokes,” Gabe repeated. “That’s one brutal story.” He paused. “Did the transit system pay the medical bills?”

      “Yes, they were very accommodating.”

      “So the trouble started when your doctors put you on pain meds?”

      “More like when they decided I didn’t need them anymore.”

      “And?”

      Admittedly, the pain had been excruciating, making it next to impossible to climb to her second-floor apartment—especially when hauling groceries—or to stand onstage for hour-long intervals or sleep more than an hour at a time.

      “There were three doctors. My surgeon. My regular guy. And my shrink. Little did I know, they compared notes. And when they realized I was hooked on the meds, they cut me off.”

      “Harsh,” Gabe said. “Wouldn’t it have been better to wean you slowly?”

      “Maybe.” But given how totally dependent she’d grown, maybe not.

      “So you had to find other ways to cut the pain...”

      It should have been easy to admit. It wasn’t. And so Lillie said, “What about you?”

      Gabe shrugged. “Nothing as dramatic or understandable as a car wreck. No, I was the stereotypical spoiled brat with too much time on his hands and too much money in his pockets. Got in with the wrong crowd—although at the time they sure didn’t seem like the wrong crowd—and the rest is history.”

      It wasn’t unusual for recovering addicts to be tough on themselves. Unfortunately, the self-deprecating mindset, her counselors said, was responsible for more addicts relapsing than just about anything else.

      “Still,” she reminded him, “your mom inspired you to get help.”

      “She’s only half the reason. I watched a pal OD on crack.” He grimaced and his voice trailed off, a clear sign that he’d recalled a raw memory. “I got real serious about rehab after that.” He turned slightly. “So when you got off the prescription meds, what cut the pain?”

      “Hydrocodone, mostly.”

      “As in Watson-387?”

      “That, and half a dozen other types of pills supplied by my go-to guy.” Although she hadn’t touched drugs or alcohol since entering rehab, it shamed Lillie to admit that she’d washed down hydro, norco, vic, and more—with dry gin—and paid for it with money taken from those who cared most about her. Her sister and her husband. Her brother and his wife. Her parents. Her best friend. The guys in the band.

      It had been humiliating, facing each of them, stammering through clumsy apologies, voice quaking and hands shaking as she returned every dollar. Though she didn’t believe she’d earned their forgiveness, they’d been gracious, smiling as they told her to stay in touch and take care of herself. Had they meant it?

      She’d saved the toughest encounter for last. Jase...

      “Your friend,” Gabe began, “the one who hooked you up with the Rising Sun people...is he a boyfriend?”

      That inspired a smile. “No, Pete owns a pub in the Bronx. We met when my agent booked me to sing with his house band. I was barely eighteen, and he looked out for me.”

      “Like a big brother.”

      “Exactly.” Pete was the first person she’d turned to after that last night with Jase, when it became clear that she’d gotten completely out of control.

      “So—to quote my grandpa—you’re footloose and fancy-free?”

      Lillie had no idea how to answer him. Jase likely wouldn’t want anything СКАЧАТЬ