The Mighty Storm
Page 54

I love sexy arrogant Jake. Not, ‘I’m king of the world drug taking’ arrogant Jake.
“So why all of this … hang on – was this some sort of damn test? The story’s already buried isn’t it?” I ball my hands into fists at my sides.
Jake says nothing, just stares steadily back at me.
“Why couldn’t you just talk to me properly about this instead of all the theatrics?”
His face laces with anger again. “How the hell do you think I felt seeing these photos, Tru?” He jabs a finger in the direction of them. “And then you side with him just like I knew you would!”
“Side with him? We’re not in school here!” Then I pause, collecting myself, realising the yelling is getting us nowhere.
“Jake, I’m not siding with Will,” I say in calmer voice. “I know it must have been a shock for you seeing them like that, but please just try to see reason here, those photos are not what you thought they were. And I get it, this issue you have with Will, I do, but you have to let it go now and trust me. He was the one wronged here, not us.” I take a step closer to him. “I’m with you. I’ll always be with you. I’m not a cheater, as ironic as that sounds. I only did, what I did to Will, with you, because it was you, Jake. Because of how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. I have loved you my whole life. You must know that. Yes, I handled it all so very badly, but I promise you, I will never hurt you like I did Will.”
His eyes scan my face. “I just need to know if anything happened with Will when you saw him?”
Am I talking to myself?
“No.” I’m trying to stay calm, I really am, but I’m struggling at the moment.
“Just the thought of you with him.” He drags his hands through his hair, looking agonised. “When were you going to tell me that you were sleeping with him again? Were you ever going to tell me?”
Apparently, I am talking to myself.
“Argghh! Never!” I snap, my head finally popping. “Because there is nothing to tell! I saw Will on the day you flew over to London after your dad had died. I’d gone into work in the morning to see Vicky before you were due to arrive. When I left the building, I bumped into Will outside. He’d seen me go in work and waited for me to leave. He just wanted to talk to me. I thought it was the least I could do after what I’d done to him. We went to Callo’s for a coffee. We talked. I cried. He held my hand because I was sad that I’d hurt him. It was good of him after what I’d done. We left Callo’s. He hugged me goodbye outside. And then we went our separate ways and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Jake is staring at me, but it’s like he’s seeing through me. His pupils are wide and dilated, and I’m wondering if he just heard a word I said.
“So why didn’t you just tell me you’d seen him that day?” His voice sounds a little calmer.
I almost exhale with relief that my words are finally sinking in and this conversation is seemingly nearly over with. The downside – next I have to broach the subject of his very apparent drug use.
“Because your dad had just died and I knew it would upset and stress you out. You don’t see straight when it comes to Will, baby. I was going to tell you when things had calmed down, but then the story hit the news about your dad … what happened that night and there’s just never been a right time since.”
Because you’re using drugs again.
His face darkens. “So you just thought you’d keep lying to me instead?!”
Here we go again. He’s up and down like a goddamn yoyo, and I am so absolutely done with his crap.
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Don’t you dare, Jake, don’t you bloody dare,” I point an angry finger at him.
“What? I’ve never lied to you.”
“Um no? Sorry, just when exactly was it you told me that you’d started using drugs again?”
He stares evenly at me. “I’m not using.” He frowns. Then he rubs his nose.
“Sure you’re not. So let me get this straight.” I press my fingertips to my forehead. “It’s not okay for me to hold something back – like having a coffee with Will, to try and spare your feelings at a terrible point in your life, but it is okay for you to break promises and lie to me about using drugs. Good to know how we roll Jake,” I add sarcastically.
“I’m not using drugs.” He frowns again, and little crease forms between his brows.
I lean back against the table and fold my arms across my chest. “Please don’t insult me. I know.”
“You don’t know anything because I’m not using.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I cry, staring him down, as I straighten up. “I want to know when it started and exactly what it is you’re using?”
“I’m not–”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I yell. “I’m not stupid!”
“Yeah like I’m not stupid about what’s been going on behind my back with you and Will.”
I laugh. I actually laugh at his audacity. “Don’t try turning this back on me because it’s not going to wash. Tell me what you’re using? If you don’t, I’m walking out that door and I’m never coming back.” I ensure to keep my voice steady to let him know I mean it.
He lets out a light sigh. Stepping back, he leans up against the wall and pushes his hands through his hair.
“Just a bit of coke,” he says evenly, shrugging.
Even though I knew, it still pains me to hear. And I feel a corner of my heart chip away.
“Oh no, Jake,” I shake my head despairing. “What were you thinking?”
“I’ve got it under control.”
“You know for smart successful guy – you are a complete bloody idiot at times!”
“Tru…”
“No, Jake, seriously this isn’t right. Where are they?” My eyes are scanning the room.
“What?”
“The drugs, Jake! Where are they?”
“There isn’t any here.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
I start moving around the room, tossing cushions, pulling drawers out, searching the room like a woman possessed.
Where would an addict keep their drugs? Think, Tru. Think.
Then I remember him being in the bathroom this morning, and it clicks with something I saw in a film once.
I rush into the bedroom and head straight toward the ensuite bathroom. Jake is fast on his feet behind me, and that’s when I know I’m heading to the right place.
I beat him there, and pull the lid off the cistern. And there it is, sitting on top of a pipe.
A small bag of white powder.
Cocaine, I’m guessing.
Picking it up, holding it between my fingers, I turn to him.
His face is ashen.
My whole body is shaking with anger and fear. Fear mostly.
I hold the bag of cocaine up in front of me. “How long?”
He looks down, away from me.
“How long have you been back using? Or did you never stop? Have you been on this crap the whole time we’ve been back in each other’s lives?”
His eyes snap up to mine. “No. When I said I was clean I was telling you the truth.”
“So when?”
“I took my first hit in Chicago.”
I gasp. “The first show of the tour?” My words come out tinny and small.
Even though I had thought this to be the case, it’s still just so hard to hear.
“Why?” my voice wobbles. My throat is thick with tears.
He shakes his head, shrugging. “I was just on edge and … I needed something to take it off to get me through the show. It’s not a big deal, Tru.”
“Not a big deal?! Are you being bloody serious?!” I expostulate.
“I’m not addicted,” he shakes his head
“How many times have you used since Chicago?”
He shifts on his feet. Not meeting my eyes, he says, “Once, twice – max.”
He’s lying. Fear starts to spread through me like weaving spider webs.
“How. Many. Times?”
He sighs and leans back against the tiled wall. “Does it matter?”
“I’ll take that to be every day then.”
He doesn’t argue the fact, so I get my answer. And my blood runs cold.
He’s been high for the last two weeks straight. High when we’ve eaten dinner together. Watched TV together. Every time he’s kissed me. Made love to me. He’s had this crap in his body.
It tarnishes it all.
I feel lied to and cheated, and so very angry and it just all suddenly bursts right out of me.
“I can’t believe this, Jake! You promised me you would never get back on this crap! Back at Lumb Falls you promised!”
“Yeah, well things change.” His voice is low and cold, and he doesn’t sound like the Jake I know.
The Jake I love.
Tears are squeezing at my eyes. Feeling suddenly lost and adrift, I lower my hand which is still holding the little bag of cocaine.
I see Jake’s eyes follow it down like his life depends on it.
Disappointment, and an ache so raw, courses through me and I fear it will tear me right open.
I’m losing the man I love to this trash in my hand, and I have no clue how to stop it from happening.
“Look it’s not a big deal,” he says. His voice has changed again, it’s gentle, his expression softened. “I just take a little bit to get me through the day that’s all. It’s nothing for you to worry about, baby.”
“You shouldn’t need this crap to get you through the day at all,” I whisper, my voice breaking over the words. “It’s not right, Jake. You know this. You’ve been here before.”
“I’m not addicted. I’ve got it under control this time.”
“And that’s exactly what an addict would say.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from bursting into tears. “Just like the addict who pissed on stage in front of thousands of people … like the addict who nearly drowned.”
His eyes narrow. His jaw is clenched, I can see it working under his skin.
I know he’s trying to hold his anger in. For now.
“That was different.” His voice is measured, even. “I wasn’t in control then. I’m in control now – and I didn’t have you then, baby.” He tries to step near me, but I hold my hand up stopping him.
“You have me now, but you’re still using this crap. That doesn’t stick, Jake. That’s not a well formed reason you have there. I don’t think this is different to the last time at all. I think you’ll end up right back where you were, floating face down in a goddamn swimming pool dead if you keep up with this!”
His gaze practically tears through me. I know that was harsh but I need to shock some sense into him.
“I know things are hard for you at the moment. I know you’ve been struggling since your dad died, and the story getting out about that night – what he did to you, and I know you’re under pressure with the tour and–”