Broken kingdom

Chapter 46 Bianca

I bang on his door. “Let me in, Oakley.” 

I know he’s home because I saw his motorcycle in the parking lot. 

“Please,” I implore. “You don’t even have to talk, just let me in so I can be with you.” 

I press my forehead to the wood of the door. “Don’t make me beg.” Desperation flickers in my chest and I try again. “Dammit. If you ever fucking cared about me, you’ll—”

Finally, the door swings open. 

Oakley looks so out of sorts, so dejected, my heart breaks. 

And that’s when I spot the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on his coffee table. 

Fuck. 

I knew it would be hard for him to hear what happened to Hayley, but it never crossed my mind that it would trigger a relapse. 

“I was high the first time we had sex,” he says, discernibly lost in deep thought. “I didn’t even remember it. I just remember her telling me it was her first time after.” He plops down on the futon. “And the first time she told me she loved me…I panicked.” His eyes close. “Because all I could think about was how bad she was in bed and that I needed to end things before she got even more attached to me.” 

I know how much regret and guilt can twist a person up inside and I want nothing more than to take his pain away. 

I go to touch him, but he pulls away. “Oakley.”

“And now she’s dead.” Reaching over, he grabs the bottle. “Because of me.” 

I place my hand over his. “This won’t fix it.”

“You’re right.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “But it will help me go numb, so I don’t have to feel this fucking shit anymore.” 

“You can’t stay drunk and high your whole life,” I remind him. “Sooner or later you’ll be sober…and the pain will still be there.” I draw in a painful breath. “But so will the people who love you.” Reaching up, I cup his cheek. “So, before you take that first drink and throw everything you’ve worked so hard for away…trust me enough to get you through this. Because I love you, Oakley, and that means you won’t ever have to fight your demons alone.” 

I’ll fight them with him, for him, and beside him. 

Whatever it takes. 

He’s still staring at the bottle of unopened whiskey on his coffee table when there’s a knock on the door. 

I ended up texting Dylan and asking her to come over…along with Oakley’s dad. 

I figured the more support Oakley has right now, the better. 

His father doesn’t look happy to see me on the other side of the door. “What’s going on?” He bounces a sleepy C.J. in his arms. “Dylan told me I needed to come over right away.” 

As if on cue, Dylan treks up the stairs. “What’s wrong?” 

Closing the front door behind me, I whisper, “Oakley’s sitting inside with a bottle of whiskey.” 

“What?” Dylan hisses. 

Mr. Zelenka’s disappointment is tangible. “Dammit.” 

“He didn’t open it…yet,” I inform them. “But he heard some really bad news and he’s having a hard time digesting it.” 

Mr. Zelenka gives me a look. “What kind of bad news?”

Given I might need a lawyer, he’s not the worst person to tell. However, now isn’t the time. “I’ll tell you later.” I open the front door. “Right now, let’s focus on Oakley.” 

Oakley shoots me a look of a

I let his animosity roll off my back because I know I did the right thing. “Yes, I did.” I take a seat next to him on the futon. “Because we all love you, and we’re go

Dylan plops down on the other side of him. “What she said.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze. “You can’t get rid of me, butthead. I’m like a hemorrhoid that won’t ever go away.” 

At that lovely visual, Oakley snorts. 

Oakley’s dad sets up a blanket on the floor for C.J. to sleep on, but she wakes up the moment he lays her down. 

Her sleepy gaze roams around the room, stopping on her big brother. “Uh-oh.” 

Oakley melts like butter in the sun. 

A moment later he’s scooping her into his arms. 

“Hey, pipsqueak. What are you doing up past your bedtime?” 

She giggles. 

Oakley’s father, however, doesn’t. “I dropped everything and came right over.” 

Oakley’s jaw tightens. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

His father holds his gaze. “Yes, I did.” 

Fortunately, C.J. breaks the tension by grabbing Oakley’s cheeks and blowing raspberries in his face. “Love, Uh-oh.” 

Yeah, she does. 

We all do. 

It’s almost two in the morning by the time Dylan and Mr. Zelenka leave. 

I’m stifling a yawn as I drain the bottle of Jack down Oakley’s sink. 

Oakley joins me in the kitchen. “You know what’s weird?” 

I toss the empty bottle in his trash. “What?” 

“I don’t know what enjoying a single glass of alcohol even means. I hear people talk about it all the time, like it’s normal.” He leans against the counter. “But I always need the excess to drown it out.” A hefty sigh escapes him. “And pretty soon one glass leads to ten, which leads to a few lines of coke, which leads to popping some pills. But I didn’t think I was an addict like my mom…I thought I had the shit under control.” His eyes meet mine. “But I don’t, because it was controlling me. It’s still controlling me.”

“That’s because you have a disease,” I point out. 

 “I wish I didn’t.” 

I tell him the cold-hard truth. “There might not be a cure, but you can manage it. You just have to want it bad enough. You have to fight for your sobriety and make it the first priority in your life. And you have to surround yourself with people who love and support you.” 

“You mean the people I’m constantly disappointing because I fuck shit up.” 

“No one was disappointed tonight.” 

We were relieved. 

Because the old Oakley would have given in. 

And even though temptation was sitting right in front of him, summoning him to fall down the rabbit hole, and he could have listened…he didn’t. 

He let me in instead of going to the dark side. 

Just like I did with him. 

Once upon a time, I built walls up to keep people out…

But now I’m realizing those same walls also kept out my happiness. 

The ability to trust and love people. 

Including my own family. 

I will always love my mother and wish she was here…but I’m tired of keeping her secrets. 

I want to be free.