Poison & Wine Read online

  “So.” Keira waits until I turn my focus back to her before continuing. “Everything okay? You sounded kind of weird on the phone earlier.”

  I’ve been going back and forth with what, if anything, I should tell Keira but I finally decide that I don’t want to hide this from her.

  “Jace is here,” I blurt, watching her eyes go wide.

  “Wait? As in here, here.” She points to the ground.

  I nod. “In the garage apartment.”

  “Oakley.” Her features turn hard.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. I’m just giving him a place to sleep for a couple nights.”

  “Why on earth would you ever think that was a good idea? Bringing him here, where Ellie is. Why would you do that? Why would you…”

  “His brother died,” I interrupt her rant, watching her features pale. “Last night, at the hospital. They brought him in unresponsive. Drug overdose. He died on the table.”

  “Oh god.” Her hand flattens over her chest.

  “Yeah. Jace was staying with him. Found him in the parking lot in his car. He’s in rough shape.”

  “I thought his brother was clean?”

  “He was. Had been for over a year. Not sure what happened.”

  “How awful.”

  “I was the one to tell him.” Tears fill my eyes as the memory washes to the surface. The way he collapsed in my arms, the pure agony that pulled at his features. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to erase that look from my memory for as long as I live.

  “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”

  Even though Keira has never actually met Jace, she knows everything about him. His family. His past. His addiction. Our relationship. Everything. In a lot of ways, she probably feels like she does know him.

  “That’s why he’s here. He didn’t want to go back to Tommy’s apartment and he had nowhere else to go.”

  “So he asked if he could stay with you?”

  “No,” I shake my head, “I offered. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Oakley, I get that you’re trying to help. But you have more to think about than Jace right now.” She points toward the house.

  “I know. Trust me, I know. I made him take a drug test before we left the hospital, and I made it very clear he’s not allowed to come to the house.”

  “That’s all well and good, but what if he sees Ellie? He may be an addict, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. If he does the math…”

  “He won’t see her,” I cut her off. “Besides, it’s just for a couple of days.”

  “You say that now.”

  “Keira, please. I know this probably seems crazy to you, but I could really use your support on this.”

  “And you have it. You know I trust you and I’ll always stand by you. But Oak, I really hope you know what you’re doing. And not just for your sake, but for Ellie’s as well.”

  “I know it was risky, bringing him here. But I couldn’t leave him alone. Not after he lost the only family he has left.”

  “You need to be careful. You’ve never seen clearly when it comes to him.”

  “I’m not the same naïve girl I used to be,” I remind her. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Well let’s hope for everyone’s sake you do.” She glances back up at the house. “You’re being summoned.” She gestures behind me.

  I turn to see Ellie in the doorway, her face pressed against the glass of the storm door.

  “Remind me again why I bother cleaning glass.” I chuckle.

  “Beats me.” Keira smiles and waves at Ellie.

  “Well I guess I should get inside and feed that girl. We’ll talk later?”

  “Yeah.” Kiera nods, turning toward her car. She pulls open the door before she looks back in my direction. “Are you going to tell Lance?” she asks. “About Jace being here?”

  “Honestly, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” I admit, realizing that throughout this entire ordeal, I hadn’t considered how Lance would feel about this even once.

  “Well, I think you should. Given everything, I feel like he has a right to know.” Without another word, she slides into the driver’s seat and closes the door.

  I consider her words. Sure, maybe telling Lance is the right thing to do under normal circumstances. But this is far from normal. I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing before I get anyone else involved.

  Blowing out a hard breath, I turn, climbing up onto the front porch before turning back to throw Keira a small wave as she backs out of the driveway.

  Chapter Eleven

  OAKLEY

  Six years ago

  * * *

  “Jace.” I peek my head into the treehouse. “You up here?” I ask, even though I’ve already spotted him lying on the floor, his hands tucked behind his head in their usual position.

  He doesn’t move as I climb the rest of the way into the rickety structure.

  “Jace,” I repeat, crawling over to him.

  He’s eerily still but I can hear his breathing as I settle in next to him.

  “Hey.” I gently shake his shoulder.

  He starts, his eyes popping open seconds before they come to me. They’re bloodshot. Too bloodshot. The bright blue color muted by the red streaks lining the whites of his eyes.

  “Hey,” he grumbles, his words slurred and uneven.

  “Are you drunk?” I ask, a little taken aback seeing how it’s only three in the afternoon.

  “What?” His forehead crinkles. “No, of course not.” He sits up and I follow suit, angling my body so that I’m facing the side of him.

  It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found him drunk over the last year. Not that it happens a lot, but it’s been more frequent as of late.

  “You sure?” I draw back, catching the smell of alcohol on his breath.

  “I mean, I may have had a drink or two at Rob’s, but I’m not drunk.” He forgets how well I know him.

  “A drink or two?” I question. “Is that why your eyes are so red I can barely see any white and you smell like the floor of a cheap bar?”

  “How do you know what the floor of a cheap bar smells like?” he challenges, trying to distract me. He’s always trying to distract me.

  Things have gotten strange over the last few months. Jace’s behavior has been erratic and unpredictable. I find myself questioning if he’s being honest with me about everything that’s going on in his life.

  I know he’s struggling. I know things with his dad are really bad. So bad that most nights he sleeps up here rather than going home. I’ve gotten into the habit of bringing him dinner every evening, though this last week he’s been more absent than he has present.

  “I’m guessing that’s what it would smell like,” I finally answer. “Are you okay?” I tack on, not waiting for him to comment.

  “Yeah.” He runs his hand through his messy, unwashed hair. “I’m fine.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  You would think after all this time Jace would realize I know when he’s lying.

  “Are you sure? You’ve been gone a lot lately. Jonas and Hopper said they haven’t seen you outside of school in weeks. And I saw your report card, Jace. You’re failing almost every class. What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing going on.” There’s a bite to his voice. “And how did you see my report card? Were you looking through my bag?”

  “I took your phone in the other night to charge it. When it was done I put it back in your bag. I saw your report card sitting there, and yeah, I looked at it. Since when do you care if I go through your bag?”

  “Maybe a little fucking privacy would be nice.”

  I draw back at his statement, emotion clawing its way into my chest.

  “We’ve never hidden things from each other before. Why does it matter all of a sudden now?” My chin quivers, but I fight back the tears that threaten to well behind my eyes.

  I’m not an overly emotional pers
on and I’m certainly not much of a crier, but with Jace? He can make me cry at the drop of a hat. Sometimes out of happiness. Other times out of frustration. And more often times than not, when he hurts my feelings.

  “It’s just… Fuck, Oak. Maybe I don’t need you policing me all the time.”

  “Policing you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “It sure as hell feels like it sometimes. I don’t need this. I don’t need you judging me.”

  “I’m not judging you.”

  “You have no idea what I’m going through right now.”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t. Because you won’t talk to me.” My voice breaks.

  “You just… You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me. Talk to me.” I reach out and grab his forearm. “Tell me what’s going on. Is it your dad? Did something else happen?”

  “It’s always my dad. It’s school. It’s my absentee brother. It’s my fucking life.”

  “Hey.” I scoot in closer. “I know things are bad right now. They’ve been bad for years. But we’ve gotten through them… Together. And we will continue to get through them together. We’re in our last year of school. Our last year, Jace. This is it. We get through this and we’re home free. We can leave this place and never look back. But I need to know that’s what you still want.”

  “Of course it’s what I want. Fuck, that’s all I want. To disappear with you. To leave all this fucking shit behind.”

  “Then focus on that. If you’re struggling in school, I’ll help you. Bring your work here with you after school every day and we will do it together. If you don’t want to go home, then don’t. Come here. If it’s too cold, I’ll sneak you into my room. We will get through this, Jace. You and me. The way it’s always been. But you can’t shut me out. You have to know by now that I’m never going to give up on you.”

  “I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you, Oakley.” A hint of a smile tugs at his lips.

  “I’ll always fight for you. Because I love you. You hear me?” I grip his chin between my thumb and index finger. “I love you, Jace Elliot Matthews. And there isn’t a thing you could do to make me feel differently.”

  “I love you too.” He pulls me into his lap, his arms going around my middle as my legs settle on either side of his. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for snipping at you. I’m sorry for being distant.”

  “You’ve got a lot going on.” I wrap my hands around the back of his neck. “And I get that things are hard. I do. But…”

  “I gotta cool it with the drinking. I know.” He blows out a breath.

  “I’m not trying to parent you. I just worry about you.”

  “I know. And I know I don’t always show it, but you being here for me, it means more than I could ever say. You are the only thing that keeps me going, Oakley. The only thing.”

  “Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.” I lean forward pressing my lips to his.

  I’m not sure what time it is. I feel like I’ve been laying here in Jace’s arms for only a few minutes, but given that the sun has gone down and the cool bite of the night air has settled around us, I’m gonna say it’s been a lot longer than that.

  I gently roll out of his embrace and fumble through the dark, looking for my clothes. Using the flashlight on my cell phone, I manage to get dressed without falling out of the treehouse and breaking my neck.

  Jace is fast asleep, his slow steady breathing filling the space around me.

  I rub my hands up and down my arms when a chill runs through me. It’s colder tonight than usual.

  Heading to the plastic tub in the corner, I peel it open and pull out a second sleeping bag, draping it over Jace.

  I hate that he sleeps out here. And even though he knows he can sleep in my room, I think he’s afraid my mom will find out and ground me for life. So, unless there’s really bad weather coming, nine times out of ten, this is where he ends up sleeping. We did finally get smart enough to rig up a tarp, giving us a makeshift roof. It isn’t much but it keeps the treehouse relatively dry when it rains. And there are plenty of blankets and pillows that we keep in storage tubs.

  Even still, I wish he had another option. Other family. Anything to get him out of his dad’s house. A seventeen-year-old should not be afraid to walk into his own home. No child should.

  Thankfully, his father is a creature of habit so Jace knows exactly when he can slip inside, eat, shower, get clothes, and get out of there before his dad comes home. That’s not to say that strategy is always successful, but more often times than not it works out.

  Another chill runs through me and I bend down, grabbing Jace’s sweatshirt off the floor. Sliding it over my head, I slip my free hand into the middle pocket, finding a pill bottle inside.

  Confused, I pull it out and train the flashlight of my phone on the bottle.

  Oxycodone. Prescribed to someone by the name of Beverly Turnip.

  I roll the bottle around in my hand, my gaze going from a sleeping Jace to the pills and back again.

  Why would he have someone else’s prescription? Is he taking them? Is this why he’s been off lately? Because he’s using drugs?

  A million questions swirl in my mind.

  I’m not stupid. I know that a lot of kids in our school buy and sell their relatives’ pain medication. I also know of at least three dealers in our senior class who deal a lot more than just prescription pills. But Jace being caught up in that? I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound right.

  He's never used drugs that I’ve ever been aware of and certainly never in front of me. We’ve gone to parties and he’s never even smoked marijuana. Cigarettes, yes. Alcohol, sure, sometimes more than he should. But never drugs. Which only deepens my confusion.

  Has he been using?

  What other drugs is he doing or is it just the pain pills?

  Is this what he’s been keeping from me?

  My stomach churns with the thought.

  A part of me is tempted to wake him up and demand to know what he’s doing with these pills. But the rational part of me knows that would do more harm than good.

  So instead, I slip the pills into the pocket of my jeans and decide to wait it out. Maybe he’s holding them for a friend. Maybe he’s a go between. Either way, when he wakes up tomorrow and sees that they’re gone, he’ll have two options. Pretend like he doesn’t notice or ask me where they are. Either way, his reaction will tell me a lot.

  I know Jace. Sometimes I think I know him better than I know myself. He’s a shit liar and when he’s trying to cover something up, he always gets defensive. It’s his telltale. Which is why I suspected something else was going on tonight when he got so standoffish with me.

  Turns out I was right.

  Now the real question is, just how far down the rabbit hole does this thing go?

  I know that addiction runs in his family. His dad is an alcoholic who uses cocaine regularly. His brother, last we heard, was strung out living on the streets somewhere. And his mom? Well, she must have something going on with her to up and abandon her two children the way she did.

  I have every right to be worried. But I also have to remind myself that Jace is nothing like his family.

  He’s sweet, caring, and generous. He’s fun and adventurous. And when he laughs? My god the sound lights up an entire room.

  He’s nothing like any of them, I remind myself again. Praying like hell that I actually know Jace as well as I think I do.

  Chapter Twelve

  OAKLEY

  * * *

  I lift my hand and knock on the door of the garage apartment. The pit in my stomach that I woke up with grows deeper with each second that passes.

  I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned, fading in and out of dreams – or rather memories – of Jace.

  The first night I realized he was using drugs. How quickly things escalated. How within a matter of months he went from being someone I knew so well to practically being a complete stranger
.

  I thought I knew what he was and was not capable of. I quickly learned that even the people we know the best can surprise us.

  “Jace.” I turn the knob, thankful that it opens and isn’t locked.

  I peer my head inside, finding Jace sitting upright in bed.

  Relief instantly floods through me.

  “You’re still here.” I push the door the rest of the way open and step inside.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t be?” he asks, his features worn and tired.

  “I just…”

  “You thought I was going to sneak out and go get a fix.” He hits the nail right on the head. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” I say, pushing the door closed before crossing to the small kitchen. “I brought you some stuff.” I say, setting the plate of food on the counter before slipping the plastic bag off my wrist and laying it next to it. “It’s not much. Just some extra stuff I had in the house. Shampoo, soap, a new toothbrush, and some toothpaste. I also brought you some spaghetti I had left over from dinner yesterday. You can use the microwave to heat it up.” I gesture to the small appliance that sits on the far side of the counter next to the refrigerator.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” He throws back the covers and climbs out of bed, his navy-blue tee wrinkled and his short hair sticking up in every direction.

  “I know. But I thought maybe some food and a shower would help.” I hesitate when he crosses the space toward me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’m stuck in some fucked up nightmare,” he admits, scratching the scruff on his chin. “I still…” His voice cracks. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jace.”

  I hate that I don’t know what to say. That I have no words that will make this better for him.

  “I’ve been sitting here all day wondering what I could have done differently. What I should have done.”

  “You can’t do that to yourself. Tommy made his own choice.”