“So sorry,” I whispered.
“I know you are, but that doesn’t change anything. You need help. I just hope you can see that now.”
I tried to respond, but the doctor decided to walk into the room at that moment.
“Good evening, Mr. Allen. I’m Dr. Brooks, and I’ve been overseeing your treatment since you were admitted the other morning.”
I nodded, not wanting to cause myself any more pain than I had to.
“By now, I’m sure you know you’re here because you overdosed on cocaine. I can’t stress enough how serious your overdose was. Between the amount of cocaine found in your system and the alcohol you ingested, you are lucky to be alive. If your friends hadn’t found you and acted as quickly as they did, you wouldn’t be here. You owe them a debt of gratitude.”
“How long?” I managed to get out.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
I nodded. My sense of time was completely screwed-up, and I couldn’t even begin to figure out what day it was.
“You were checked in almost two days ago. Your symptoms were vomiting, rapid heart rate, fever, and convulsions. After your friends told me that you were an addict, we were able to treat you quickly enough to prevent any long-term effects.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Allen. I sincerely hope that this will serve as a much needed wake-up call. You should not mess around with cocaine, and you obviously need help. I want to keep you here for a few more days just to make sure you have no other issues. I suggest you take this time to consider your treatment options. Now that you’re conscious, you will feel the withdrawal side effects from not using cocaine for a couple of days. Our staff can help you deal with them as you detox. After that, I suggest you check yourself into a rehabilitation center.”
Before waking up in the hospital like this, I would have refused. I wasn’t so sure now. I always felt like I had everything under control, but that was obviously a huge misconception on my part.
“I’ll leave you alone with your friends now. I’m sure they have a lot they’d like to say to you.”
He exchanged a look with my band mates before he left. They had obviously had discussions about me while I was unconscious.
Eric approached my bed and sat down in the chair beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
He smiled at me, but there was no humor in his eyes. “I would assume so. You scared the shit out of us, Drake. We thought you were dead.”
“Sorry.”
“We know you are, but like Jade said, it doesn’t change anything. We’ve been talking about your situation, and Brad has also put in his two cents. Here’s the deal—either you get help, or our contract with the label is gone. As much as I hate to do it, you will no longer be a part of the band. We’re not doing this because we’re assholes. We’re doing it because we care.”
This was it. I was going to lose everything. I’d already lost Chloe, and now, I was losing my friends and my career, too.
Jade grabbed my hand and held it in hers. “Don’t try to talk right now. Just think about it. We can’t force you to get help, but we’re asking as your friends and your band members. I love you, but I can’t stand to watch you self-destruct any longer.”
“I’m with them. You’re not our Drake anymore,” Adam added as he sat down in the chair across the room from us. “I’m not going to get all mushy and tell you how much I love you, but you know you’re like a brother to me. You need help, bro.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“Good. We’ll leave you alone to think about things while we go grab some dinner. We’ll be back soon, okay?” Jade said.
I nodded, and they walked out of the room. When I was finally alone, everything hit me at once. In the last few months, I’d destroyed every relationship that I cared about. I’d pushed Chloe away first and then the band. Besides my uncle, they were the only family I had. I wasn’t ready to give them up, but I wasn’t sure I could stop using either. If I couldn’t, I’d lose everything. Surely, that would be enough motivation to keep me going, wouldn’t it? I wasn’t ready to face my demons, but I had to try.
As I lay there, fighting with myself, the nurse walked into the room with a tray.
“I brought you some soup. I’m sure your throat is raw from the breathing tube we had to put in during the first few hours you were here, but this should help.” She set the tray on a cart and pulled it over to me.
I felt like an invalid as she helped me sit up. My hands were shaking as I picked up my spoon and dipped it into the soup in front of me. I cursed to myself when I dropped the spoon and had to start over. My muscles felt weak, and I wasn’t sure I could even bring the spoon up to my mouth. After a few tries, I finally managed it. The soup hurt like hell as it went down, but I kept eating anyway. The nurse had to help me after a while, and I wanted to scream. I couldn’t even lift a damn spoon. I’d really fucked myself up this time.
“Don’t get discouraged. Your body is starting the withdrawal process, so shaking and muscle weakness is normal. It’s going to be rough for the next few days, but if you can make it through, you will be just fine.”
I nodded as she continued to spoon-feed me.
“I know it seems impossible right now, but you can beat this, Mr. Allen. Your friends have told me all about you, and it sounds like you are a strong-willed individual. You can do this.” She picked up the tray with the now empty bowl on it.
I wasn’t sure why she was giving me a pep talk, but I appreciated it.
Jade and the guys came back a couple of hours later. I gave them a weak smile as they sat down around me.
“Hey,” I said in a clear voice. The soup had really helped my throat. At least it didn’t feel like I’d eaten a sword when I talked now.
“Did you think things over?” Jade asked, getting right to the point.
I nodded. “I did.”
“And?” Eric asked.
“I need help.” It almost killed me to admit that, but I knew it was true. There was nothing like waking up in a hospital to knock some sense into me.
“Finally!” Jade shouted as she threw herself at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh as she held me in a death grip.
Eric smiled at me. “I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be with you the whole way.”
“It’s about damn time.” Adam muttered.
I looked at all three of them and prayed that I would be strong enough to do this. I needed help, and I was going to get it.
6
Over the next few days, I learned exactly what hell felt like. Now that I was conscious, my body demanded that I find my next fix. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to hold myself back from running out of the hospital to go to my hotel room where my stash was waiting for me. It was quite possibly the cruelest punishment I had ever known.
My body was going nuts, trying to deal with the fact that it was no longer getting its needed daily dose of cocaine. Even though the nurses had tried to prepare me, I was knocked on my ass by the muscle spasms, nausea, vomiting, and all the other things that came with withdrawal. I felt like I had the flu, but this particular flu had decided to take steroids and beef up a bit.
Over the next couple days, the physical symptoms were still horrible, but the mental side of things became almost unbearable. I was at war with myself. Part of me was fighting this with everything it had, but the other part was on its knees, begging and pleading with me to cave. All of the feelings—the guilt, the anger, the pain—that I’d suppressed with the cocaine were coming to the surface. I couldn’t help but be depressed. Without the cocaine to make me feel like everything was going to be okay, I realized just how fucked-up my life was.