Sex Junkie(8)
“You know I would’ve gone to the end of the earth for you,” Grant told her. “At least I would’ve at one time.”
Eyes as pretty as deep green emeralds filled with sadness. As quickly as they flashed with sorrow, they turned as cold as ice. Straightening her shoulders, she said, “Lucky for you, I didn’t need you to meet me halfway, right?”
“Morgan, he didn’t mean—”
“Yes I did,” Grant interrupted him. “Let me tell you what I think, Morgan. I believe you’re here because you’re broke, desperate, and running from a thug who plans to bury you. That is after he gets his money. I’m a betting man. I’m gonna jump out here and place a nice wager on the possibility he believes you’ll come home, pitch this spiel to Kit and Kemper, and go back to Memphis with the money you owe him.”
“That’s not true.”
“I think it is.”
“That’s enough, Grant.”
“The hell it is. She told me her story. Now she can listen to mine.”
* * * *
Grant lost a brother to drugs. He wasn’t about to let Kit and Kemper lose a sister. He thought too much of the friends he’d known since the first grade. Now that they had a chance to help her, he planned to save her, and he wouldn’t dance around his intentions. He wanted Morgan to know precisely how things would play out.
Morgan should’ve anticipated an intervention from the moment they walked into the Keesling kitchen.
“You know, my brother Scott died.”
“I heard,” Morgan said. “I’m sorry, Grant.”
“Who told you?”
“I saw Mary Margaret down at the corner market when I first got into town.”
“He’s been in the grave three years. It’s been hard, unbearable at times. I could’ve saved him, but I expected him to save himself.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Morgan said regretfully.
“Sure it is,” Grant agreed. “And that’s why Blake and I will help you. You’ll lean on us, but we’re only offering our assistance with conditions. You’ll agree to do things on our terms.”
She didn’t interrupt him, but she acted like she was going to say something before she settled against the wooden back of the large swing. She started swaying with the furniture, gliding forward, drifting back.
“We’re gonna love you into sobriety,” Grant explained.
“What?”
“Love you into sobriety. And Morgan, you really don’t have a choice in the matter now. You’ve been clean five days? So what? If this Kilo character comes here and sees you doing well, he’ll hand you the needle and give you your final dose. Is that what you want?”
“I didn’t ask for your help. I don’t need it.”
“Well, you happen to be at our mercy. Scott lost his battle with drugs. I don’t want you to do the same, Morgan. Maybe you didn’t ask me to help you but I don’t need your consent. I’d like to have it, of course, but the only reason you’ll have options here is because Blake has this notion that your compliance is necessary. Then again, Blake hasn’t lost a brother to drugs. I could care less if you give us your permission or not.”
“But by the time this is over, I’ll need yours, right? Is that where this is going?”
“That’s exactly where this is headed,” Blake answered for Grant. “And we’ll try to make your recovery as painless as possible.”
“By switching one addiction for another?” she asked, arching her brow. “No thank you. I’ve been there and done you.” A beat later, she looked at Grant, too. “And you.”
“Glad you mentioned that,” Grant said as smugly as possible. “Because since you have a nasty track record of returning to previous habits, you shouldn’t have a problem readjusting to the environments you know best.”
“Which is what exactly?” she asked, a spark of interest settling in her eyes.
“Our beds.”
Chapter Three
Morgan would’ve been mad as hell if she hadn’t been somewhat intrigued. Before she returned to Blountville, Tennessee, she thought of countless scenarios. She’d imagined her brothers turning her away at the door. She’d envisioned Kemper dragging her off to rehab. She’d thought they might call the police, or ask Blake to talk to her, especially since he’d always been the one who could somewhat control her.
She’d never contemplated something like this.
“What are you suggesting?” she finally asked, almost afraid to hear their reply.
“It’s pretty obvious,” Grant said. “Don’t you think?”