Chapter Eleven

McKenna

Realizing Knox was going out, that he was choosing his addiction over me, caused a stabbing sensation to pierce my chest. All I wanted was the safety and comfort of my own bed right now.

I’d thought we were making progress. He’d invited me in for pizza, included me in their little celebration. The way he’d looked at me tonight when we were all alone told me he did feel something for me. But then just as quickly, his eyes had gone blank and he pulled back, closing himself off once again.

When I arrived home, I shoved my key in the lock and pushed open the door.

Brian rose from the couch, turning to face me, his expression pinched and angry. “Where the hell have you been? I called your cell six times.”

Oops. I’d left my phone at the bottom of my purse all evening. There was no one I’d wanted to talk to when I was with the Bauer brothers. I smiled, remembering the way Tucker had curled himself against my side and Luke had opened up. Tonight had felt like something special. A tiny connection that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Knowing I was terrible at lying, I took a deep breath, dropped my purse on the counter, and turned to face Brian. “I was over at Knox’s, having dinner.”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. “Are you insane? You went to that—that animal’s house? Alone?” I’d made the mistake of mentioning Knox’s name after Brian had seen me talking to him after group. “Do you have any idea what could have happened—what does happen to girls like you? Watch the evening news more often, because that was stupid and reckless.”

“Girls like me?” My hand went defensively to my hip.

“Yes, girls like you—young, attractive, and sweet. What were you thinking, McKenna? Oh, let me guess, you thought you could get through to him, put him back together?” He huffed out an exasperated breath, like my helping someone was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. I wanted to point out that I had a degree in counseling, but knew that wouldn’t help my cause.

“We weren’t alone. He lives with his brothers.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.” His voice dripped in sarcasm.

“You’re overreacting, Brian. Everything was fine.” Was. Until the end when something in him snapped and he all but kicked me out.

“God, you’re naive. I know you’re trying to save the world and fix everyone and everything around you, but this is taking it too far. I’ve tolerated your running all over the city, playing Miss Martyr, but this isn’t healthy and you know it.”

He’s tolerated it? My heartbeat kicked up in my chest, my blood pressure jumping up. He didn’t have any right to act this way.

“You could have been hurt,” he said, softer this time.

“Yeah, well I wasn’t.” Not physically, anyway. “Stop acting like an overprotective older brother, Brian. Everything’s under control.” I pushed past him on my way to my room.

“That’s all you see me as, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower.

Rather than begin a conversation I so didn’t want to have, I closed my bedroom door and mumbled a good-night in his direction. I was supposed to be getting my life together. Taking this job, moving to the city, all of it was supposed to be my fresh start. My do-over. Instead I felt more confused and alone than ever.

I regretted how I’d handled things with Knox tonight. I drove him away, told him not to come back to group. My feelings were too tangled up to properly be his counselor. I knew I was treating him different from anyone else. For all I knew, they could all be carrying on relations outside of class. I was holding him to a higher standard because I liked him. And I wanted him to like me back.

God, I was pathetic.

I had to force myself out of bed in the morning. Some days were tougher than others, and after last night, I wasn’t feeling particularly put together and ready to face the day.

I didn’t know why the sadness hit me harder some days. Maybe it was PMS. Maybe it was the sting of Knox’s rejection, but I sat up in bed, my legs folded underneath me, fighting back tears and wishing I could talk to my mom. Knowing my parents no longer existed in this world was too much to process. The weight of their deaths crashed down on me and made it difficult to breathe. I felt like a massive dinosaur was sitting on my chest. A feeling that everyone told me should have faded by now, but was alive and present. I just needed to keep busy to block out the pain. It helped me carry on when I no longer wanted to.

That was what I focused on as I laced up my tennis shoes and threw my hair into a ponytail. I was meeting Belinda for coffee this morning to discuss the progress of my group, and then I was headed to a shelter to volunteer. I couldn’t keep running off to see Knox. He wasn’t someone to rely on. He was sick and needed help, and I would help him the best I could. I had only myself to rely on. Which was why I’d signed up to be part of a cleaning crew, wiping down cots and mattresses, scrubbing toilets, and mopping floors at the shelter today. If that didn’t distract me from thoughts of Knox and this dangerous game I was playing with him, nothing would.

When I arrived at Cup O’ Brew, I found Belinda already seated in a comfy armchair at the back of the café. I waved to her, and then ordered a hot chocolate at the counter. I even splurged and got whipped cream, hoping the extra sugar would help elevate my mood.

My insides were burning with curiosity, wondering if Knox had gone out looking for a girl after I’d left. Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he? And I shouldn’t feel the things I did. It would have been normal to be worried about his safety, his health, his mental wellness. Instead I felt a combination of jealousy and regret. Maybe if I’d stayed and talked to him, he’d have chosen me instead of the path he went down. It was all I’d thought about since last night, and I had the dark circles under my eyes to prove it.

Carrying my paper cup, I crossed the room to meet Belinda.

“You look well.” She rose and gave me a brief hug.

I was good at hiding how miserable and alone I felt. And at knowing how to apply under-eye concealer to cover up the fact I’d spent the night tossing and turning.

“Thanks. You do too. I love your scarf.”

The truth was Belinda went completely overboard with accessories. Bright pink hoop earrings, a rabbit brooch on her sweater, a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck, and a giant purple handbag. It was enough color to give me a headache. I slid into the wide leather armchair across from her and took a sip of my hot chocolate.

“Tell me how it’s going leading the new group.”

I fidgeted with my cup, like Belinda would somehow read my thoughts and know all I thought about these days was Knox. “It’s going well. I have about twelve regular members and occasionally get drop-ins too.” I wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to hear. Did she want updates on each individual and their progress?

“Good. And how about participation?”

“Participation in class is average. Some talk more than others, those who are quiet pay attention thought and often nod along.” Except Knox; he only shares when we’re alone together.

Belinda took a notebook from her giant purse and flipped it open to scribble something down. “And engagement with fellow group members? How’s that?”

“Engagement?” I had no idea what she meant.

“Do they support each other, do they mingle after group is over and talk? Exchange phone numbers? Things like that.”

“Oh. Um, no, not really.” Most people fled the room as soon as the hour was up, like they were desperate to get away.

“It’s something I’d like you to encourage. This is their group. They are there to support each other. It’s your job to connect them, encourage them to build friendships inside the group.”

I looked at Belinda, wondering how I’d accomplish that. My mind flashed to Knox again and I imagined partnering him up with Bill or Donald for sharing time, and knew that wouldn’t work. But why was I even thinking of that when I’d told Knox not to bother coming back? Feelings of overwhelming guilt pierced through me, and I struggled to remain composed.

Belinda leaned forward in her chair. “We can provide the structure of a one-hour weekly meeting, but for most people that’s not enough. They need a support system of others who care about their progress and success. It also teaches them there is a way to get their social needs met through healthy interactions, rather than just with sex.”

She was talking about friendship, and suddenly I realized that I was that person for Knox. Before I ruined things, he was slowly starting to open up. I had hoped over time it would lead to his recovery, though it wasn’t my motivator for spending time with him. The truth was, I liked him. I liked being near him. I didn’t think Belinda would approve of that, though. Just the thought of telling her I’d been to his house, spent time alone with him, made my chest flush. No, I would need to keep that to myself.

“I’ll work on it,” I promised.

“Good. We’ll meet again in a few weeks, and I want to hear about your progress and who you’ve connected in the group.”

I made a move to get up, but Belinda held up a hand to stop me.

“There’s one more thing. I’m sending a young woman to your group. Amanda’s a little different from our usual case. I’ve been individually counseling her, but I think she could benefit from a group setting. She has a sex and love addiction. She looks for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. She even tried to trap her last hookup into a relationship by getting pregnant. It obviously didn’t work out the way she wanted—she’s now pregnant and alone and has come forward for help.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months. She’s not showing yet, but I wanted you to know her background. She’s about your age, so I thought perhaps you two might connect. Tread lightly with this one. She’s fragile.”

Join the club. Maybe I wasn’t in any position to be giving out counseling advice with the state of my own life, but I nodded. “I will. And thanks for believing in me.” Her faith in me made me feel even guiltier about my growing feelings for Knox.

But I needed to put that out of my mind. I was due at the shelter and had a day of hard work ahead of me.

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