Infuse: The Band Book 1 Page 9

  “No, it’s nothing.”

  He holds up a hand to tell me to wait.

  “Trust me, it’s all blown over now. Look I have to go, call back anytime though.”

  “No, wait!” I lunge for the phone but it’s too late, the call has been disconnected. “What the hell Wes! What did you have to tell her about the damn pictures for?”

  “Calm down Finnley. It just slipped out, but it’s fine. She just wanted to know how you were doing.”

  “It is so not damn fine! The last thing she needs is to be worried about that tabloid trash that’s been going around.”

  The front door bangs loudly. Sophie must be home from school.

  “We can finish this later. You need to calm down anyway.”

  I get up in Wes’s face and whisper loudly. “We’ll finish this now. What did she say? They won’t tell me a freaking thing anymore.”

  “She’s fine okay. And watch your language, I do not want my sister to hear you talking like that.”

  “She hears worse at school.”

  “Well she won’t hear it from us. I don’t care what’s going on in your life, you have to remember what we agreed upon. I know you’re upset, but Soph comes first.”

  I back down, ashamed of my actions. Just one more reason I’m no good for anyone. My head is too messed up right now.

  “I’m gonna go.”

  “You are not going to wuss out again. You are going to go out there and ask Soph how her day was. And then you are going to hang around and have dinner with us. And then and only then are you going to go home and stew, or whatever it is you spend your time doing these days.”

  “Fine, just give me a minute alright?”

  “Fine.” Wes shakes his head as he leaves the room.

  I sit down and put my head in my hands. How do I stay away from her when she’s all I can think about? Today’s call dashed any hopes I had that she’d forgotten all about me by now. Knowing there’s nothing I can do to fix this is killing me. And now to top it all off she knows about the pictures. I’m fairly confident that there isn’t any way for her to view them where she is. But Autumn’s a smart girl, I believe if she wants something bad enough, she’ll find a way. I’ve had my lawyers working on getting the pictures taken down, but removing them altogether is impossible. What more can I do?

  An idea comes to me, but I’m not sure it’s a good one. Although it will stop the paps talking about her. But will it help more than it hurts the woman I would do anything to protect? Or will it just cause more pain?

  My mind whirls with possible outcomes as I head to the kitchen. Soph and Wes have school books spread out over the counter.

  “Hey Finn.”

  “Hey Soph, how was school?”

  “Terrible, our teacher was away and we had an awful sub. Didn’t even get us out of homework.”

  “Uh huh, that’s good.”

  “Uncle Finn, you didn’t listen to me did you?”

  I look up, Wes is giving me a death stare and Soph just looks confused.

  “Sorry Soph, I just have a lot on my mind at the moment.”

  “That’s okay, you can help me with my homework while Wes makes dinner to make it up to me.” She smiles at me sweetly and I can’t resist, I smile back.

  Wes gets up and I slip into his chair. “What are we doing?”

  “We’ll start with English.”

  “Ah my favorite.”

  “We have to write about something that made us happy and something that made us sad.”

  “Have you chosen something yet?”

  “We-ell, for the happy thing I was going to write about coming to live here, but it’s kind of happy and sad at the same time.”

  My heart breaks for the poor kid. She’s been through so much, the last thing she needs is my drama on top of everything. I smile softly. “Well maybe you can combine both of those feelings into the one story? Write about why it’s happy and why it’s sad. Do you think that’ll work?”

  “Umm, I think so. Thanks Finn.”

  “Sure, I’ll correct the grammar and stuff after you’ve finished if you want?”

  “Thanks, that’d be great.”

  I stand up as Sophie begins furiously writing across the page and walk over to Wes who’s chopping up vegetables for tonight’s stir-fry.

  “Need a hand?” I say, as my way of apologizing for earlier.

  “Sure, you can chop up some carrots.” He slides them across to me.

  “No problem.” I grab another chopping board and a sharp knife.

  “You alright now?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for putting up with all of my shi– stuff.”

  “That’s what family do. We stick by each other through thick and thin.”

  Autumn

  There are photos? Of course there are photos, there were about a hundred photographers there that night clicking away. Sweat breaks out across my skin and I sit down as my head spins. Breathe Autumn, just breathe, you can get through this. My pulse begins to slow and the dizziness slowly passes. I need to see the pictures. I know I probably shouldn’t but I need to know what’s out there.

  We aren’t allowed any internet or phone access here, apart from the odd approved phone call, like my call to Wes. It was amazing to hear his voice again, to feel the connection to Finn through his closest friend. It didn’t sound like Finn was doing that well. Does he blame himself for what happened? Of course he does. He’s the sort of man who comes across so tough and capable on the outside, but feels everything so deeply on the inside. That’s what makes him such a great songwriter. He can tap into his feelings and share them through the music. But I guess that sort of thing comes at a cost, and it breaks me up inside to know I was the cause of more guilt and anguish for him.

  Although as a patient here I don’t have access to any internet, I know the staff do. I’ve seen the ladies in reception quickly checking their Facebook and twitter feed when they think no one is watching. But the reception area is always busy, it would be hard to gain access to a computer long enough for me to look up what I need to. One of the counsellors’ rooms would be my best bet. They have internet access and the privacy I need. Of course, they are fastidious about keeping their doors locked when they aren’t there. Each room has a numbered keypad on the door, so if I could somehow get one of the combinations…

  Who am I kidding? I’m hardly Sherlock Holmes. I have about as much chance of cracking the code as I do of marrying Finn. As much as I might daydream about both things, they are far out of my reach. The only other option left is to convince my counselor, Dr. Mary, (she uses her first name because she thinks last names are too remote) that I am all fixed and safe to be out in society again. I like Dr. Mary and it feels wrong to even consider lying to her to try and make her believe nothing is wrong with me. I’m still having constant nightmares, but luckily I still have a room to myself, which will help if I want to try and convince her my nightmares have stopped.

  The one where I’m in the big hole where hands are grabbing at me and pulling me down, is one of the most common ones. In another one, Finn is giving a press conference. He smiles happily while people in white coats put me into a straight jacket and drag me from the room. I call for him and scream as they drag me away, but he just smiles and keeps answering the reporters’ questions as if nothing is wrong. I hate that one the most. The fact that he doesn’t care about me even as a friend, crushes me and I wake up sobbing. It takes me hours to get back to sleep and I find myself scared to close my eyes at night now.

  It’s time for my next counselling session, so I get up from my seat near the window in the rec. room and head away from the chattering voices of the other patients. Since Jemma left, I’ve pretty much kept to myself. I’m not supposed to shut myself off, but I can’t seem to will myself to make the effort to get to know any of the other patients.

  Dr. Mary’s door is open. My feet brush against the plush, grey carpet as I wander in and sit in my usual soft leather chair.

&nb
sp; “Hello, Autumn. How are you today?”

  “Alright, Dr Mary.”

  “Did you sleep?”

  I rub my fingers under my eyes, wishing I had some concealer to make my sleeping problems less obvious. “For a few hours.”

  “Which dream was it last night?” She asks, concern evident on her face. Her dark hair, streaked with grey, is pulled back into a tidy bun. Her large brown eyes are filled with compassion.

  I shudder, unable to hide my feelings the way I want to. “The straight jacket one.”

  “Did any of the relaxation techniques help?”

  “They definitely help me to fall asleep, but not so much after one of the dreams.”

  “How about prayer, have you given that a go?”

  “Um, not really. It sort of feels weird to talk to someone who isn’t there.”

  “That’s alright Autumn, you can do things whenever you’re ready. Keep using the relaxation techniques. And of course, we’ll keep talking things through here and hopefully your dreams will fade over time as you come to terms with what happened.”

  “Um, how long do you think that might be?”

  “It’s impossible to say with this sort of traumatic event. All your blood tests have come back negative, so we can rule out any underlying medical issues.”

  “So you mean I’m just regular crazy?”

  Dr. Mary smiles. “Hardly, we’ve gone over what happened with your stepfather. I know you don’t consider it bad enough to have caused all your fainting and anxiety, but you need to realize the brain is an amazingly complex organ. What one person can just brush off as inconsequential, in another more sensitive person, the same event can have far more devastating and long lasting effects.”

  “So I’m just too sensitive, then? How do I make myself less sensitive so I can be normal?”

  “Sensitivity is a wonderful thing, Autumn. The way you see and interact with the world is special. Without people like you, we would have far less beauty in the world. You don’t need to desensitize yourself to the world, but rather, to teach yourself how to cope with things you find overwhelming.”

  “I just wish I wasn’t like this. I want to be able to travel. I want to see the world without having this fear inside of me.”

  “God made you unique, Autumn. You are a brave and beautiful woman. Already I can see the changes in you. I know you can be that woman you want to be.”

  “I think I know what you mean. Sometimes I do feel better. I feel like I am getting stronger, but then I have the dream and I feel like I’m unravelling. Like I can’t hold myself together anymore.”

  The phone shrills, startling me. Dr. Mary answers the call, it must be important. Calls aren’t put through during a session unless they are urgent. Dr. Mary’s smile falls away and her eyes close. She puts down the phone.

  “I’m sorry to cut this short Autumn, but I need to go.”

  “Is everything okay?” I can hear a tremor run through my voice.

  “It’s my son, Lachlan. He’s been in a motorcycle accident.”

  I gasp. “Is he going to be alright? What can I do?”

  “You can pray for him. I need to get to the hospital.” She scoops up her bag and leaves me alone in the room.

  I’m stunned. In her haste, she’s forgotten to shoo me out and lock her door. Her computer sits open on her desk, calling to me. But it doesn’t seem right somehow. Her son lies injured in the hospital, it would be wrong to take advantage of her pain. I sit there, not sure what to do, waiting for someone to come in and take the decision away from me. What should I do?

  The last thing Dr. Mary asked me to do was to pray for her son. Surely I can do that for her, how hard can it be? I’ve heard plenty of people pray while I’ve been at Peaceful Shores, they just kind of talk like they are having a regular one-sided conversation. I close my eyes and say what’s on my heart.

  “Um, God, I’m not sure if you are real, or if you’d bother listening to me. But I know Dr. Mary is a beautiful, wonderful woman and her son is in the hospital. He’s hurt, I don’t know how badly, but could you maybe, help him to get better. And um, keep Dr. Mary safe so she can be by his side. Um, thanks for listening.” I open my eyes and breathe deeply, not feeling as silly as I thought I would. In fact I feel good that I’ve done what Dr. Mary asked me to. Helping someone else feels good, I’m sick of thinking about my problems all the time.

  I stand up to leave the room, but somehow I end up walking over to the computer. Before I know it I’m typing Finn’s name into the search engine and hitting enter.

  Results instantly flood the screen, I scroll down until a headline jumps out at me.

  FINN HOLLOWAY SAVES MYSTERY LOVER

  I click on the link and I’m immediately confronted by a large picture of Finn, he’s holding me in his arms as I lie there looking like death. My head is back and my eyes are closed, but the thing that haunts me the most, is the expression on Finn’s face. It’s hard to look at, but impossible to look away. The anguish in his eyes as he looks down at me is terrible to witness. Seeing this, it makes we worry about him even more. The tears roll down my face as I scan the article.

  Finn and a mystery woman…faints and is saved by her lover…has Finn finally found love…who is she…undeniably in love…the bad boy of rock finally tamed.

  It’s worse than I imagined. The things they’ve written about both of us. I go back to my search and click on another article. I gasp. This one lists my name and where I went to school, the work I do from home, they know so much about me. Except about my stepfather, they don’t know about that, there’s no way they could know. But still, to be so exposed to the world is confronting. I feel like I've been stripped bare and exposed for the whole world to see.

  But rather than thinking about me, I can’t help thinking about Finn. This is his life, stories like this have been written about him for years. How does he cope with it all? No wonder he can be closed off sometimes. He feels things deeply like I do. How is he coping knowing he brought this invasion into my life? He isn’t, there’s no way he’s alright thinking he’s done this to me. I know him well enough to know that.

  I type another search, seeking only the most recent articles about him. I click on the link that I find most disturbing.

  FINN HOLLOWAY GOES ON DRUG BINGE AFTER MYSTERY LOVE LEAVES HIM

  The accompanying photo breaks my heart into tiny pieces. It shows Finn walking out of a supermarket, looking gaunt and pale. His usually shiny hair is flat and drab, his jeans sit so low on his hips, you can make out his hip bones. His face is pale, except for the dark circles under his eyes. His head is down as he doesn’t even acknowledge the paparazzi. How can he have gone from the bright vibrant man I knew to this in a few weeks? Surely Wes would have told me if Finn was taking drugs? He’d indicated Finn was having a few issues but that it wasn’t that serious. I can’t believe he would have brushed it off if it was something like this. I don’t stop to think, I grab the phone and dial Wes’s number. The phone rings and rings until it finally rings out.

  I turn back to the computer, looking for any definite evidence, but there isn’t anything concrete. Just more stories trying to guess what has caused Finn’s recent weight loss and haggard appearance. I need to get out of here, I can’t stay here anymore when Finn is out there spiraling out of control because of me. I delete my search history before running from the room. I run all the way to the reception area, my breath coming in gasps by the time I arrive.

  The polished blonde turns to me as I thump into the desk.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “No! I need to leave right now. Can you check me out?”

  “Name?”

  “Autumn O’Neil.”

  “One moment please.”

  I tap impatiently on the counter wishing she would hurry up. I can’t see what’s on the screen but she picks up the phone and has a hurried conversation I can’t quite hear.

  “I’m sorry Miss Holloway, I can’t check you out. Dr.
Gare will be down to talk to you shortly. Please take a seat.” She smiles as if the world isn’t ending.

  I ignore her advice to sit and pace back and forth across the plush carpet.

  “Autumn?”

  “Dr. Gare, you need to let me leave.”

  “Can we go somewhere more private to discuss this?”

  Realizing I’m not going to get my way, I acquiesce and follow Dr. Gare back to his office. He offers me a seat and I reluctantly sit.

  “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

  “I’m ready to leave now. I can’t stay here anymore.” My knees bounce up and down despite my best efforts to keep them still.

  “When we took you in, you signed a contract. Do you remember that Autumn?” Dr. Gare asks patiently.

  I remember it well. In order to accept patients, they have to agree to stay as long as the facility deems them to need to recover. Assuming they can afford the fees. Apparently it increases their success rate ten fold.

  “Yes, of course I remember. But something’s happened and I need to leave early.”

  “Can you tell me what has you so agitated?”

  “Um, sorry, I really can’t.”

  “Then I’m afraid, considering where you are in your treatment, I can’t sign the authorization to leave.”

  “What if I promise to come back?”

  “Again, I would need to know the circumstances necessitating your departure.”

  “A friend of mine needs my help. And I think I’m the only one who can save him.”

  Dr. Gare raises an eyebrow. “Indeed, can you tell me the name of this person?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Again, I can’t accurately assess the situation without full disclosure. You do realize anything you say to me will remain private?”

  I gulp. “It’s Finn, Finn Holloway. I believe his life might be in danger and I‘m the only one who can help him, because he believes my being here is his fault.”

  “So, you think if you can convince him you are well, a possible crisis might be averted.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “And are you in fact fully recovered, Autumn?”