“You seem preoccupied,” he observed when Jamie was done. “Something on your mind?”
“A little bit.”
Concern threatened the low hum of contentment Jamie had cast over Marc’s soul. “Is it addiction related?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I don’t, but you saw your bag hanging on the kitchen door, didn’t you? So you know I found your tramadol.”
“What?”
Jamie tapped his fingers together. “I found three boxes of tramadol in a bag in a room upstairs. I wrote how many there are on each box and put the bag in the kitchen.”
He spoke as if he’d taken inventory of an office stationary cupboard and his face gave nothing away, but Marc had known him long enough by now to know that jittery hands were Jamie’s red flag.
Marc put his mug down and held his own hands out. “Tell me what happened?”
“Not much, really. I stared at them for a few hours, then I brought them downstairs and stared at them some more. Then I called my mate Billy, who told me to chuck them down the bog, but I didn’t do that because I figured that you probably need them.”
It had been a while since Marc had succumbed to heavy narcotics, but he couldn’t deny that thereweretimes when they were all that could touch a pain that wasn’t even fucking real. Guilt turned his heart-healthy breakfast to dust in his stomach. How on earth had he forgotten about the hospital bag he’d stashed upstairs? “I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t.” Jamie’s fingertips brushed Marc’s lips. “My addiction isn’t your problem. I’ve got to learn to deal with shit like this, or I’m fucked anyway.”
“So did you? Deal with it, I mean?”
Jamie shrugged. “I didn’t bang a box of tramadol, so I guess so.”
“Did you want to?”
“A bit, but it didn’t seem worth it.”
Relief washed over Marc. “That’s good. I’m glad you see it like that.”
Jamie laughed humourlessly. “Don’t get too excited. When I say it’s not worth it, I mean the hit, not the fallout. I’ve done trammies before, and they don’t touch the sides. If I’m going to slip, it’ll be for a better high than that.”
Well, damn.Just when Marc thought he had Jamie’s way of thinking down.Idiot.“So why did you call your friend if you weren’t that tempted? Why not put them back and forget about them?”
“I wanted to hide it, but I’m trying to stop doing that. Trouble is, I don’t trust how I feel, or the decisions I make, so I called Billy. I wish I hadn’t, though. Then I could’ve put the bag back and you wouldn’t be looking at me like I’m an unexploded bomb.”
“Am I?” Was he? Marc shook his head slightly to clear it. “Sorry.”
“What the hell for?”
Marc sighed. “I don’t know at this point, mate. I’m so fucking tired.”
“I know.”
Jamie’s unspoken apology hit Marc in the gut, and it was his turn to trace his fingers over Jamie’s lips. “Let’s drop the blame shit, okay? There’s no end to it if we let it take over.”
“If you say so.”
“I do, and you know I’m right. You feel like a burden for bringing this to the table, and I feel like a failure for not being able to fix it.”
“You can’t fix everyone.”
“I don’t want to fix you. I want you to feel better on your own.”