The Mighty Storm

Chapter Twenty-Six




“He’s using again, isn’t he?”
Stuart looks sadly across the table in the coffee shop we’re in, and nods his head once. “Yes, I think he is.”
“You think or you’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” he says without hesitation.
Stuart should know. He lived with Jake, the addict, before.
“Me too,” I sigh, stirring my coffee, I look down into my cup.
We’re in Boston and it’s two weeks into the US leg of the tour. And Jake’s using drugs again.
It’s become increasingly apparent over the last week.
I’ve never lived with an addict before, but the signs are pretty clear.
He’s not sleeping. His moods are all over the place. His temper is short. He’s drinking more than usual. Fidgety. I could go on.
After Lumb Falls, we went back to the hotel, happy together, and when we woke in the morning, everything was perfect.
Jake was Jake again. We spent time with his mum, and my folks. We all had a wonderful few days together in Manchester.
Then one night everything changed. One phone call changed it all.
Stuart received a heads up call from the press about a story that was going to be run the following morning. The press had found out about Paul’s death. They dug a little deeper and found out he’d been in prison, and just what he went to prison for.
There was no way to stop the story, although Jake and Stuart tried.
So we left Manchester that night, and flew to LA, to Jake’s house.
My first stay at his place, my new home to be, wasn’t exactly how I had imagined it would be.
Jake was tense and stressed. I was alone for most of the time.
When the story hit the news, I lost him. He became introvert.
I hoped things would get better once the tour started. Once he had work to focus on.
They haven’t. They’ve got worse.
He keeps disappearing off on his own, sometimes even without Dave.
When I question him as to where he’s been, he says he’s just been having time out to clear his head.
Basically, he’s out scoring drugs.
Jake’s distanced himself from me. From everyone. He only talks to bark out orders to staff on the tour. And the only time I see him resembling something near to the Jake I know, is when he’s on stage performing at the shows. But the minute he’s off stage, he’s back to the same.
He’s pushing everyone around him away, and I haven’t got a clue what to do. How to help him. I feel completely out of my depth. And so very helpless.
Helpless to the fact that the man I love is slowly slipping away before my eyes.
I’ve considered calling his sponsor, even his drug counsellor, but I feel like I’d be crossing some arbitrary line if I do.
I just feel at a loss.
You have no idea how hard it is to try to hold onto someone when they don’t want you to.
I’ve tried talking to him. He won’t talk to me. He brushes me off, telling me there is nothing wrong.
There clearly is.
The story coming out about what he suffered at the hands of his dad that night was the final nail in the coffin for him.
He could just about cope with Paul dying and the old memories and feelings that resurfaced for him, but this story coming out was too much.
I know he feels like he’s been exposed to the world as the weak man he truly believes himself to be. It’s crippled him, and the only way he knows how to deal with that emotion is to conceal it with drugs so he no longer has to feel.
The flip side of that, which he doesn’t see, is that he stops loving too.
He’s stopped loving me on some fundamental level.
It’s still there, buried somewhere deep within him. But for now, this Jake I’ve got here with me, doesn’t love me. Not really. And it’s not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t.
So now it’s up to me to try to find a way to bring him back.
I think he started using again around the time the tour began here in the US. On some level I think I knew, I just didn’t want to believe it.
But now it’s become too hard to ignore.
He went to take a shower this morning and when he came out of the bathroom, I looked up at him and there was blood running from his nose.
That’s when I knew what he’d been doing in there.
He downplayed the nosebleed. Said it was just because he was tired and stressed.
After I’d cleaned his bleed up, I went in the bathroom looking for evidence of drugs but I couldn’t find any.
He’s adept at hiding his addiction. Now I just need to figure a way to out it.
“What do I do?” I ask Stuart, dropping my spoon onto the table.
“Confront him.”
“Will he deny it?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then what?”
“Keep trying. But, Tru, he won’t recognise the problem until he’s ready to – you need to know that, and be ready for the backlash that will undoubtedly come with it when you do confront him.”
I put my head in my hands. “I just can’t believe he’s back there again.” I lift my head. “This must be terrible for you, seeing him doing this to himself again … he told me what happened in LA … when you found him,” I allude to the rest with my expression.
“I’m glad he told you. It shows how much he trusts you.”
“Will you leave him now?”
Stuart looks at me surprised. “No. Why do say that?”
I knot my fingers together around the coffee cup. “Because Jake said you told him at that time if he carried on using you would leave, and I just thought as he is again … then maybe you would leave.”
I don’t think Jake would cope without Stuart. Honestly, I don’t think I could cope without him. I’ve come to rely on his friendship so much in these last few weeks.
He shakes his head, smiling. “I’d never leave him. I like the perks too much.” He rolls his eyes, ironic. “Jake’s like my family, just like you are now, chica.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. My eyes fill with tears. “It was just an empty threat.”
“That worked,” I say blotting my eyes with a napkin.
“Yeah, but he was also ready by that point. He knew it, as much as I did.”
“Is that what I should do? Threaten to leave him.”
He shrugs. Leaning back in his chair, he pushes hair off his forehead. “Anything is worth a shot, but Jake will only get clean if he truly wants to … he loves you like no one before. I see the bond you guys have, so maybe the threat of you leaving might shock him into it. I know getting you back in his life meant everything to him. Maybe the thought of losing you again might just push him in the right direction.”
“But what if …” I pause, swallowing against my own words, eyes down, I tap my fingernails on the table. “What if I threaten to leave him, and he still won’t stop using?”
Stuart leans forward, closer to me. “Well, honey, before you do anything you have to decide if that’s the chance you want to take. The possibility of losing him. I don’t think you would ever lose Jake permanently, but temporarily? Maybe, yes, it could happen, if he’s not ready to face his problem yet.”
I don’t want to lose Jake. Not at all. Not even for a moment. But I don’t want this version of him either.
“I already lost my Jake the moment he took his first hit,” I sigh, lifting my eyes to meet Stuart’s. “And if I have any hope of trying to get him back, then I’m going to have to confront this version of him, and simply go from there, no matter what happens.”


The second I get back to our suite at the Ritz, I instantly know something is wrong. I can practically feel Jake’s tension radiating through the air as I push open the door.
“Where the f*ck have you been?!” He’s on me the instant I’m through the door. “Don’t you answer your goddamn cell anymore?!”
I sigh inwardly. Here we go again.
“Hello to you too,” I bite.
“I’m not f*ckin’ kidding, Tru.”
“Neither am I.” I give him a hard stare as I walk past him.
Getting my phone from my bag I see I have ten missed calls and five voicemails.
“I was out having coffee with Stuart,” I say putting my phone back in my bag and dropping it onto the table.
“I called him too and he didn’t answer – why not?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a mind reader. Maybe because he was out with me? Maybe because it’s his day off? Why don’t you ask him?”
I turn around to see Jake pacing the floor, anger clear on his face.
I don’t know what’s wrong with him right now, but it seems we are going to have to get past whatever this is before I can have the drugs talk with him.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask, walking toward him, hands out.
I’m trying the soft, tactical approach; it’s the only way with him at the moment.
Jake can be irrational at times. Drug taking Jake – always irrational.
“This is what’s wrong.” He marches away from me, leaving me dead in my tracks, and goes over to the desk, grabs an envelope off it and marches back, shoving it in my hand.
“What’s this?” I look down at it confused.
“Open it the f*ck up, and then you can answer me the very same question.”
I stare across at him puzzled, then back down at the envelope.
Okay, so whatever it is has got him majorly pissed off.
Apprehensively, I peel the seal back on the envelope, reach in and put my fingers around what feels to be photos.
Yep, it’s photos.
Photos of me and Will from Callo’s that last day I saw him.
One is of Will and me sitting across the table from one another, the next – Will holding my hand across the table, and the last, a photo of Will and me hugging outside of Callo’s.
I look up at Jake. “Where did you get these?”
“Are you f*cking him?”
I feel like he’s just slapped me.
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want, it’s the truth.” I drop the photos onto the coffee table, along with the envelope. “Did you have me followed?”
“No. Do I need to?”
I glare at him.
“The press sent them,” he fires at me. “They’re running a story that you’re having an affair with him.”
I snort at the ridiculousness of it.
“You find something funny about this?” He stares at me with glassy eyes.
He’s high right now. And he’s also not amused.
Well guess what Jake, neither am I.
“I’d say so, yeah.” I drag my hands through my hair. “The press are about to accuse me of having an affair with Will – the man who was the one wronged because I had an affair with you. It’s beyond ludicrous! We can’t let this happen. We have to tell the press the truth – and I need to call Will and warn him about this.”
I get my phone out of my bag ready to make the call, but Jake lunges forward and grabs it from my hand.
“You’re screwing around with him, and you’re going to call him here in front of me!” he yells.
“Jake, I’m not cheating on you with Will. Barring the fact that I would never do that to you, when exactly would I do so? I’m with you all the time. And I’m also here in the US, and Will is in the UK. Seriously, please just see sense here, and give me my phone back.” I hold my hand out to him.
“You’re not calling him, Tru.”
“Give. Me. My. Phone. Back.”
“No!” he yells, and throws my phone clear across the room and all I can do is watch as it smashes to pieces against the wall.
“Have you lost your mind?!” I cry, hand clutching my head. “Jesus Christ, Jake! Who is this version of you?! I feel like I don’t even know you anymore!”
I go over to where my broken phone lays, crouching down, I pick the pieces up and hold them together like I can somehow repair it.
Staying there for a few moments, I take some deep breaths before speaking again.
“Whatever issue you have with Will,” I state calmly standing, putting down the remnants of my shattered phone onto the table – poor Adele. “He’s done nothing wrong and it’s only fair to warn him if he’s about to get screwed over in the press. He’s got a career to think about. Surely you can understand that.”
Jake stares at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling heavily. “I’ll get my lawyers to bury the story.”
“You can do that?” I feel a huge sense of relief. I don’t want Will getting any more hurt than he has been, and if Jake can stop it then all the better.
“I can do anything I want.”
I hate it when he’s arrogant like this.
I love sexy arrogant Jake. Not, ‘I’m king of the world drug taking’ arrogant Jake.
“So why all of this … hang on – was this some sort of damn test? The story’s already buried isn’t it?” I ball my hands into fists at my sides.
Jake says nothing, just stares steadily back at me.
“Why couldn’t you just talk to me properly about this instead of all the theatrics?”
His face laces with anger again. “How the hell do you think I felt seeing these photos, Tru?” He jabs a finger in the direction of them. “And then you side with him just like I knew you would!”
“Side with him? We’re not in school here!” Then I pause, collecting myself, realising the yelling is getting us nowhere.
“Jake, I’m not siding with Will,” I say in calmer voice. “I know it must have been a shock for you seeing them like that, but please just try to see reason here, those photos are not what you thought they were. And I get it, this issue you have with Will, I do, but you have to let it go now and trust me. He was the one wronged here, not us.” I take a step closer to him. “I’m with you. I’ll always be with you. I’m not a cheater, as ironic as that sounds. I only did, what I did to Will, with you, because it was you, Jake. Because of how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. I have loved you my whole life. You must know that. Yes, I handled it all so very badly, but I promise you, I will never hurt you like I did Will.”
His eyes scan my face. “I just need to know if anything happened with Will when you saw him?”
Am I talking to myself?
“No.” I’m trying to stay calm, I really am, but I’m struggling at the moment.
“Just the thought of you with him.” He drags his hands through his hair, looking agonised. “When were you going to tell me that you were sleeping with him again? Were you ever going to tell me?”
Apparently, I am talking to myself.
“Argghh! Never!” I snap, my head finally popping. “Because there is nothing to tell! I saw Will on the day you flew over to London after your dad had died. I’d gone into work in the morning to see Vicky before you were due to arrive. When I left the building, I bumped into Will outside. He’d seen me go in work and waited for me to leave. He just wanted to talk to me. I thought it was the least I could do after what I’d done to him. We went to Callo’s for a coffee. We talked. I cried. He held my hand because I was sad that I’d hurt him. It was good of him after what I’d done. We left Callo’s. He hugged me goodbye outside. And then we went our separate ways and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Jake is staring at me, but it’s like he’s seeing through me. His pupils are wide and dilated, and I’m wondering if he just heard a word I said.
“So why didn’t you just tell me you’d seen him that day?” His voice sounds a little calmer.
I almost exhale with relief that my words are finally sinking in and this conversation is seemingly nearly over with. The downside – next I have to broach the subject of his very apparent drug use.
“Because your dad had just died and I knew it would upset and stress you out. You don’t see straight when it comes to Will, baby. I was going to tell you when things had calmed down, but then the story hit the news about your dad … what happened that night and there’s just never been a right time since.”
Because you’re using drugs again.
His face darkens. “So you just thought you’d keep lying to me instead?!”
Here we go again. He’s up and down like a goddamn yoyo, and I am so absolutely done with his crap.
“Are you f*cking kidding me?! Don’t you dare, Jake, don’t you bloody dare,” I point an angry finger at him.
“What? I’ve never lied to you.”
“Um no? Sorry, just when exactly was it you told me that you’d started using drugs again?”
He stares evenly at me. “I’m not using.” He frowns. Then he rubs his nose.
“Sure you’re not. So let me get this straight.” I press my fingertips to my forehead. “It’s not okay for me to hold something back – like having a coffee with Will, to try and spare your feelings at a terrible point in your life, but it is okay for you to break promises and lie to me about using drugs. Good to know how we roll Jake,” I add sarcastically.
“I’m not using drugs.” He frowns again, and little crease forms between his brows.
I lean back against the table and fold my arms across my chest. “Please don’t insult me. I know.”
“You don’t know anything because I’m not using.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I cry, staring him down, as I straighten up. “I want to know when it started and exactly what it is you’re using?”
“I’m not–”
“Don’t f*cking lie to me!” I yell. “I’m not stupid!”
“Yeah like I’m not stupid about what’s been going on behind my back with you and Will.”
I laugh. I actually laugh at his audacity. “Don’t try turning this back on me because it’s not going to wash. Tell me what you’re using? If you don’t, I’m walking out that door and I’m never coming back.” I ensure to keep my voice steady to let him know I mean it.
He lets out a light sigh. Stepping back, he leans up against the wall and pushes his hands through his hair.
“Just a bit of coke,” he says evenly, shrugging.
Even though I knew, it still pains me to hear. And I feel a corner of my heart chip away.
“Oh no, Jake,” I shake my head despairing. “What were you thinking?”
“I’ve got it under control.”
“You know for smart successful guy – you are a complete bloody idiot at times!”
“Tru…”
“No, Jake, seriously this isn’t right. Where are they?” My eyes are scanning the room.
“What?”
“The drugs, Jake! Where are they?”
“There isn’t any here.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
I start moving around the room, tossing cushions, pulling drawers out, searching the room like a woman possessed.
Where would an addict keep their drugs? Think, Tru. Think.
Then I remember him being in the bathroom this morning, and it clicks with something I saw in a film once.
I rush into the bedroom and head straight toward the ensuite bathroom. Jake is fast on his feet behind me, and that’s when I know I’m heading to the right place.
I beat him there, and pull the lid off the cistern. And there it is, sitting on top of a pipe.
A small bag of white powder.
Cocaine, I’m guessing.
Picking it up, holding it between my fingers, I turn to him.
His face is ashen.
My whole body is shaking with anger and fear. Fear mostly.
I hold the bag of cocaine up in front of me. “How long?”
He looks down, away from me.
“How long have you been back using? Or did you never stop? Have you been on this crap the whole time we’ve been back in each other’s lives?”
His eyes snap up to mine. “No. When I said I was clean I was telling you the truth.”
“So when?”
“I took my first hit in Chicago.”
I gasp. “The first show of the tour?” My words come out tinny and small.
Even though I had thought this to be the case, it’s still just so hard to hear.
“Why?” my voice wobbles. My throat is thick with tears.
He shakes his head, shrugging. “I was just on edge and … I needed something to take it off to get me through the show. It’s not a big deal, Tru.”
“Not a big deal?! Are you being bloody serious?!” I expostulate.
“I’m not addicted,” he shakes his head
“How many times have you used since Chicago?”
He shifts on his feet. Not meeting my eyes, he says, “Once, twice – max.”
He’s lying. Fear starts to spread through me like weaving spider webs.
“How. Many. Times?”
He sighs and leans back against the tiled wall. “Does it matter?”
“I’ll take that to be every day then.”
He doesn’t argue the fact, so I get my answer. And my blood runs cold.
He’s been high for the last two weeks straight. High when we’ve eaten dinner together. Watched TV together. Every time he’s kissed me. Made love to me. He’s had this crap in his body.
It tarnishes it all.
I feel lied to and cheated, and so very angry and it just all suddenly bursts right out of me.
“I can’t believe this, Jake! You promised me you would never get back on this crap! Back at Lumb Falls you promised!”
“Yeah, well things change.” His voice is low and cold, and he doesn’t sound like the Jake I know.
The Jake I love.
Tears are squeezing at my eyes. Feeling suddenly lost and adrift, I lower my hand which is still holding the little bag of cocaine.
I see Jake’s eyes follow it down like his life depends on it.
Disappointment, and an ache so raw, courses through me and I fear it will tear me right open.
I’m losing the man I love to this trash in my hand, and I have no clue how to stop it from happening.
“Look it’s not a big deal,” he says. His voice has changed again, it’s gentle, his expression softened. “I just take a little bit to get me through the day that’s all. It’s nothing for you to worry about, baby.”
“You shouldn’t need this crap to get you through the day at all,” I whisper, my voice breaking over the words. “It’s not right, Jake. You know this. You’ve been here before.”
“I’m not addicted. I’ve got it under control this time.”
“And that’s exactly what an addict would say.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from bursting into tears. “Just like the addict who pissed on stage in front of thousands of people … like the addict who nearly drowned.”
His eyes narrow. His jaw is clenched, I can see it working under his skin.
I know he’s trying to hold his anger in. For now.
“That was different.” His voice is measured, even. “I wasn’t in control then. I’m in control now – and I didn’t have you then, baby.” He tries to step near me, but I hold my hand up stopping him.
“You have me now, but you’re still using this crap. That doesn’t stick, Jake. That’s not a well formed reason you have there. I don’t think this is different to the last time at all. I think you’ll end up right back where you were, floating face down in a goddamn swimming pool dead if you keep up with this!”
His gaze practically tears through me. I know that was harsh but I need to shock some sense into him.
“I know things are hard for you at the moment. I know you’ve been struggling since your dad died, and the story getting out about that night – what he did to you, and I know you’re under pressure with the tour and–”
“Do you?!” he hollers at me. The level of his anger actually makes me jump out of my suddenly cold skin. “Because honestly I don’t think you have a f*ckin’ clue! What do you do Tru? You write a stupid little column in a crappy f*ckin’ magazine! Me? I run a f*ckin’ music label and a band, taking care of everyone else, while simultaneously touring, so you know what – I don’t think you know shit all about the kind of pressure I’m under!”
I feel winded. I know that’s not him talking, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“Thanks, Jake. It’s good to know how I sit in your eyes.”
I push past him, heading back into the living room.
He follows me.
Stopping, I turn around. I’ve only got my one card left to play.
“I know you’re struggling, that’s clear, and I know your life is pressured at the moment, but I can’t put up with the drug taking.” I hold the bag of crap up again, for the last time. “It’s me or this?”
“What?” His eyes widen with disbelief.
“You heard. You either go back to rehab and get clean, or I’m gone. I won’t stick around and watch you screw your life up again.” My whole body is trembling under the weight of my words.
All emotion disappears from his face, and he takes a deep breath in through his nose. “Again? Sorry were you here the last time?”
I close my eyes tight shut, taking a deep breath in myself. Then I open them. “No. And why was that, Jake?” I stare hard at him. “It’s me or this?” I repeat, lifting the bag higher.
His jaw tenses, his eyes slip out of focus, then narrow back onto mine with a new determinedness in them. “I don’t do ultimatums.”
A pain hits me hard in the chest. He’s made his decision. He’s way more gone than I had realised.
As I blink through the agony, a tear runs from my eye. I wipe it away with my sleeve. Then I toss the bag of coke to him.
It hits his chest, and drops to the floor.
“Have a wonderful life with your drugs, Jake.”
I swivel on my heel, feeling more tears coming, I make to leave.
Jake grabs me from behind, pulling me back to him. “Tru, no, I don’t want you to go.”
“You can’t have both!” I cry in his face.
“Stop acting like a child!” A sudden callous anger bleeds through his voice, and he leans his face close to mine, his fingers gripping my arm to the point of almost pain.
“Me?! I’m not the one acting like a child!” I remonstrate. “I think you need to take a good long look in the mirror!”
His face contorts, and for a moment I don’t recognise him.
He releases me, pushing me away. “F*ck you. I can do what the f*ck I want, and if I want to shovel coke up my nose all day long then I will – because it’s my life. I got by just fine before you turned back up, interfering with your holier than now attitude. I didn’t need you then, and I certainly don’t need you now.”
I sharp in a breath, his words chilling my skin to my bones.
And in this moment all I want to do is hurt him, just like he’s hurting me.
“You know what Jake. You were right – you are just exactly like your dad.”
He looks like I’ve hit him, hard.
Then his face smooth’s, his eyes fixing onto mine. “If that’s the way you feel. Then you know where the door is.” His voice is cold, emotionless, and terrifying calm.
It’s his ultimatum.
And I’m so hurt and angry that I can’t see straight at the moment.
“It is. I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m done.” Lifting my chin, I turn on my heel, grab my bag and slam my way of the hotel room.