Page 51

Luella is fast asleep, her chest to my back, when my phone vibrates, and Aspen’s name appears on the screen.

“Hello,” I answer softly, my voice thick with sleep. “You okay?”

“No,” she replies, sounding hollow and scared. I hear music in the background. “I messed up.”

“What did you do?” I sit up and get out of bed, throwing on my jeans.

“I need you,” she mutters and then ends the call.

Fuck.

Kissing Luella’s cheek, I get dressed and hop on my bike. When I pull up at my house, all my lights are on, and cars are everywhere. She’s thrown a fucking party. There’s a woman out the front on my lawn, throwing up.

“For fuck’s sake, Aspen,” I whisper, sighing. It’s not the first time she’s done something like this, but when she comes back to me, I usually stay with her. Because of Luella, I’ve been at the clubhouse more than I’ve been watching over her. A feeling of guilt hits me, but it’s quickly erased when I see the sheer number of people in my fucking house getting high and drunk.

Someone steps in behind me, and I turn around to Sheriff Grayson. “Got a noise complaint,” he says, taking in the mess around us.

“Oh shit, the cops are here!” someone calls out, and everyone starts panicking, rushing around, and leaving.

“No one can clear a room like you, Sheriff, and for once, I’m grateful.” I grin, and he smirks.

“Aspen?”

I nod.

“You go find her, I’ll clear these assholes out.”

“Appreciated,” I fire back, heading up the stairs.

I find her in the guest room naked and passed out. I cover her with the sheet and then try to wake her. “Aspen?”

Her brown eyes open, muddled. “Yeah?”

“Hospital?” I ask, trying to see how lucid she is.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not that fucked up.”

“What did you take?”

She goes silent.

“You need to go to the rehab center. I can’t keep letting you do this,” I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. “I want my sister back.”

“I’m right here,” she breathes, licking her dry lips.

I get her some water, then leave to let her sleep it off.

Sheriff Grayson is arresting a man as I step back down the stairs.

“Drugs?”

“Yep, taking a few of them in. If I didn’t know you didn’t touch that shit, Haze, I’d be searching your whole fucking house right now,” he mutters, his jaw tensing.

“I need to get her into rehab,” I say to myself, gritting my teeth.

“Yes, you do. The people here tonight are bad news, Haze. She needs to get away from them all because she’s never going to get sober otherwise. Find one with involuntary commitment. There’s no other way she will go.”

I’m not the only one who has been dealing with Aspen’s drug problems around here. Grayson has been around to help her on more than one occasion.