Page 19 of Unholy Confessions (The Paper Rings Trilogy #1)

RJ

I haven't talked to Montgomery since our argument yesterday, but I know I have to make an appearance at her parents' cookout today. It'll be weird if I don't, then I'll have to answer questions I'm not prepared to.

You're not taking an extra pill today. I tell myself.

You're going to make it through the day without help.

No matter how hard it is, I'm gonna do it.

My hands are already shaking. How have I become this reliant in such a short amount of time?

But I guess this is what happens to everyone who experiments to begin with.

They don't think they'll be doing what I'm doing right now.

Glancing down at the counter, I'm counting out the amount of pills I have until my next refill.

I'm going to miss it by two weeks, and I'm unsure how I can get an earlier refill.

I don't want to go downtown and buy them off the street, or ask someone where I can make a buy.

And that makes me feel even worse than I did when I woke up this morning.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I thumb through my contacts, until I get to my doctor. Because of our crazy touring schedule, I have a personal number to his main nurse. My heart is fluttering in my chest as I wait for the line to pick up.

"Nashville Behavioral Health, this is Abby. Can I help you?"

"Hey Abby, this is Rhett James Thompson."

"Oh hey, RJ. How are you doing?"

Here goes nothing. "Okay, but I have a bit of a problem.

I left my Adderall at the last hotel of the tour, and when I called to ask if they'd found it, the pill bottle was empty.

Which means I'm a few weeks before my next refill.

Is there anyway that Dr. Phillips could help me out?

I know it's bad to quit cold turkey. I had one in my daily pill bottle, but come tomorrow I won't have anything. " The lie tastes awful in my mouth.

"Yeah, that's not great," she mumbles, typing in the background. "I'm sending a message to Dr. Phillips, this shouldn't be an issue. You just might not be able to go to your regular pharmacy. We'll fill it in house at our pharmacy. Is that a problem for you?"

"Not at all."

"Great, if you can come in within the next hour, we'll have it for you."

That was almost too easy, and I should be halfway ashamed, but I'm not. I'm already heading to my truck to swing by before I head over to Jared and Shell's.

An hour later, I'm pulling into the familiar driveway of Montgomery's childhood home, the small orange pill bottle burning a hole in my pocket. The sound of laughter and the smell of barbecue drift through the air, and I can see everyone gathered in the backyard through the side gate.

I take a deep breath and force myself to walk around back, plastering on what I hope passes for a normal smile.

"RJ!" Shell calls out, rushing over with open arms. "I'm so glad you could make it, honey."

"Wouldn't miss it," I manage, accepting her hug and trying to ignore how my hands are still trembling slightly.

Montgomery looks up from where she's sitting at the picnic table with EJ, and our eyes meet for the first time since yesterday. There's something tentative in her expression, like she's not sure what to expect from me.

"Hey," she says softly as I approach.

"Hey yourself." I slide onto the bench across from her, hyperaware of my family watching us. "Look, about yesterday?—"

"I'm sorry," she interrupts.

I hate how she keeps apologizing because she's done nothing wrong. It doesn't stop relief from flooding through me. "No, I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete ass.."

She reaches across the table and takes my hand, and I have to concentrate on not letting her feel how badly it's shaking. "We're good?"

"We're good," I confirm, squeezing her fingers.

"Well, thank God," EJ mutters from beside her. "The tension was killing me," he jokes.

Dad claps me on the shoulder as he walks by. "Good to see you. Jared's got the grill going if you want to grab a beer and catch up."

I nod and stand, but as I do, the pill bottle in my pocket seems to grow heavier. Just one, I think. Just to get through today without anyone noticing how messed up I am.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick," I announce to no one in particular.

In the small bathroom off the kitchen, I lock the door and pull out the bottle with shaking hands. The orange plastic rattles as I shake one pill into my palm. Then another.

Just one, I tell myself again, but I'm already swallowing both dry.

I splash cold water on my face and stare at my reflection. "Get it together, Thompson," I mutter.

By the time I make it back outside, the familiar warmth is already spreading through my system. The shaking stops. The fog lifts. Suddenly, I feel like myself again—better than myself.

"So, EJ," I say, sliding back into my seat, "tell me about this new song you've been working on."

For the next hour, I'm on fire. I'm cracking jokes that have everyone laughing, telling stories about tour that have Mom wiping tears from her eyes, and generally being the most charming version of myself.

I can't seem to sit still, though. I'm bouncing my leg under the table, drumming my fingers on the wood, constantly shifting in my seat.

"You seem energetic today," Montgomery observes, and there's something in her tone that makes me look at her more closely.

"Just happy to be here," I say quickly. "And the caffeine from that Coke is hitting me hard."

But even as I say it, I know I need to calm down. I'm talking too fast, moving too much. Everyone's going to notice if I keep this up.

Just breathe, I tell myself. Act normal.

But I can't seem to slow down. When Jared asks about our next album, I launch into an animated explanation of our recording process that goes on for at least ten minutes without stopping.

When Shell mentions the flowers in her garden, I somehow end up giving an impromptu lecture about soil pH levels that I have no business knowing anything about.

It's just something that caught my attention one night when I was trying to fall asleep.

Montgomery's watching me more intently now, her brow furrowed with concern. Every time I catch her eye, she looks away quickly, but I can feel her studying me when she thinks I'm not looking.

As the afternoon winds down and people start to clean up, I force myself to sit on my hands to stop the constant motion. My jaw aches from clenching it, and I realize I've been grinding my teeth for the past hour.

"We should probably head out," Montgomery says quietly as Shell starts covering the leftover food.

"Yeah, good idea." I stand up too quickly, and the world tilts slightly. "Thanks for having us, Shell. Jared, great seeing you."

I make my rounds, hugging everyone goodbye, trying to ignore the way Montgomery stays close to my side like she's afraid I might bolt.

In the driveway, she hesitates by her car. "I think I'm going to head back to my apartment tonight," she says carefully. "I have some work to catch up on."

My heart sinks, but I nod. "Sure, of course. Whatever you need."

She steps closer and kisses my cheek. "I love you, RJ. You know that, right?"

"I love you too," I reply, and I mean it more than anything.

She gives me one last searching look before getting in her car. I wave as she drives away, then sit in my truck for a long moment, staring at my hands on the steering wheel. They're perfectly steady now.

Back at home, I'm pacing around my living room when my phone buzzes.

M: I love you. And if you have anything you need to get off your chest, I'm here. Always.

I stare at the message for a long time before typing back.

R: I don't keep secrets from you. You know that.

But even as I hit send, the lie sits heavy in my chest. Because I am keeping secrets. Big ones. And I have no idea how much longer I can keep this up before everything falls apart.