Extra Bonus: Loren Hale at the Christmas Charity Gala (Patreon)

IMPORTANT: Please do not screenshot and post any part of this bonus scene to other sites or share with non-patrons. All of the Patreon content is exclusive to Patreon and for current patron's eyes only.  Thank you!! xoxo Krista & Becca

MUSIC: We listened to "Pleasant Street/You Keep Me Hanging On" by Tim Buckley while writing this bonus scene.

TIMELINE: This is an Addicted/Calloway Sisters bonus scene. It's a retelling of Chapter 32 in Loren Hale's POV of Addicted to You - December 2011. It's also in the print edition of Addicted to You.

Lily looks as numb as I want to feel. The elevator descends to the grand ballroom for the Christmas Charity Gala. I can’t even rest my eyes on Lil.

Can’t glance over to wonder if she’s okay. I have flashes of us together in the hotel room, and I know I hurt her, somehow. I know she’s not okay. I shouldn’t have fed into her desire to fuck. I shouldn’t have been that rough. Can’t take it back. Can’t rewind time. I tried to erase it for a moment.

The mini bottle of tequila I downed lingers like acid in the back of my throat. Everything is building. Amassing.

Crushing.

I stare straight ahead. Muscles searing.

She deserves better.

She shouldn’t be with me—not this me. The me who’d let my bad day become her worst one. The me who’d drag her so low with me—but I don’t know what life is like without Lily. She’s . . . she’s my best friend.

She’s my world, my soul.

She’s the thing buried inside me that deserves to be held gently. That deserves to see the light. I know that.

I know that.

“Where are you going when we get down there?” she asks quietly.

“I need to talk to my father.” I sound harsher than I mean to be, especially towards her, and I watch the glowing numbers, my unblinking eyes burning.

For a moment there, I did believe I could get sober without rehab. Without leaving Lily behind. But can’t can’t can’t seems to be my motto. I can’t rewind time.

I can’t hack college.

I can’t be the man Lily needs.

I can’t be the man that I should be. That I hope to be. Not yet.

And maybe I am a fool—that I even want to try, that I even think maybe this could work. I’m a guy who can’t. A guy who maybe never could. But I won’t be a guy who never will. I will try. I have to see.

For her. For me.

For us.

Once the elevator doors slip open, I only think, find him. Find my dad. There is cowardice in me. Shitty, unbecoming cowardice that could eat the fragile determination I just built. Determination born from hurting the person who means everything to me. How long have I hurt her? How long will I keep hurting her?

It has to stop.

It has to be put to rest. I need off this track. And we just need a new beginning—and God, this might be the only way.

Nothing stuns me or halts me. Not the fancy chandeliers. Not the pricks in suits. Not the enormous Christmas tree decorated in an obscene amount of gold tinsel. Not the stage with the big projected screens that read Hale Co. and Fizzle.

The only thing that briefly stops me is alcohol. I pluck a flute of pink champagne off a tray. Downing the thing in one gulp. Wishing for the taste of bourbon, I grimace but keep moving. Lily trails after me as I snake through hordes of socialites.

I want to hold her hand.

I want to bring her close.

I want to turn away and leave with her. I can’t.

It takes everything in my wretched, god-awful body to avoid her. When she’s all I really want in this second. This moment.

This world.

I have to see this through. Clinging to this fledgling perseverance, my stride lengthens as I spot my father in a crisp tux among other older white men. All cupping glasses of whiskey.

“Lo.” I barely hear Lily as she falls further behind me. I’m sorry, love. It hurts. Everything fucking hurts.

As soon as my dad notices I’m on a path towards him, he shoos the other men away. My face feels brutally set. Like if I shift my jaw or my narrowed eyes, I might break.

He might break me.

His stern expression is what I’ve always known. I’m not cowering, not as he asks, “Have you been avoiding me? You usually stop by on Wednesdays.”

“I’ve been going through some things.”

He scrutinizes me, up-down. “You look fine.”

My eyes burn hotter. He really thinks that? He can look at me and think I’m okay? I want to scream but the words come out leveled. “I’m not fine.” I shake my head repeatedly, more emotion climbing. “I’m not fine, Dad.”

He briefly glances to the left, to the right. Taking in the few onlookers. Yeah, we’re in a public place that represents his company. Hale Co.

My future, right?

“This isn’t the place, Loren. We’ll talk later.”

There is no later. “Something’s wrong with me,” I tell him like this is life or death—and it feels like it is. It feels like if I don’t do this now, it’s over. “Do you hear me? I’m telling you that I’m not okay.”

I don’t imagine him hugging me.

I don’t imagine him nodding and saying, We’ll get you help. You want it. I have the means. Come on, son. I love you, son.

I don’t imagine the impossible.

Apathy courses deeply through my veins, and I never thought some father-son heart-to-heart would change his volatile demeanor or his mind.

He downs the rest of his whiskey, throwing the alcohol into the back of his throat. I watch him place the glass on a nearby high table. My muscles are so stiff they’re vibrating for release. For me to turn and run away.

I stay.

After he rubs his lips, he edges closer to me. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”

I clench my vibrating hands into fists. Just so they’ll stop shaking. “You know that I drink, and you don’t give a shit.”

“That’s what this is about?” His face contorts. “Lo, you’re a fucking twenty-one-year-old man. Of course you drink.”

“I pass out.”

“So have many before you. It’s natural for kids your age to abuse alcohol.”

I don’t listen to him. Even if I love him, I don’t listen to him this time. “I can’t go a day without a drink.”

His lip curls. “Stop trying to find an excuse for your mistakes and own up to them like a goddamn man.”

Lily is behind me. She reaches for my hand, and I jerk away. It’s a knife in my chest. But I can’t hang on to her while I’m facing him.

He’s whisked another glass of whiskey from a server’s tray. He sips and nods to Lily. My pulse spikes the second she’s dragged into this. He glowers at her. “Have you put these thoughts into my son’s head?”

She shrinks backwards.

I speak louder. “I’ve known this since I was a kid. She didn’t have to say anything to me.” Keep her out of this.

“I highly doubt that.”

I grind my teeth, but words are caught in my acidic throat. Once I see Rose embracing Lily with an arm around her waist, my pulse slightly eases. Rose is here.

Ryke suddenly slinks up to my side. He’s catching his breath like he ran over to me, and I feel him rest a hand on my arm. The comfort in his touch is something I’m never going to get from my dad.

Ryke breathes, “Come on, Lo.”

I’m watching my father, and I can’t move. My dad has gone ashy white, his clutch loosening on his whiskey. The way he’s staring at Ryke unsettles every assured thing inside me.

But I know I’m not in The Sixth Sense. Ryke isn’t a ghost. He’s a real person.

A real person that my dad recognizes.

My suspicion is confirmed when my dad finally says, “What are you doing here?”

I frown. “You know each other?”

My dad lets out a small huff. “You didn’t tell him.” He’s speaking only to Ryke, and something brews inside me. Something dark and molten. People are watching. My dad can see, and he downs the last of his second whiskey with a grimace.

Is anyone gonna clue me in here?

I shift my weight. “Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” my dad says with a bitter smile. Setting down the glass, his sharp eyes return to mine. “So is this what you wanted to say to me? You wanted to blame me for your problems and stomp around like a child?”

I could press him about his connection to Ryke. I could forget my plans. I haven’t spoken them out loud yet. I could turn back now and let that fragile determination crumble underneath me.

Ryke never takes his hand off my shoulder. His palm rests easy. Not heavy. Not like lead but like something careful, understanding. Ready.

Ready to be there for me. I know he’s here for me.

And as I stare my dad in the eye, I don’t hate him as much as I hate who I am. “No,” I say softly. “Maybe if this was a story about my teenage years, I’d have done something like that. I just wanted to say that I’m going to get sober.”

I want to be someone I can love.

And I’m going to try.

Another blast from the past! Though we aren't writing any new content in the Addicted/Calloway Sisters timeline, you'll see bonuses in the print editions pop up on Patreon that were once previously here.

Any Addicted bonuses are purely extra extras since they're technically not new, so you'll still be receiving a brand spanking new Extra Bonus and Main Bonus set in the current Cobalt Empire timeline for the month. 😉

xoxo Krista & Becca

"Loren Hale at the Christmas Charity Gala," "Retelling of Chapter 32" Copyright © 2022 by K.B. Ritchie