Page 12 of Scarred Sunrise

Chapter 6

Smithy wokearound seven after only two hours sleep, his mind struggling to catch up with where he was for a few seconds until the previous night’s events came flooding back. Swinging his legs over the bed in the Fortis bunk room, he rubbed the weariness from his eyes. He felt exhaustion pull at his body, but his mind felt sharper, stronger, as if deciding to get some help had already improved his mental health.

He showered and moved to the small kitchen to grab a cup of strong tea, popping two slices of bread in the toaster as he waited for the kettle to boil. As soon as the clock hit eight he was going to call Lawson and see if she’d see him today. Having made a choice to get better, he wanted to get started. He was under no illusion that it would be easy or that he wouldn’t have days when he wanted to quit, but he was determined to prove to everyone who’d supported him that he was worth it; most especially Lizzie.

Buttering the toast, he added lime marmalade, which Zin kept in the fridge for when he wanted a snack, the Russian having a liking for the English preserve. He took a sip of the strong tea as the door opened and Zack walked in followed by Jace.

Zack strode to the kettle and reaching in, poured himself a cup before doing the same for Jace. Zack cast him a side look. “You get any sleep?”

Smithy shrugged. “Some. Enough.”

Zack nodded as he brought his cup to the table. “We have a meeting at eight-fifteen, to de-brief. We need everything you have so we can get this sewn up and finished.”

Smithy noticed the fatigue around Zack’s eyes and glanced at Jace to see the same look on his friend’s face.

He and Jace had been close before the kidnapping, but between his guilt and Jace’s guilt for getting away, their friendship had suffered, and he was more than ready to make it right.

“I’ll tell you everything you need, but I need to make a call to Peyton Lawson first.”

Jace, who had been studying his cup, looked up sharply. “You seeing her about your… um… issues?”

Smithy chuckled, the first honest laugh in a long time. “You can say the words, Jace. You can’t catch PTSD from saying it.”

Jace had the grace to look sheepish. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Quit worrying, Jace. I know what you meant, and yes, I need some help to deal with the shit in my head before it ruins my life beyond repair.” His lips thinned as his thoughts turned more serious. “I’ve hurt a lot of people, and I don’t mean while I was under the influence of the drugs, although god knows I did that too. I mean my attitude since hasn’t been the best. I pushed everyone away, hurt those who tried to help, and that’s on me. I need to fix it, and the only way I can do that is to get some help.”

Jace nodded, and Zack clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re getting what you need. Let me know what Fortis can do and consider it done.”

“Thank you, but what I need is to be involved and get this bitch locked up where she belongs.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. I think we’re all more than ready for this shit to be over.”

“A-fucking-men, I don’t want my child born under this cloud.”

Zack looked at his watch and then stood, going to dump his cup in the sink. “See you in there.”

Jace followed him out, and Smithy looked at his phone. Eight o’clock on the dot, he dialled the number from the card Mara had given him and waited, his belly in knots as the toast he’d eaten roiled in his nervous stomach.

“Lawson.” The voice was warm but professional and gave him the confidence to make this appointment.

“Dr Lawson, it’s Whittaker Smith. You probably don’t remember me.”

“No, I do. It’s good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”

She was forcing him to take this step on his own, and as he said the words, it felt good to do it. “I need your help. I can’t do this on my own.”

“Then you came to the right place.” She paused a second, as if weighing her words. “I can help you, Whittaker.”

“No, Smithy, please.”

“Okay. I can help you, Smithy, but you need to understand this won’t be easy. You’ll probably have setbacks, but we’ll get you there, as long as you’re doing this for the right reason.”

“And what is the right reason?”

“You, Smithy. That’s the only reason. You have to want this for you. Not for someone else or because you feel pressured into it. You need to be in the right headspace, and only you know that.”

He gave it some thought, going over the last six months where he felt like he was spiralling out of control. Then he thought about Lizzie and his friends. Not once had they asked or told him to get help. Encouraged, supported, but never pressured, they’d all wanted the best for him. It was only Lizzie walking away that made him realise he wanted to get better, to learn how to live with what had happened to him.