It had been easier than he imagined it would be.. quieter. Rehab was one of those things Killian had heard about but never witnessed, bits of conversation whispered in the dark on cold nights at the warehouse... hints of some place you were forced to go in return for gettinâ caught, not some place you wanted to go.  But he had wanted to. Had to remind himself of that fact a million times on the drive, aye ... but as he slid out of the black Evoque, fingers wrapped around the strap of his bag as he hoisted it to his shoulder, Killian had felt a strange sense of calm. He wanted this ... as stupid as that may have been.Â
They hadnât yelled at him, arrested him on sight or even searched him. He had stood quietly, drumming his fingertips on the countertop as Guy filled out paperwork and letting his gaze wander around the room until blue eyes landed on the irritated expression of the woman sitting behind the desk. He switched to biting at the skin around his thumb after that. All too soon Guy had finished â fuckinâ copper, couldnât miss a chance to show off his paperwork skills, could he? â and they had been shown to his room, the stark walls and one lonely window reminding the Irishman he wasnât exactly in the life of luxury anymore.
It wasnât bad, not really. The beds were comfortable and the fact he got to keep his cell phone made beinâ away from home a hell of a lot bloody easier. There was even a pool. Granted, it served smoothies and not the alcohol  he was desperately craving by the end of the first day, but by the end of the week he had decided even those werenât so bad. He had survived, had made it seven days without losing his mind or begging Guy to let him come back home...
There was somethinâ about all those group talks though .. Christ. Sometimes a guy just needed some time by himself. Now, as he strode around the courtyard, fingers picking absentmindedly at each other as he tried to ignore how bored he was and focus instead on the fact he finally had some bloody peace, Killian paused, sniffing at the air. It was quiet, most everyone else was in a session or at dinner .. but there was a definite smell of cigarette smoke in the air. The faintest hint that made the Irishmanâs fingers twitch and heart thump in anticipation. Heâd kill for somethinâ stronger... but a cigarette...aye, thatâd do.
Long strides took him around the path, the smell growing stronger until he turned a corner behind the building that held the towels and other pool and spa equipment, blue eyes setting on a woman in front of him who was too busy enjoying her latest exhale to pay him any attention.Â
âI think this goes along with that whole hiding somethinâ is a lie speech we got this morning.. â Lips twitched in a grin as he stepped closer, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from taking it from her. Christ. He set himself to studying her, determined to stay focused on something else instead. She was in a few of his classes or whatever the fuck they called them here ... didnât talk much and usually sat in the corner lookinâ like she had smelled something pretty rough. Killian was willing to bet she was one of those people who hadnât wanted to be here....
Fingers reached to scratch the back of his neck as he settled against the rough brick building opposite her, one brow rising in interest.   âGirls like you never struck me as the do bad type, princess.â