Off the Record

by T.D. Colbert

“What did you mean when you said Dax saved your life?” I ask him. He looks up at me again, and I can see his grip tightening around the steering wheel. “If you don’t mind me asking,” I add. He sighs. “This isn’t for the article or anything?” he asks. I shake my head. “Absolutely not,” I say, holding up my hands to show him that no part of this conversation is being documented. “A little over a year ago, I was almost dead. I had OD’ed for the second time.” My eyes widen. “My cousin used to do landscaping at Dax’s place. He was telling a coworker about me, and Dax happened to overhear. He walked right up to him and asked about me, where I was, my age. And the next thing I know, I’m sent to the Bright Side Rehab Facility—on Dax’s dime. When I got clean, he told me he had a friend that owned a private security company. He put in a word for me, and I got the job. They assigned me to Dax for a year or two to help me get on my feet. And that’s exactly what he’s done. He doesn’t need someone driving him around. But he lets me do it for me.”