I was seventeen and bordering on alcoholic. I’d drink whatever I could find just to numb the pain for a little while. But it always came back, accompanied by a hangover so brutal, I’d rather take an ice pick through the eye. So he got me help. From the other side of the country, he worked his magic and paid up my back rent. Kept me off the radar of the local Department of Family and Children Services. Loch found a therapist that specialized in post-traumatic stress disorder, and kept me accountable every step of the way. He purchased a condo close by, since we weren't sure where we wanted to
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