Never Doubt Me (12 page)

With our knees touching and our hands now interlocked, my sweet girl smiles this tiny but absolutely adorable smile. “Yeah, maybe,” she agrees, her voice as soft as she.

We sit quietly a moment, then Kay asks, “What should we do now? I mean, with Will, after he comes home.”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Cassie’s stepdad is going to continue to be a problem,” she states.

I blow out a frustrated breath. Kay is right. A guy like Paul isn’t going to stop until he gets what he wants, which, in this case, is Will’s girlfriend.

Fuck.
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees.

“That guy needs to be locked up. That would solve the problem.”

“Unfortunately,” Kay says, “that’s not going to happen unless he does something more than follow Cassie around.”

“Her mom could always file a restraining order,” I suggest. “That would be a good first step.”

Kay sighs. “Yeah, I agree. I actually said the same thing to Cassie when she told me what happened.”

But Kay knows the same as I: a restraining order is only a temporary fix to what appears to be a permanent problem.

I scrub my hand down my face. “And then there’s Will. He’s not going to let up on going home.”

“But he can’t go back to Vegas,” Kay says. “No one is at the house. He can’t stay alone. God knows what he’d do. Your mom won’t be back from that cruise for almost three more weeks.”

“Ah, yes,” I say, “the other surprise of the day, courtesy of dear Mom.”

Kay sighs, and I mutter, “Fucking Abby. I knew she’d pull something like this. She was gunning for Will to spend the rest of the summer in Ohio way back in June. Guess she saw her chance and grabbed it.”

“Guess so,” Kay says while shaking her head.

We lose ourselves in our own thoughts for several minutes, but then Kay yawns. She looks over at me, and I lean back into the corner of the sofa and make a spot so she can curl up with me.

As she crawls into my arms, I say, “Just get some rest. It’s after midnight. Will has to come home eventually.”

Kay dozes off, and some time later, as I predicted, Will stumbles through the front door. I don’t see him, since I’m in the living room, but I sure as hell hear him. Spare change falls on the hardwood floor, while Will curses up a storm. Next, I hear him kicking off his shoes.

When he bumps into something, he shouts, “Fucking hell.”

I don’t have to witness all that shit to surmise my little brother is totally fucked up.

I ease my arm out from under Kay, smooth back her hair, and kiss her on the forehead while she sleeps. Then I go out to the hall to see just how annihilated my brother is.

As it turns out, Will is pretty far gone. He’s stumbling up the stairs, barely navigating each step.

I go to my brother before he loses his balance and tumbles backward. All I need is for him to break his fucking neck.

I offer him a steadying arm, say, “Come on, Will, let’s get you to bed.”

He leans into me, and I smell alcohol and weed. “You don’t wanna talk?” he slurs.

“Not when you’re high and drunk,” I reply. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Will says, not sounding apologetic at all. When we get to the top of the stairs, he adds, “Hey, I gotta take a piss.”

I maneuver Will to the bathroom, close the door to give him some privacy, and wait for him in the hall. I hear him pissing, but when the stream stops and he doesn’t come out, I panic.

Frantically knocking on the door, I yell, “Hey, everything okay in there?”

For these couple of crazy seconds, I imagine Will in the bathroom, cutting up a big rock of coke—just like I used to do. That’s enough to prompt me to bang on the door with more fervor.

“Will, open the fuck up.”

When my brother finally swings the door open, I push past him and rush into the bathroom. To my relief, there’s no coke. At least, there’s none in sight.

I turn to Will. He’s stripped down to his boxers and wavering on unsteady legs.

“I don’t feel so good,” he slurs. His bleary, green eyes try to focus on me.

Shit, I know that look
. I get him to the toilet just in time.

Will pukes and pukes. And midway through all the retching, there’s a knock on the door.

“Don’t let her see me like this,” Will mumbles, and then I open the door a crack.

“Do you need anything?” Kay asks.

“No, he’s just sick. He’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Okay. I’m going to bed, then.”

I lean forward, open the door another inch more, and then place a soft kiss on her lips. “Go get some sleep, Kay. I’ve got this covered.” I jerk my head toward the sounds of retching. “Looks like it’ll be awhile.”

Kay tells me I’m a good brother, taking care of Will like this. Then she heads down the hall. Meanwhile, Will is croaking out my name. So I turn my attention back to my sick brother.

After he’s puked out most of what he’s ingested, I help him clean up.

Despite all the vomiting, Will is still fucked up. He needs help to his room and assistance getting into bed. Once he’s settled, I turn on a lamp in case he has to get up. I also cover him with a light blanket.

When I start to leave, though, Will pleads for me to stay. “Please,” he whispers, “just for a little while.”

“Sure.” I step back over to the bed and sit down on the edge.

“Mom’s a bitch,” Will suddenly blurts out, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but still somewhat unfocused. “She set this up. That’s why she said I could stay the extra week.”

Will is probably right, but I say nothing one way or the other.

“You think Cassie will be all right?” he asks, his voice tight. “I mean, since I’m obviously going to be stuck here in Ohio for a while.”

Raking my fingers through my hair, I say, “I don’t know, Will. But I think her mom and her uncle are capable of handling things out there.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Since I have my brother talking, I ask, “Where’d you go tonight? Who gave you the booze and weed?”

Will glances at me, then returns to staring at the ceiling. “We went to a party,” he says offhandedly. “Just some dude Jared kind of knows.”

“Will…” I blow out a breath. “Look, I know you’re not a child. But I can’t have you staying here and going out partying. No one even knew where you ran off t—”

“Bro,” Will cuts me off, “it’s not like I was at some stranger’s house. The guy who was having the party said he knew you.”

Will eyes me now, his stare penetrating, asking the question of whether I’ve been the one lying here. Even though I’m pretty fucking sure I know whose house my little brother was partying in tonight, I still feel compelled to ask, “Who was this guy? Where was his house?”

“It was in some shitty part of town,” Will replies, making my chest tighten. “Jared said the house belongs to some guy named Kyle.”

I close my eyes and count to ten. I need to count to something more like three hundred if calming down is the goal.

“Christ, Will, stay the fuck away from Kyle Tanner.”

His bleary eyes narrow. “Ha, so you do know him.”

“Yeah, I know him, all right.”

Will shoots me a curious glance.

“From a long fucking time ago, okay?” I add.

“Not what he said, bro.”

“Oh yeah?” Now I’m getting pissed. “And just what did that prick have to say?”

“He said you were at his house just a couple of Fridays ago, said you smoked with him. Some girl told me you went upstairs with Kyle that night. She said Kyle only goes up to the bathroom when he’s cutting coke.” Will eyes me up and down. “You lecture me all the time about drugs,” he snorts. “And, all the while, you’re still using.”

Fucking Kyle and his big-mouth party friends. What am I supposed to tell Will? The night my brother is referring to is the night he blew me off, the night he was supposed to come to Ohio. I did smoke that night, I can’t deny it. But I didn’t touch the cocaine. I came close, true, but I stopped before it ever went up my nose.

I take a breath and tell Will the truth.

“So you really didn’t touch the coke?” he asks disbelievingly, like he knows how much of a hold that shit used to have over me.

Wow, that shit saddens me. Though I made every attempt in the past to keep my heavy drug use from my brother, he obviously knew all along just how deeply involved I was. And he knew enough to ascertain cocaine was my biggest demon. He’s mentioned it before, but tonight I get that he actually always knew how bad off I was.

My eyes meet my brother’s. “Yeah, Will, this time, I really didn’t touch the coke.”

My brother then breaks my heart a little when he sighs and says, “I’ve done it, you know.”

“Coke?” I croak out.

He nods. “Yeah, once… No, actually, I tried it twice.”

“Fuck, Will.” I shake my head.

“I didn’t do any tonight, if that’s what you’re thinking. I could have. It was there. But the two times I tried it was back in Vegas. Once, I did it with Cass, and the other time, I snorted some at a party.”

My brother is fifteen years old and snorting cocaine with his girlfriend, and at parties. I have to try to talk some sense into him. Maybe I’ll get through to him, maybe I won’t, but I have to try.

“Will,” I begin, “no matter what you do, you absolutely have to stay away from coke. That shit will fuck you up, you and Cassie both. Whatever you think is bad now, it will be a million times worse when you start adding cocaine to the equation.”

“Well, Cassie didn’t like it,” Will says. “So she’s done with it. And I wasn’t all that impressed with it, either. But even if I try it again, I’d never let myself get under it.”

Will is such an innocent in so many ways. He has no fucking clue.

“It doesn’t work like that. I know you’re young and want to try things. But you’re going to end up with less than what you started with if you start messing with hard drugs. I’ve been there, kid, you know I have. I know what I’m talking about.”

Will solemnly nods. “I know, Chase, I know.”

“So?” I prompt.

“So, okay, I’ll stay away from the hard shit.”

“Promise?”

Will promises, but his eyes skitter away so quickly that I have to wonder if he’ll be keeping his promise for long.

All I can do is hope and pray that my brother doesn’t succumb to the same demons that robbed me of four years of my life.

Chapter Eight

Kay

T
he morning following Chase’s brother’s evening of revelry, I feel like I am the one who was out partying the night before. But for tired as I feel, it doesn’t come close to how exhausted Chase appears to be as I drive us in to work.

Poor guy, he was up half the night with his brother. Chase didn’t come to bed until an hour before we had to get up. He couldn’t really sleep, so we talked. He told me seeing Will messed up like that hit a little too close to home. Since he was so tired, I decided not to question him about where he was yesterday when I couldn’t get a hold of him. And, once again, I choose not to ask him now. He’s had a rough enough past twelve hours.

So instead of an interrogation, I gently ask, “Are you working on that electrical problem in the school again today?”

I turn into the church parking lot, and Chase continues to do what he’s done the whole ride to work. He stares out the side window, seemingly lost in thought.

I repeat the question, a tad louder this time, and he replies, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you. Uh, I finished that project. But I think Father Maridale has something for me to do in the rectory today.”

“Figures.” I laugh. “The one time I won’t be in the rectory office, and you’ll be right down the hall from where I’d normally be sitting.”

“That’s right,” Chase says, stifling a yawn. “I forgot you’ll be in the school gym all day. Organizing stuff for the rummage sale, yeah?”

“Yep.” I place my dilapidated Neon in park and turn off the ignition. “Me and Missy, sorting and pricing all the things people have been bringing in.” I twirl my finger, and add sarcastically, “Woo-hoo.”

I don’t mind working with Missy, but sorting through a multitude of boxes and bags filled with donated items promises to be tedious.

“You and Missy, eh?” Chase chuckles. “Try not to kill each other.”

“Hey.” I smack his arm. “I think she and I are past that, smart-ass.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs distractedly. Chase’s attention is starting to waver again. “That’s good, babe.”

I know Chase is worried about Will, especially since we have to leave him all alone out at the farmhouse today.

“Hey, your brother will be all right.” I place my hand on his forearm. “He’ll probably just sleep all day. He has to still be hurting. Nursing a colossal hangover, I imagine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Chase replies. “But I’d just feel better if we could wrap up early and get back to the house.”

“Yeah, sure.” I nod. “Of course.”

Chase and I eventually go our separate ways, with him heading to the rectory and me meeting up with Missy in the school gym.

In the gym, Missy and I accomplish a lot in getting things ready for the rummage sale. Together, we sort through dozens of bags and boxes, each one overflowing with an assortment of items. Clothes, appliances, knickknacks—you name it, we come across it. We find a kind of rhythm of sort and price, sort and price, and then, at one point, as we’re kneeling on the gymnasium floor we come across a big box filled with baby clothes.

“Aw, Kay, check this out.” Missy shakes out and holds up a tiny blue onesie with tumbling and romping puppies adorning the soft-looking fabric.

I reach out and touch the material. It’s soft as can be. When I rub my thumb across a rolling-over puppy, I coo, “This is so precious, Missy.”

Missy folds the adorable onesie and places it on the floor. She continues to dig through the box. “There are so many cute things in here,” she gushes. “Damn, I wish I could have some of this stuff for when the baby arrives.”

I pause and sit back on my heels. “You know, I’m sure Father Maridale won’t mind if you set a few things aside. You know how generous he is. I bet if you ask him he’ll say, ‘sure, take whatever you want.’”

Missy shrugs and starts to put baby clothes back in the box. “Yeah, maybe,” she mumbles.

I assume her reticence means she hasn’t yet told Father Maridale about her pregnancy.

“Missy, you have to tell Father Maridale eventually. He’s bound to find out.” I gesture to her still-flat tummy, covered by a dress far more conservative than the strappy sundress I have on today. “Your stomach won’t stay flat like that for long, and he’ll know for sure then.”

“He already knows, Kay,” Missy replies softly.

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Confession,” she states. “I went last week. So, yeah, he knows.”

I reach over and touch her hand. “Speaking of confession, Missy, have you talked to Tony yet? Does he know he’s the father of your baby?”

She shakes her head and focuses back on the baby clothes.

“Missy?” I prompt, squeezing her hand before releasing. “Are you ever going to tell him? I think it might be better to get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Yeah,” she says on a sigh, “you’re right. And I’ll talk to him soon. I guess I’m still just not quite ready.”

Something is off with Missy. But since I have no clue what all she’s going through, I let it drop.

The rest of the afternoon flies by. Father Maridale stops in to check on our progress. He, of course, gives Missy the green light to keep the baby clothes she’s picked out. And since we’re pretty much done sorting and pricing, he tells us we can go home for the day.

I text Chase to let him know I’m done early.

Great, I’m outta here too. Meet you by your car in five.

Missy and I walk out to the parking lot together. I offer to help her carry the baby clothes she’s stuffed into a big plastic bag, but she insists she’s got it.

As we near my Neon, I notice Missy’s car is only a few spots away. I then notice Chase has arrived. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door of my car, looking delicious.

Damn, Chase is exceptionally hot in his faded jeans and snug black T-shirt. And working over in the rectory all day must have involved some heavy lifting, because the muscles in his arms bulge, all hard and ripped, as he fidgets with his phone.

Chase pays no heed to our approach—or my perusal of his body. He’s too preoccupied with texting or something.

“Hey,” I call out, garnering his attention.

He lifts his head and slips his phone into his back pocket. He then starts to smile but falters when he notices Missy is with me.

“Hey,” he says flatly when Missy and I reach him.

Missy places her bag of baby clothes on the ground and quietly mumbles, “Hi, Chase.”

She crosses her arms, while Chase squints and looks up at the sky.

“Oh, Lord,” I lament.

This is the first interaction the two of them have had since the night at the carnival, the night I overheard them arguing and, consequently, found out they’d hooked up. But if I can get past what happened between them—which I have—then they surely can, too.

I go on to state those exact words, eliciting two surprised expressions. But I get my point across. The tension begins to lift, and soon enough, the three of us are chatting about the rummage sale.

When the conversation falters, though, Missy says softly, “Well, I guess I better get going.”

I catch Chase’s eye and nod to the plastic bag on the ground.

He catches on quickly and says to Missy, “Hey, you want me to carry that over to your car? It looks kind of heavy.”

“Oh, okay.” She appears genuinely surprised, but also pleased. “Thanks.”

Chase hoists the bag up with ease and heads toward Missy’s car. Missy hangs back, and when I glance her way, she suddenly throws her arms around me.

“Whoa, what was that for?” I ask, taking a step back when she finally lets go.

“Sorry.” She giggles. “I get a little carried away with the pregnancy hormones and all, but I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything, Kay,” Missy says, sighing contentedly. “For being so nice to me, for forgiving me”—she lowers her voice—“for getting Chase to forgive me.”

Before I can respond that there’s no need to thank me, Chase turns around and yells over for Missy to pop open the trunk. Two minutes later, Chase is back. Missy says good-bye and walks over to her car, and Chase and I take off.

When we arrive back at the house, to both my surprise and Chase’s, Will is up and about. He doesn’t appear to be sleepy or hungover—at all. In fact, he’s downright lively for a kid that, by all rights, should be recovering from his night of hard partying.

But, no, Will is seated at the kitchen table, earbuds in his ears, husking fresh cobs of corn while his foot taps to the beat. He adds an ear he’s just shucked to a huge pile of husked corn that covers the entire surface of the table. He then promptly picks up another.

Chase and I skid to a stop in the entryway to the kitchen, and when Will catches sight of us, he takes out his earbuds and says loudly, “Hey, you’re home.”

Before either Chase or I can respond, Will continues to talk, his speech rapid.

“Yeah, so you’re probably wondering what I’m doing, huh? See, there was this farmer selling corn at a stand on the side of the road, so I bought a bunch.” He holds an ear aloft. “Can’t get shit like this back in the fucking desert.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of corn,” I say as I realize that, apart from the corn on the table, there are two more bagfuls under the table.

Chase doesn’t comment on the corn, though I know he notices all of it. Instead, though, he leans against the doorjamb, crosses his arms, and says to Will, “You went out?”

Will nods as he absently plucks silk off a cob he’s just shucked.

“You were supposed to stay in today,” Chase continues tightly, “stick around the house.”

Will returns to the shucking, his fingers working faster than ever. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “But Jared stopped by, and we decided to go out for a while.”

Chase’s eyes meet mine. There’s worry in his blues. And why wouldn’t there be? Will went out with Jared today, just like last night, and also like last night, Will’s behavior is indicative of being high on something.

“So, where’d you go?” Chase asks his brother.

Will’s fingers falter, but his eyes remain on his task. “Uh, just out.”

When Will resumes shucking, his legs start to bounce.

Chase whispers to me that he wants to check Will’s room for drugs, see if he can find anything that might help him figure out what Will is on.

I nod once, and he then comments loudly enough for Will to hear that he’s going up to the bathroom and that he’ll be right back.

When Chase is out of sight, I head into the kitchen, hoping to keep Will occupied.

I open the refrigerator door, and say, “Well, since we have plenty of corn, how ’bout we pick out something to go with it?” I grab a package of hot dogs and hold them up above the door so Will can see. “Hot dogs work for you? We can grill them.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replies. “In fact, I can get the grill started, if you want.”

“Sure, give me a sec.”

I cut open the package of hot dogs and put some water on for the corn to boil. After I place the wieners on a plate, I hold them out to Will. When his hand touches the plate, his eyes meet mine. His usually clear green eyes are dark, dilated, and bloodshot.

Quickly, he averts his gaze.

I draw back the plate. “Wait.”

“What?” Will’s eyes dart around the kitchen, all skittish-like.

I touch his shoulder. He has on a thin tee, and I immediately feel how hot his skin is beneath the cotton. “What’d you take?” I ask. “Were you and Jared snorting cocaine?”

Will shakes his head. “No.”

“Please don’t lie,” I whisper. “You know this is killing your brother.”

“It wasn’t coke, okay?” he huffs. “We took some speed.”

“Like, amphetamines?”

“Yeah.”

“From Kyle Tanner?”

Will nods. He reaches for the plate of hot dogs again, and this time, I let him have it. He doesn’t say anything else, just heads out to the back porch. After a minute, I hear him messing with the grill.

I sink down into a chair near the table and pick up an ear of corn.

Damn. I know in my heart that, when Chase finds out Will was buying drugs from Kyle Tanner
again
, he
will
go talk to his former dealer. And I hate that I won’t be able to stop him. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Kyle is bad news—for both Gartner brothers.

Chase walks back into the kitchen just as I’m absently toying with a pile of corn silk on the table.

“I didn’t find anything,” he says. “But I know Will’s on something.”

I watch as Chase walks over to the refrigerator.

When he opens the door, I tell him what Will shared with me. “You’re right, Chase,” I say, sighing. “Will is on something. But it’s not cocaine.”

Chase’s hand on the top of the refrigerator door tightens, but he doesn’t look up. I stand immediately and go to him. I touch his back, rub his shoulders. I’m trying to do anything to make all this awfulness just a little less horrible.

And it works, a little. Chase relaxes slightly. He turns around, and the refrigerator door closes softly.

“What’d he take?” he asks flatly.

“Amphetamines.”

Chase rubs his hand down his face. “Christ.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll get through this.”

I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, but I know Chase needs some kind of reassurance right now.

And, as I expected, Chase declares, “I have to talk to fucking Kyle Tanner. Will’s in town for two and a half more weeks. I need to nip this shit in the bud before things get out of hand.”

“I know.” I touch Chase’s chest, the outline of his pecs so defined beneath the cotton. His body is so hard, but his heart is so soft. “Just be careful, okay?”

Chase catches my hand and holds it tightly. “Don’t worry, Kay, there’s not going to be any violence. But I will be making sure I get through to that motherfucker.”

Despite his trying to soothe my fears, I have a bad feeling. All I know is that Chase calling on Kyle—violence or not—never results in anything good. Last time he spent time with his former drug dealer, Chase ended up drinking, smoking weed, and coming dangerously close to snorting cocaine.

But he has to do this. I know that.