by S. R. Grey
Where the hell is Chase? I think when Will starts freaking out.
He paces the kitchen floor like a caged animal, muttering things like, “I need to get the fuck out of here. I should be in Vegas. Cassie needs me. She can’t handle this shit on her own. That motherfucker is one sick dude. He needs to be fucking put down.”
The whole time Will is ranting, Jared sits quietly at the table, staring down at his hands, his face obscured by his mop of hair.
Suddenly, surprising both Jared and me, Will skids to a halt. He scrapes back a chair from the table and plops down in it. Then, he whips out his phone and starts to make a call.
“I’m calling the fucking airline and changing my ticket,” he announces.
But when he finds out how much it costs to make a last-minute adjustment to an existing ticket, he disconnects and slams his phone down on the table.
Jared glances from the phone to Will. He mumbles, “Dude, be cool.”
Will ignores Jared and states to no one in particular, “I gotta call my mom.”
He leaves the phone on the table, hits speaker, and dials. When his mom answers, things spiral from bad to worse.
Abby informs her son that not only is she not giving him any money to change his ticket, but his flight home has actually already been changed!
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Will spits.
“Don’t you swear at me, young man,” Abby states calmly.
And then she proceeds to inform her youngest son that she has extended his stay in Harmony Creek. Now Will is not due to fly back to Vegas until mid-August, which is two and a half weeks away.
“Greg and I are booked on a cruise to Mexico that leaves Los Angeles in two days,” she says, dreamily, as if there’s not a care in the world. “We figured, with you gone, this would be the perfect time to travel.”
“Well, it’s not perfect, Mom,” Will says, his voice cracking.
His anger has turned to an emotion I can only describe as despair.
“My life does not revolve around you,” Abby replies dryly. “Anyway, we’re flying to LA tomorrow, so it’s too late to change our plans. Everything is set.”
“You can’t fly to Los Angeles tomorrow,” Will whispers into the phone. “I need to come home, like, today. Why would you do this?”
“I’m sorry, Will, but I have a life to live, too.” His mother sighs. “I thought you were having a good time in Ohio. I figured I was doing something nice in extending your ticket. I thought since you and your brother are getting along so nicely, you’d enjoy the extra time with him.”
“You don’t care about me or Chase,” Will croaks out, defeated. “You always put yourself first, Mom, always.” My heart breaks a little at the depth of sadness in Chase’s brother’s tone. You can just hear how this is breaking him.
But sadness turns to anger when, suddenly, Will snatches the phone up from the table and whips it across the room. The cell whizzes past me and hits the pantry in the corner. It skitters across the linoleum as Will’s fist comes down on the table.
My heart hurts for Will, yes, but I need to take control of the situation before things get too out of hand.
I clear my throat and say in what I hope is an authoritative voice, “Settle down, Will.”
He turns slowly to glare at me. “Really?” His eyes fill with defiance. “Really? And who the fuck are you, Kay? Do you seriously think you have some right to tell me what to do?”
Holding my ground, I reply, “I’m your brother’s girlfriend. And since he’s not here, I’m the closest thing to family.”
Will laughs derisively. “Sorry, Kay, but just because my brother sticks his dick in you doesn’t make you family.”
I am momentarily speechless, not to mention completely saddened. So much for feeling like a part of the Gartner family, the way I felt yesterday at the restaurant. My silly feelings were obviously way off base.
“Will”—Jared glances over at me, his expression apologetic—“that wasn’t cool, dude.”
Will scrapes his chair back and stands up. “Come on,” he says to his friend. “This is bullshit. Let’s get out of here.”
Jared reluctantly stands.
Finding my voice, I say, “Wait, where are you going?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Obviously not Vegas, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
With Jared on his heels, Will starts toward the door. I follow.
“You can’t leave yet,” I say pleadingly. “You should at least wait until your brother comes home.”
Will opens the back door, and Jared steps out.
“Please don’t do this,” I beg Will in a last-ditch effort to stop him.
For a few brief seconds, I think I’ve reached him. He looks as if he might reconsider.
His whole demeanor softens, and he says, “Look, I’m sorry I said that shit to you. It was rude, and I didn’t mean it, okay? You are kind of like a big sister, and, well, big sisters sometimes get shit too, you know?”
I place my hand on his arm. “Will, listen. It’s okay, I understand, I’m fine. But please don’t go. Please just stay until Chase comes home. You can talk to him about everything.”
Will shakes his head and gently pries my hand from his arm. He holds my hand in his grasp, so carefully, so gently, so at odds with his earlier outburst of anger.
My gaze meets his. So many emotions pass in his green eyes—eyes that have seen far too much sadness, betrayal, and loss for such a young age.
Will squeezes my hand lightly before releasing it. “Hey, don’t worry too much. I’ll be back. I’m not running away or anything.”
“What are you going to do?” I whisper. “What should I say to Chase when he returns?”
Will scrubs his hand down his face. “I don’t know. Just tell him I needed to forget for a while, all right?” He sighs, deflated. “Chase is going to be pissed, no doubt, but trust me, Kay, I don’t plan on doing anything my brother hasn’t done a thousand times.”
“That’s what worries me,” I whisper as Will steps out the door.
Chapter Seven
Chase
Just as I am hurrying to finish up with an electrical issue over at the school, all the while hoping I can get home in time to meet Will’s new pal Jared, my cell buzzes. I answer immediately when I see the caller is none other than Nick Mercurio.
“Hey, what’s up?” are the first words out of my mouth.
Getting right down to business, Nick replies, “I’m at Pizza House and thought you might want to know Doug Wilson just placed an order.”
Nick, who has given me the impression he isn’t exactly on board with my plan to corner Doug, alone, to talk with him, suddenly sounds like a fucking coconspirator. Good, I need someone who has my back.
I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. “Great,” I reply. “Can you hold up his order?”
“I can try,” Nick tells me.
“I’m close by, over at the school. But I’m gonna need about ten minutes or so to reach the restaurant.”
“Ten minutes is not a problem. I can do that.” Nick pauses for a beat, like he’s covering all the bases. I guess, in a way, he is, as he adds, “Doug usually parks in the back. There are a few takeout spots. He’s got a silver sedan. A late-model Lincoln. Looks like a company car or something to me.”
“Got it,” I say.
“Okay, then I’ll keep him here long enough for you to get here.”
Our conversation up to this point has been rather stilted, but I relax and say sincerely, “Hey, Nick, thanks. I really appreciate you doing this.”
“You’re just going to talk to him, right?” he asks, wariness creeping into his tone. “I don’t mind helping you, but I don’t want trouble blowing back on me or the restaurant.”
“I have no plans to fuck Doug Wilson up, if that’s what you mean.”
Nick’s silence tells me that’s exactly what he means, so I say reassuringly, “I just need a few minutes alone with him to make
a point.”
“Uh,” Nick lowers his voice, “does this, by chance, have something to do with Kay?”
Nick is still hot for my girl, but she’s mine, so I see no point in being dishonest.
“Yeah,” I retort, “it has something to do with Kay.”
“Okay, man.” Nick sounds like he’s back on board. “I’m going to trust you on this.”
He’s about to disconnect, but I have one more thing to say.
“Hey, Nick, hold up a sec.”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“If you happen to run into Kay, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything about me wanting to talk to Doug alone—and definitely nothing about today specifically.”
Nick is quiet for a beat, but then says, “Yeah, sure. She won’t hear anything from me.”
Everything is set, time to go. There is one more thing, though. I don’t want Kay to catch me leaving the church grounds. She’s expecting me to head home early to meet Jared, but with Nick’s call coming in, that plan is out the window.
I check the time on my phone. It’s after four, and there’s a good chance of running into Kay in the parking lot. Lucky for me, though, when I walk out of the school, the coast is clear. Kay’s car is in its usual parking spot, but my girl is nowhere to be seen.
I hop into my truck without delay, but before I drive away, I decide to turn off my phone. I don’t need Kay calling me while I’m setting her ex-boyfriend straight, especially since I plan to keep this little excursion to myself.
I am pretty calm driving to Pizza House, but I begin to slip into a shitty mood when I’m a couple of blocks away. This fucking day hasn’t gone as I’d anticipated. Maybe if I’m quick with Doug, I can get back on track. Maybe I can make it back to the house before Will’s new friend leaves.
I don’t know why I’m so worked up about a teenager, but I just have this strong feeling that I should make sure this Jared guy isn’t trouble. His being from a family with money means shit. Back in my drug days, some of the biggest hell-raisers and hardest users I knew came from wealthy families. I sure don’t want Will hanging out with someone shady like that.
When I reach the old yellow-and-green frame building with the pizza house sign out front, I signal and slowly turn into the lot. In the back, just as Nick has said, Doug’s silver car is parked in a takeout spot.
I make sure I park right the fuck next to it.
A few quiet minutes pass, and then dickhead Doug comes sauntering around the side of the building, not a care in the world, just a pizza box in hand. Little does he know, I’m about to change that carefree bullshit attitude.
Just as Doug reaches his driver’s side door, I step down from my truck. He looks my way and recognizes me immediately.
“Hey, look,” he stammers as he slowly backs away, “I know who you are”—No shit—“and I don’t want any trouble.”
He looks like he might just piss his fancy khaki pants, so I hold up my hands in a placating kind of way. “I don’t want any trouble, either. I just want to talk to you, man,” I try to assure him.
Guess Doug doesn’t believe me. The pizza box drops to the ground, and he attempts to flee. But he only makes it a few feet before I have him pinned up against his car door.
His shifty eyes dart from side to side, and, in response, I say in a low voice, “There’s no one around to help you, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
Standing this close to the guy whose actions led to Kay’s little sister’s death, I feel like exploding. It takes everything I have not to lay him the fuck out. But I promised Nick. And more important, I promised myself. I am not the same man I once was. I’m trying to change. And aside from the episode with the junkie who jumped Kay, I’ve cleaned up my act. No more fucking people up, no more taking a chance on getting caught and going back to prison, especially for something stupid like assault.
Considering all this, I loosen my hold on Kay’s ex.
“What’s this all about?” Doug squeaks out. “I got no problems with you.”
I chuckle. “That’s not exactly true.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he protests, sweat beading on his brow.
“Well, let me enlighten you. I heard about your little plan to contact Kay.”
Doug blanches. “Oh…um…uh…”
I laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. I know what you intend to do…and it’s not happening. Kay doesn’t need you searching her out, dredging up shit that happened four years ago, and throwing around a bunch of empty apologies.”
This man who used to get off on upsetting the woman I love starts to shake. “Okay, I won’t do it,” he says. “I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll stay away from her.”
With my hand fisted in his pressed polo shirt, I yank him to me and then shove him back, hard, against the car. I want so badly to break his fucking face, but I settle for just holding him in place.
“You better fucking stay away,” I growl. “Or next time, we’ll be doing more than just talking. Got it?”
I let go and step back. Doug nods and nods, like some preppy bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I got it,” he states in a quivering tone. “I won’t go near her—ever.”
“I think I might just believe you, you preppy motherfucker.”
Doug ignores my insult. He’s too busy straightening the clothes I’ve wrinkled.
I take him in. And then I glance down at myself, my paint-stained jeans, my faded black T-shirt, the ink exposed where the short sleeves end.
When I shake my head and make a scoffing sound, Doug says, “What? I said I’d stay away.”
“Just get the fuck out of my face,” I mumble. I’m already tired of dealing with this douche.
Doug fumbles with his keys, but I notice he never makes a move to pick up the pizza box from the ground. He just gets in his car and takes off.
Rich, littering motherfucker.
I walk over to the dropped pizza box, pick it up, and toss it in a Dumpster.
Then I get in my truck.
But I don’t leave right away.
I know, despite all my faults, I am a better person than Doug Wilson. I’d never hurt Kay the way he did. But seeing him dressed like some upper-middle-class dude that has made something of his life leaves me feeling unworthy of my girl. Kay deserves so much more than what I’ll ever be able to give her. And based on the things I’m still compelled to do, like intimidate the fuck out of her ex-boyfriend, I am apt to say Kay is too good for me. She is kind and purehearted. Me? I’m a different story. I remain what I’ve always been—fucked up. I’ll forever be damaged—a former druggie and an ex-con. For as much as I try to fool myself that I’ve become someone different, and I have in some ways, there’s a part of me that will always be the kind of man who settles things with his fists, the kind of man who’s not above using his strength and power to intimidate.
I sit in the truck for a while, riding out all these unsettling feelings until I feel closer to right than wrong. When I finally turn the key in the ignition, ready to go home, I power my cell back on.
And that’s when I discover I have six frantic messages from Kay.
Fucking hell.
Kay’s increasingly panicked messages get me up to speed on all I’ve missed, which is a hell of a lot, including Cassie’s urgent call to Kay about her stepdad tailing her, then her call to Will relating the same information, and finally, Will’s (not surprising) subsequent meltdown.
I call Kay on the ride home, and understandably, she’s a wreck.
“Will’s gone,” she sobs. “Chase, I have no idea where he went. I tried to talk him out of leaving, but he took off with Jared.” She pauses, sniffles, and tentatively asks, “Where were you, anyway? I thought you were coming home early.”
“Uh, something came up.”
“Like what?”
“Just something,” I hedge.
Slowly, Kay asks, “Is everything all right, Chase?”
“Yeah, everything�
��s fine—now.” I sigh. “I’ll be home soon, babe. I’m on my way. Maybe my brother will change his mind and come back. Then we can get this clusterfuck straightened out sooner rather than later.”
I hope I’m right, but of course, I’m not. When I arrive at the house, Will’s not yet returned. There’s no straightening out to do, not just yet. Kay fills me in again on everything I’ve missed, just in case she’s forgotten something in all the messages she left.
We’re both too wound up to eat, so we skip dinner and settle in on the couch in the living room.
And then the wait begins for Will to return, a wait and a watch of the clock.
As time passes, Kay and I slowly lean into each other, her shoulder to mine. We eye the grandfather clock in the corner, watching minutes, then hours, tick away. It’s like we’re these substitute parents of my mixed-up brother, trying to navigate these uncertain waters, these thrust-upon-us roles.
Kay holds the cell Will threw across the kitchen in her lap. He never bothered to pick it up and take it with him. The phone is banged up, but it still works. We found Jared’s number in the contacts awhile ago, and we’ve tried to reach him too many times to count. He has yet to answer.
“Should I try him again?” Kay asks, holding up the phone.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sure, why not?”
Kay hits Call for the umpteenth time, and like every time before, no one picks up.
“Should we call the police?” Kay says as she slides the phone onto the coffee table.
“Fuck no.”
That is the last thing I care to do. Involving law enforcement in my life—or Will’s—is a last resort. With my background, there’s no love lost between the police and me.
“But, Chase, what if he doesn’t come back tonight?”
“He will,” I assure her. But, really, I don’t know any more than she does.