by S. R. Grey
It’s bullshit. Will’s not coming home. Not without some forceful encouragement. But Mom plays along and pretends to agree. “Yeah, you’re right, Chase. I’ll stay here.” Her tone is flat. She’s given up already.
And that is how we leave my mother—in the entry hall, wanting to be a good mother but not knowing how.
For as much as some things change, other things remain the same.
Out by the rental car, Kay stops me. Her arms go around me, comforting. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses my lips.
When she lowers herself to her diminutive size, she looks up at me, and says, “I love you, Chase.”
I reach out and caress her cheek with my knuckles. “I love you too, babe.”
I need this woman, always.
Fifteen minutes later, we are knocking on Cassie’s front door. There’s no sign of Mrs. Sutter’s car in the driveway. Home from work by four, my ass. The other thing I find odd is Cassie’s car is not here either.
Hmm…
I glance at Kay and find her staring over at the empty driveway, same as me.
“Maybe they went somewhere,” she offers.
“Yeah, maybe,” I respond. I sound unconvincing, even to my own ears.
Just then the front door swings open. Cassie, looking quite unlike how I’ve ever seen her before today, wavers uncertainly. She stares at us with heavy-lidded eyes. All she’s wearing is a long tee with boy shorts.
It’s pretty obvious to me the girl is fucked up.
“Guys,” she slurs, giggling. “Come on in.” She steps aside and makes a sweeping motion with her arm before almost toppling over. “Oops,” she says, laughing.
Kay grabs hold of Cassie’s arm to steady her as we step into the house. “Where’s your mother?” she asks.
Cassie leans forward, directing her answer to me, not Kay. I get a good whiff of alcohol as she lazily breathes out, “Not here, obviously.”
“Clearly,” I murmur. And then, in a firmer voice, I inquire, “Where is Will?”
Cassie dances out of Kay’s grasp, ignoring my question. She spins in a little circle, singing, “Will, Will, Will. Oh, I love my beautiful boy.”
Kay looks at me and shakes her head. “What’s she on?”
“Jesus, I have no idea,” I reply. “She’s drunk, but maybe she took some pills, too.”
Cassie stumbles down two steps leading to a sunken living room with Kay and me following closely behind. It’s dimly lit in the living room, as all the blinds are drawn. There are empty liquor bottles strewn across the floor…among other things.
I pick up a couple of these items—a pill bottle belonging to Cassie’s mom, Cassie’s discarded jeans, a foil wrapper. All pieces to a puzzle that give me a story: Will and Cassie drank, took a few pills, and had sex.
Cassie picks up a bottle of booze and takes off the cap.
“Whoa, hold up there.” I swipe the bottle from her grasp. “I think you’ve had enough.” Handing her the pair of jeans still in my other hand, I say, “Here, put on some clothes.”
I get no argument. Cassie is not like Will. But when she tries to put on her jeans, she falls back on the couch.
Kay hurries over to help her. “What happened after Chase dropped Will off earlier?” she asks Cassie as she helps her into her jeans. “And where is Will now?”
“He left,” Cassie replies flatly. “He got in my car and took off.”
Fully dressed now, she leans back into the cushions and flings her hand out to add emphasis to the “took off” portion of her remark.
I sit down next to Cassie.
“Where did he go?” I ask. “And please tell me he wasn’t as fucked up as you are right now when he got behind the wheel of that car.”
“He drank a little,” Cassie admits. “But he didn’t take any of the pills. He said he needed to be thinking straight.”
Despite her own less-than-coherent state, Cassie has yet to divulge where my brother has gone.
The girl is stalling, so, again, I ask, “Where exactly did Will go, Cassie?”
Cassie twirls a lock of flaxen hair around her index finger. Studying it, she says softly, “He went to take care of Paul.”
And that is when I lose it.
Turning to this far-too-nonchalant girl, I grind out, “What the fuck does that mean? Where is my brother? And what the hell is he up to now?”
My tone is harsh, and Cassie winces. But she also wisely answers.
“We found out where Paul has been staying,” she says quietly. “Well, I found out. He called here. Paul, that is. He said he needed to talk to my mom. I knew it was a farce, though. I knew he was calling to talk to me.”
“What’d you say to him?” I ask.
“I talked to him for a while. And then I had an idea, a plan to trap him. I tricked him into thinking I wanted to meet up with him.” She shudders. “Anyway, my ploy worked. He told me where he’s been staying.
“And that’s where Will is now,” I finish for her.
“Yes, that’s where Will is heading. But Paul thinks I’m driving out to meet him. That’s why Will had to use my car. He doesn’t want to tip Paul off since he has to get close enough to—”
“Are you fucking crazy?” I yell, cutting her off.
Cassie scoots away and cowers to Kay.
That does nothing to deter me as I continue, unabated, “Why would you let my brother go meet up with that fucking animal? You do realize you could get him in serious trouble, right?”
I am livid. I know Will makes his own decisions, but I can’t help but feel Cassie is primarily at fault. This girl fosters Will’s protective side, but she also takes advantage of it.
“Why didn’t you just call the police?” Kay softly asks Cassie.
Kay is far calmer than I.
“If you knew where Paul was,” she continues, “why didn’t you call and tell the authorities? There’s a restraining order out on Paul. The police could have taken him in.”
“We could call them now,” Cassie offers.
“Too little, too late,” I mutter.
“Why?” Cassie asks.
“You just sent my brother to Paul’s place with a fucking gun in his possession. Do you want the police to show up and arrest Will?”
I’m riled, still, and Kay shoots me a look indicating I should calm the fuck down.
“Chase,” she mutters, “please.”
“I want Paul gone,” Cassie whimpers. “That’s all.”
“You want Paul gone,” I echo, shaking my head. “And my brother is supposed to be the one to get rid of him for you, huh? That’s just great.”
There’s so much more I long to say. Things like: what about my brother’s safety and well-being? Would you have him ruin his entire life for you?
But the answer to all my questions is clear in Cassie’s actions. She may claim she loves Will, but she doesn’t know what love is. If she did, she wouldn’t put Will in this kind of jeopardy.
With Kay’s influence, I finally manage to calm down. She and I eventually obtain the information we need from Cassie. We learn Paul has been staying in a trailer out on a road aptly named Vulture Mine Road.
“I know the area,” I mumble under my breath.
And I do, quite well. Ironically, Vulture Mine Road is not far from where Will and I have been hanging all week with the bike. That whole area is nothing but hardcore desert, pure wilderness, a good hiding place for the likes of Paul.
Before Kay and I leave to go retrieve Will, Cassie tells Kay she’s feeling sick. “Can you help me to the bathroom?” she asks meekly.
“Of course,” Kay replies.
She gives me a look, and I shrug. “It’ll just be a few extra minutes,” she whispers.
“Sure, okay.”
With Kay and Cassie out of the living room, I decide to do a little cleaning up. Truth is, I have to do something, or I’ll fucking crack.
I start by dumping all the alcohol down the kitchen sink. Then I work on the rest of the ju
nk. The pill bottle—some kind of pain medication—appears empty, so I throw it away, along with the condom wrapper.
Sighing, I try to look on the bright side. At least Will’s been safe with Cassie.
Still, if she were to get pregnant… Jesus. I can’t even fathom such a thought.
When Kay returns to the living room, alone, I ask her, “Where’s Cassie?”
“She’s lying down in her room.”
“Maybe you should stay here with her,” I suggest.
If at all possible, my preference would be for Kay to remain here. I’d like to keep her as far from danger as possible.
But from the look on her face, I see my stubborn girl’s not having any of my good, logical reasoning.
“Chase,” she says, her voice tired but firm. “Please don’t fight me on this. I’m going with you. We already decided that that is the plan.”
I put up my hands. “Okay, okay. If that’s what you really want.”
“It is what I want.” She sighs. “You’re not doing this alone.”
“Fine,” I say, acquiescing. “There is a condition, though.”
I eye her intently, until she says, “What?”
“You are absolutely not coming up to that trailer with me. I’ll park down the road, before we reach the place. I want you to wait in the car while I check things out, okay?”
On this, I am not budging, so it’s good when Kay replies, “Yes, yes, okay. Wait in the car. I got it.”
I pray she does, in fact, ‘get it,’ because the last thing I need is for Kay to accidentally get shot by my misguided, gun-toting brother.
Kay
I don’t like this plan. I don’t like it at all.
As Chase and I make a turn onto the disturbingly named Vulture Mine Road, full darkness descends, turning the mountains to shadowy silhouettes.
The night has an ominous vibe, prompting me to say to Chase¸ “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Bad feeling or not,” he replies, “I have to help my brother.”
“I know,” I whisper, accepting his decision.
Still, when Chase slows to an almost stop, I place my hand on his arm. “I’m not suggesting you not help Will. I just want you to promise to be extra careful.”
Chase is so big and strong and capable, but he is just a man. He’s not a superhero like the lead character in Will’s comic book, the one I know in my heart Will modeled after his older brother.
Chase pulls off the road and the rental car dips down into a gravel turn-out. After turning off the ignition, he turns to me.
I lean over to him so he can enfold me in his strong arms. “I’ll be careful,” he assures me.
I’m strong for Chase. I don’t let him see any of the tears building in my eyes, even though all I feel like doing is crying in his arms.
After a hug—which lasts a while, but not long enough—Chase pulls away. Slowly, he opens the driver’s-side door, allowing the dome light to bathe him in an orangey kind of glow.
His light-brown hair looks slightly coppery, and I reach over and run my fingers through the soft locks. “You have two sides to you, Chase, and I love them both,” I softly proclaim.
His eyes go to mine, his blues questioning. “Two sides?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply as I tug gently on the ends of his hair. “Soft,” I say, combing through the silky strands. “And hard.” My hand moves to the rough stubble on Chase’s jaw. “Like this.”
I touch his lips, mouthing the word, “Soft.”
He smiles.
I laugh.
Lowering my hand, I grasp his solid bicep. “And hard,” I nod and raise my eyebrows. “Actually very hard,” I add. “Impressive.”
This time, Chase is the one to laugh. But he quiets when I skim my hand across his chest and stop at his heart.
“Soft” I whisper, “so very soft.”
Chase grabs my hand. “Kay…”
His eyes say everything he doesn’t—or cannot—say.
“Go,” I tell him, turning away. “Go, before I try and stop you.”
I hear him sigh.
I hear him close the door.
And then he’s gone.
The outcome of the night now lies in fate’s hands.
Will
Am I making a mistake? Is this the right thing to do?
Truth is, I don’t know.
Why does it seem I always have questions, but never any answers?
I know what Chase would say to me. He’d tell me I’m throwing my life away. He’s big nowadays on keeping on task. But in the same breath, Chase is always urging me to be courageous.
He says shit like, “Follow your heart, Will. But always try to be a good man.”
Well, saving Cassie from Paul seems like something a “good” man would take care of. Right?
In any case, I have no choice. I have to try. See, Cassie doesn’t have a father to do things like protect her from crazy perverts. Her dad died several years ago, same as mine. My deal—though rotten—was still better than hers. Better because I have an older brother who’d lay his life down for me.
Cassie has no one but me. That’s why I’m manning up. Someone has to take care of this fucked-up situation.
And we need a solution that is permanent.
I drive out to the deep desert, not far from where Chase and I were earlier in the day.
Shit, now that I think on it, this whole week has been great. Riding Dad’s old Indian, what a trip that has been. Mom’s had that thing in the garage for ages. Greg usually ignores it, but I sometimes catch my mom out there, staring at that bike like it holds some answer she’s been looking for. She gets that faraway look in her eyes, the same look she gets anytime she’s lost in her memories of my dad.
Dad. I shake my head.
This family. Sometimes, I swear…
I just thank God for Chase. If it wasn’t for this thing with Cass hanging over my fucking head, I’d count the past few days spent with my brother as some of the best.
Spending time with Chase was always good. Well, until it wasn’t. But it’s good again these days, and that’s all that counts. It’s a relief, a lifting of a burden. I spent too many years of my young life harboring a lot of resentment towards my older brother. I hated that he’d turned to drugs and fucked up his life.
But I learned toting around all that hate in your heart is a heavy burden. I’m just glad we fixed that shit. Though, I have to say I finally understand where Chase was back then. I’ve used drugs lately to escape, too. It’s an easy fix.
Just like violence, which is what I’m about to do.
However, one thing is different from Chase’s past: I won’t let my ass end up in prison.
So why am I taking a chance like this?
Because I have to; I’m committed to this shit now. And if this thing goes down how Cass and I planned, we will be rid of Paul…for good.
The plan is a good one, I think. I’m supposed to pick up Cass straight-away after the deed is done. She and I will then head down to Mexico, to lay low for a while.
I figure we can find an empty beach somewhere. We can live in a tent, and I’ll find some kind of work for money. Cassie says she’ll work, too.
So, yeah, we’ll make it. And someday maybe I can return.
I sure hope that’s true, because thinking on it now, I know for sure I’m gonna miss my mom…and my brother. They’re all I’ve really got in this shitty world.
My eyes blur with tears, and I swipe them away. “Pussy,” I hiss. “Man up, dude.”
I turn onto Vulture Mine Road.
Shit. This is far too real.
Glad I skipped the pills Cassie had at her house. I’d really be a wreck if I’d thrown back a few of those. Partying, glad I’ve slowed that shit down.
Or, rather, I’ve tried to.
Cassie, though, she’s one crazy chick. She’s all about getting fucked up. I just haven’t been into it much lately. Things in my life have been better, and I hav
en’t felt that need to shut things out.
Glancing up at my reflection in the rearview mirror, I ask, “So, why are you doing this shit now, dumbass?”
I don’t have an answer—not one for myself, not one for the world—so I focus back on the road. I’m waylaid, though, when my eyes are drawn to the glint of something silver lying on the passenger seat.
The gun.
I glance over at the pistol I bought from Chase’s ex-dealer, Kyle Tanner.
That dude, what a trip.
Snorting, I reach over and grab the gun. I rest the piece in my lap, but when the cold metal starts to feel like it’s seeping through my jeans and right into my fucking skin, I move the gun back to the seat next to me.
I return to focusing on my task at hand as I continue down the road. It will be dark soon, and already there are lights ahead. I shudder when I realize the glow is from Paul’s trailer, less than a mile away.
That trailer is the only sign of civilization for miles.
I hit the gas, driving beyond the trailer. Eventually, I pull off and park in a truck turnout.
Shutting down the engine, I whisper to dead air, “Showtime, kid.”
Then again, maybe not.
I may sound all confident, but it’s a lie, a sham. The truth is I’m scared to death. And that makes me just kind of freeze up on the spot.
Dude, this is real, I tell myself for the hundredth time.
What’s it going to feel like to kill someone? Damn, that is some serious jail time if I am caught. Not to mention the moral aspect. Sure, Paul is a prick, but this is fucking murder.
“I am too sober for this shit,” I mutter.
I don’t want drugs—I need to be sharp—but I sure could use another shot right now. Too bad I didn’t think to grab one of the bottles of booze before leaving Cassie’s place. I had no idea my buzz would wear off so quickly.
I guess coming to grips with the fact you’re about to off someone has a way of sobering you up.
I pick up the gun and check to make sure it’s loaded.
I know it is, but it’s an opportunity to stall.