by S. Massery
The chain-link fence surrounding the yard is broken, sagging in some parts. The gate is open.
I reach for my door handle, but Dad grabs my arm.
“You do not leave this car,” he orders.
“Isn’t this where you need the most backup?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows, and I sink back. Now I see the prosecutor in him. He’s interrogated many people—this late-night call isn’t really fazing him.
And I think there’s a gun tucked against the small of his back.
“Lock the doors,” he adds.
I do, hitting the lock button as soon as he’s out. Dad is the definition of calm, cool, and collected. On the outside, at least.
He marches right up to the door and knocks. After thirty seconds, he tries the doorknob.
It swings open, and he goes in.
I don’t think I breathe the entire time he’s in the house.
Ten minutes later, he comes out with Noah’s arm slung over his shoulders. My brother can barely walk, and Dad supports most of his weight. They stumble off the porch and toward us.
I break his order and unlock the doors, scrambling to get the backseat door open.
Noah’s gaze is unfocused, but he seems to lock on to me for a split second. His attention slides away.
Dad maneuvers Noah into the backseat, sort of dropping him, and then shoves his feet in and slams the door.
“Riley, in.”
I obey.
Now’s not really the time to… not.
Once I’m buckled in, I crane around and scan my brother. He’s half lying across the seat, his eyelids fluttering.
“Noah?” I ask.
I stretch my arm back and prod what I can reach.
“What happened?”
“He’s high.” Dad hits the steering wheel.
I flinch.
“I shouldn’t have let it come to this.”
I can’t stop staring at my brother. He seems…
“What did you take, Noah?” I ask.
My older brother giggles. It comes out hoarsely at first, but his shoulders move with the effort. He brings his hand up and traces an invisible pattern on the seat in front of his face, and the giggles turn into sighs.
Like crashing waves, he keeps sighing.
“Stop,” I say. “What did you take?”
My eyes burn.
This isn’t the brother I know. The one who defended me at a party once. Who wiped away too many tears last year and the one prior. Who held my hand during every one of Mom’s procedures.
We get home fast, and it takes Dad and me to get Noah into the house.
Mom opens the door, and we let Noah drop onto the couch.
“Where did you find him?” Mom asks.
“A drug house,” Dad says.
They exchange a look.
My chest tightens. Their faces say: We’ve talked about this.
“I already called them.” Mom perches on the coffee table and brushes the hair out of Noah’s eyes. “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Who?”
My question goes unanswered.
“Mom. Who’s coming?”
Dad slides his hand into mine, squeezing gently. “People who can help him.”
I nod slowly.
EMTs arrive sooner than fifteen minutes and assess him. Mom backs away while they check his vitals, and then another one brings in a stretcher.
Another van pulls up.
Three men in mint-green scrubs enter the house. They confer with my parents, then the EMTs, and I crouch beside Noah. I take his hand.
His palm is hot and dry, and mine is clammy. Any other time, he’d probably yank it away. But he just reels me in, holding it tight to his chest.
“They’re going to take me away,” he mumbles. He meets my gaze. “They don’t know how to fix me.”
“What?”
“Dad kept Mom at the hospital because he didn’t think he could handle it. He didn’t want a hospital bed in his living room. What do you think he’ll do to me?”
“They can’t—”
“Riley,” Mom calls.
I glance up.
“Honey, you’ve got to step back.”
“No.” I struggle to take a breath. He can’t be right—he’s high out of his mind. Paranoid. Hallucinating. “He can’t leave.”
“He’s going to an excellent facility,” Mom says. She takes my free hand and helps me stand.
As hard as I try to hold on to Noah, I can’t.
He releases me first.
Remember that, Riley. He let go first.
I shudder, and Dad hugs me. He keeps my head against his chest and backs away.
Maybe he doesn’t want me to see, but I can still hear.
The orderlies and EMTs transfer Noah to the stretcher and strap him down. They wheel my brother out of the house, lift him down the porch steps, and put him in the ambulance. Everyone piles back into the vehicles.
Their doors shut.
I back away from my dad and run out onto the porch, watching the ambulance lights flick back on and back out. The van follows.
The red and white lights are seared into my eyes, and it’s only when the darkness creeps back in do I realize I’m crying. Everything is blurry.
My brother is gone.
20
Eli
She’s crushed.
But when she tells us what’s been going on under the surface, I’m crushed. And so is Margo, judging from her shocked expression.
Her brother was sent to rehab for a drug problem, and none of us knew.
“How did you keep that secret?” I demand. “Why?”
I want to punch something. I can just imagine how it ripped them apart.
She looks away, guilty as fuck, and I grab her chin. I force her head in my direction and wait for her gaze to meet mine.
“You should’ve told me,” I tell her softly.
She shrugs.
“And your mom,” Margo says.
Riley’s body locks up. I might not have noticed if I wasn’t this close. If I wasn’t achingly familiar with it.
I tilt my head, and for the first time in too long, concern for her family threads through me. I was there when they brought her mom home from the hospital for what they hoped was the last time. She was in good spirits. And even when we dated, in the beginning of last year, she was… around.
It’s then that it clicks: her son is missing and she’s nowhere to be found.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” Riley says. “We need to find Noah.”
She steps out of my grasp. I hadn’t realized I was still holding her chin, still keeping her so close to me.
I step back, too, and rub the back of my neck.
“We split up,” Caleb says. “We have Eli’s truck, Jake’s car, and Theo’s. Riley, I don’t think you should drive.”
She scowls. “I’m fine to drive.”
He waves his hand, dismissive. “Go with Eli. Margo with me. Liam and Theo, Jake and Parker.” He gives us neighborhoods, and we all head out.
I cast one look back at Riley’s house. There’s a light on in her parents’ bedroom, and a shadow against the window.
Shivers run down my back.
“Come on,” Riley snaps, tugging on the door handle.
“Did you call your dad?” I ask once we’re on the road. “He might help.”
“He’d want to send him away again,” she says. “And that’s not happening.”
“But if Noah—”
“He’s not. Something bad must’ve happened, but he wouldn’t fall back to drugs.” Her attention flicks all over the road, to the houses. Scouring for his car, maybe.
I don’t know the first thing about finding someone. It was Matt Bonner who helped Caleb and me find Margo last year. And he turned out to be behind it, so…
“We should start at the tattoo shop,” she says. “Maybe he’s working late and his phone died…”
I nod and g
o in that direction. Screw the neighborhoods Caleb gave us—I have his sister. If anyone can find him, it’s us.
We park in front of the shop, but it’s dark. His car is gone, too.
“Talk to me,” I tell her. “When did this happen?”
She gets out of the car and presses her face against the glass storefront.
When she gets back in, she sighs and closes her eyes. “He started hanging out with Kaiden West in high school. Kaiden introduced him to the party scene.”
I tilt my head. The name is familiar, but I don’t know it.
“Soccer star,” she mutters. “He’s the same age as Noah, and they hit it off. Amelie was a bit obsessed with Kaiden for a while.”
Ah. His face comes to mind know—a serious jackass.
I scowl. There’s something else bothering me about that situation, but I can’t place it. It disappears when I spot someone is staggering down the sidewalk. “Um, Riley.”
“What?”
I point. “Is that him?”
She moves quicker than I anticipate, hopping out of the truck and practically sprinting toward Noah. Because it is Noah—a badly bruised, swollen-faced version of him, anyway.
“Help me!” she screams.
I run toward them and grab his arm, putting it around my shoulders. “What happened?”
Noah’s eye cracks open—as much as it’s able to, I think—and he groans. “What the fuck? Get away from me.”
He tries to shove me away, but he’s pathetically weak.
“You need a hospital,” I say. “Come on.”
Riley goes ahead of us and yanks the back door open.
“Who did this?” I ask him quietly.
“Some assholes jumped me as I was locking up.” He coughs and pulls his hand away from his side, showing me his palm. It’s wet with blood. “They stabbed me.”
“Shit.” I put his hand back against the wound and urge him to move faster. “Riley, call the hospital and tell them we’re coming.”
She nods once. I manage to get Noah into the vehicle, even though he’s got a few inches and fifty pounds on me. She climbs into the backseat with Noah, helping to press on his abdomen.
This is familiar. Didn’t I drive like a bat out of hell to the hospital with Margo and Caleb in the backseat just last year?
Maybe this fucking truck is cursed.
Riley’s voice is low as she tells the emergency department a rundown of his injuries. What she can see, anyway. She admits, “There’s a lot of blood.”
I drive faster. I cannot be responsible for her brother’s death.
“He passed out,” she says. “Eli.”
I pull into the hospital and stop in front of the ambulance doors. Nurses rush toward the vehicle with a stretcher, and there’s a flurry of activity as they get him out and onto a stretcher. Riley goes with them, holding his hand, and then the bay falls silent.
I take my phone out and immediately drop it. My hands are shaking, adrenaline and fear pumping through me. When I turn the light on to find my phone, I freeze.
My hands are covered in blood.
Bile rises swiftly up my throat, and I fall out of my truck, stumbling a few feet away. I throw up, and I’m ashamed of my reaction.
I should go in, but I can’t.
I never could.
There’s a water bottle in the door cup holder, and I use it to clean my hands. It doesn’t account for the blood on my shirt, my arms. There’s even some dark-red spots on my jeans.
Automatically, I dial Caleb’s number.
“Did you find him?” Caleb answers.
“Yeah. We brought him to the hospital.” I clear my throat. “He was stabbed.”
He’s silent for a moment, then, “We’re on our way.”
He knows.
I stay perfectly still at the front corner of my truck, semi-frozen, until he walks over from the parking lot. The last time I was here, with Caleb and Margo, I followed him blindly inside.
Why can’t I do the same for Riley?
“Hey,” Caleb calls.
It’s because my cousin died in a hospital. Brought in for a headache, diagnosed with brain cancer, and he only went home once. A brief flash of a life.
I couldn’t tell Riley that, not after her mom was okay. It would’ve been… traumatic. Unnecessary. But now the old, rust-tasting fear has made itself known again, and I can’t fucking move.
“I’ll go in with you.” He grips my shoulders and gives me a shake. “This is Riley, man. It’s her brother. Go in there and hold her hand.”
He retrieves my keys and hands them to Margo, who hovers behind us. And then he steers me into the hospital.
Easy.
I shudder and stand there, mute, while Caleb talks to the ER receptionist. She points to a doorway that goes to a private waiting room. We go in, and I zero in on Riley. She’s curled up in the corner, not even on a chair.
On the floor.
I didn’t even think about how it would affect her to be back in this hospital.
I go to her, holding out my hands to help her up, and she launches herself into my arms.
This feels normal.
We were each other’s support system.
“I don’t know what I would do if he dies,” she whispers.
I lift her higher, and she wraps her legs around my hips. We stay like that for a long time, and some of the anxiety I’ve been carrying fades away.
Some of my residual anger toward her does, too.
It falls off my body like flower petals, dropping and disintegrating.
Tomorrow is a new day. But for right now?
I press a kiss to her cheek.
21
Riley
Dad arrives an hour and a half after Noah is admitted and taken into surgery. Caleb and Margo have been keeping vigil, and Eli…
He hasn’t let go of me.
Or maybe I haven’t let go of him.
We’re on one of the couches, my legs over his lap, my head on his shoulder. I’m so tired, I could fall asleep. But every time I close my eyes, I see Noah coming at me on the sidewalk.
My hands are clean, gently scrubbed with a wet wipe by Eli, but Noah’s blood is on both of us.
“Honey,” Dad calls, and I stand.
Hug him.
My eyes fill with tears for the thousandth time.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I talked to a nurse, and they’re closing him up now. He’ll be in recovery for about thirty minutes, then we can see him.”
“He’s okay?”
“For now, yes.” Dad purses his lips. “Did he say anything?”
“He said he got jumped,” Eli offers.
Dad scowls at him. “I think it’s best you head home, don’t you think?”
I freeze, then slowly glance between Dad and Eli. I didn’t consider their feelings toward each other, but it seems mutual.
Hatred.
It clouds the room.
I squeeze Dad’s wrist. “He helped me.”
Dad meets my gaze, and I wince.
Eli tucks his phone in his pocket. “I’m gonna head out.”
Dad appears ready to punch Eli—an uncharacteristic expression for him. I stay beside Dad, wondering if any movement toward Eli would further instigate him. Caleb claps Eli on the shoulder and follows him out.
Margo hesitates, then comes over to me. “We need to head back to the city.”
I sigh. “It’s okay.”
Once it’s just Dad and me, we sit.
“I had them run a blood panel,” he says in a low voice.
I straighten. “Because you think he was high?”
“Isn’t that what you thought when you had all your friends out searching for him?” Dad fires back. “Isn’t that all of our first thoughts?”
Well… he has a point. “Kaiden didn’t answer, either.”
“I haven’t heard that name in a while,” he says. “They’re still friends?”
Honestly, I don’t really know.
They must be.
“What’s his last name?”
I glance at Dad. “West. Why?”
His eyes narrow, and he immediately stands. “Wait here.”
He disappears, and I shiver. I’m so glad Parker gave me the sweatshirt before we left the house. I curl deeper into it, tempted to lift the hood and yank the strings tight. Block out the whole world.
Why does the last name West sound off alarm bells in Dad’s head?
I shift, and something pokes my thigh.
That USB drive.
Slowly, I pull it out and examine it. I was happy to forget about it, but now… The note with it, the photograph… the timing wasn’t a coincidence. Parker found it, and Noah was jumped not long after.
I unfold the photo and read the back again.
Who’s next?
The photo itself, though… I don’t know why I thought it was Eli’s fault. On closer examination, this photo was taken from the street. The neon open sign glows in the upper corner, blurry and out of focus.
I stand. I need a computer.
The door opens, and Parker and Jake slip into the room.
“Dude,” she says. “We had to sneak past the nurses and your dad. What happened?”
“Noah was jumped,” I say.
I’m starting to doubt it, though.
“He just got out of surgery. And, um… I need a favor.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, aren’t you?”
Well, I am good at that sort of thing.
“I need a distraction to get to a computer.”
Parker shakes her head. “You don’t. They have a computer room for patients to use.”
Jake eyes her. “How do you know that?”
She doesn’t answer, but I notice how closely he follows behind her.
Hmm. Interesting.
I don’t comment, and instead let her lead me out of the emergency department. There’s a glass walkway to the main hospital, and we hurry along that path, then up to the second floor. At the end of a small hallway, there’s a door labeled Quiet Room and another, Computer Lab.
I hug Parker. “You rock.”
She shrugs. “I spent a good amount of time here when they let me. You remember the quiet room.”
“How could I forget? It’s where we met.”