I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(106)

But why is Chase’s phone turned off?

I suddenly wish I had Will’s number, because, I don’t know, something feels off. And if I had Chase’s brother’s number I could find out what’s going on. Maybe.

I decide to try Chase again.

In the darkness, with a background symphony of frogs singing down at the creek, I dig my cell from my purse and call Chase’s cell once again. But like before when I was leaving the church, the call goes straight to voicemail, which means his phone is still turned off. Again, I can’t imagine why Chase would purposely shut down his cell. Maybe his battery died.

I push off the car door and reluctantly go up to my apartment. Truth be told, I am not myself. I’m still reeling from the episode at the cemetery—seeing my mom and learning the truth. Doug unlocked the patio door. Unbelievable.

Four years wasted, four years spent believing something that wasn’t true. I carried so much blame. I lost my mom’s presence in my life. And why? All because Doug Wilson kept a secret of his own, one that could have changed so much. Has it come too late? Where will we all go from here?

I can’t even consider. In fact, I try to block out the events of the evening for now. I need to behave as if nothing is wrong when Chase and his brother finally do arrive. Later, once Will is asleep, I’ll share with Chase all that has happened and ask him for his opinions.

Up in my apartment, I flip on a lamp and toss my purse onto the sofa. I head back to the shower, unzipping my dress—dirtied and wrinkled from my time at the cemetery—along the way.

The hot water does a good job of reviving me. I actually start to feel more emotionally balanced by the time I’m dried off. With a renewed calm, I slip a blue eyelet lace dress—the one I know Chase loves—over my head. I don’t bother with makeup or shoes; I just go back into the living room and plop down on the sofa.

The minutes tick by silently as I wait for my boy and his brother to come home. At some point, I glance over at the kitchenette.

Should I make some food? I wonder.

If I’m mistaken about their delay, and Chase and his brother haven’t stopped to eat, they may very well be hungry by the time they get here. But just as I stand, with the intention of making at least a couple of sandwiches, my cell phone buzzes.

I glance down, see Chase’s name flash across the screen, and answer with haste.

“Chase, is everything all right?”

When my boy slurs my name as a response, I know immediately something is very, very wrong.

“Oh my God, what happened?” I ask, panicked. “Are you okay? Is everything all right with Will?”

“No,” Chase begins, his voice drifting, like the phone’s slipping out of his grip, “nothing is right, baby.”

My heart races with fear. “Chase, please, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”

He exhales audibly. “Will wasn’t on his flight, Kay. He, uh, changed his mind, he’s staying in Vegas. Sometimes plans change, you know.” He laughs. “And I’m sorry, baby. I wasn’t planning on going there, but something came up with his girl, and Will didn’t show. So I did it, I went there. And it was the wrong thing to do.” Chase sounds messed up, he’s barely making sense. And I know, I just know, it’s not solely because his brother has blown him off.

“Where are you?” I ask carefully. “Do you need me—?”

“I always need you, baby girl,” Chase kind of chuckle-slurs.

Now I know for sure he’s been drinking, a lot. Or he’s done something else. I pray it’s not the “something else.”

I breathe in deeply. “Chase, let me come get you. Just tell me where you are, okay?”

He lets out a long sigh. “I’m at the church, Kay, out on the front steps.” He pauses and for a moment stillness hangs in the air. “I walked here from Kyle’s house,” he adds at last.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Chase at Kyle’s means only one thing, my boy has fallen. I don’t judge though, I just tell Chase to wait for me there, and then I disconnect. I slip on some shoes, grab my purse, and leave to go pick up the pieces of the man who sounds as close to broken right now as I’ve felt all evening.

Ten minutes later, when my obviously f*cked-up boy gets in the car, he’s all over me, kissing and touching. He can’t get close enough, it seems. “Touch me, baby,” he says as he leans across the console and drapes himself all over me.

Chase is beautifully disheveled. His face is angelic, but his hair is devilishly tousled. And his eyes are bleary-blue, bloodshot. There’s also no mistaken that Chase smells of alcohol and weed.

“What did you do?” I ask. I need to know just how far down he’s fallen.

“Hmm?” he replies distractedly as he settles back into his seat.

I drive away from the dark, empty parking lot, silently thankful the carnival ended yesterday.

As we head to the house, it seems Chase can’t decide what he wants to do. He leans back over the console and kisses down my neck. His hands are busy, one on the back of my seat, keeping my erratic boy somewhat upright, and one slipping under my dress. Chase caresses between my thighs and I swerve a little. Thankfully, this drive is going to be a short one. And good thing this stretch of the road is completely deserted this time of night.

My boy’s fingers travel higher. But when he slips under the edge of my panties, I have to say something. It’s either that or drive off the road.