Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(39)

“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 f*cked 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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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 f*cked 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.”