Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(52)

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Will replies, “if the police could find him.”

“What are you saying?” I ask as a sick feeling builds in my gut.

“Paul’s gone. No one can find the *, least of all the cops.”

As I’m shaking my head, at a loss for words, Will reiterates, “I have to go home. Like, today. I know people in Vegas who can help me find Paul.”

People in Vegas? I don’t like the sound of this.

“What kind of people, Will?”

“Just…people.”

From the guilty look on my brother’s face, I already know the kind of people who’d be willing to help a fifteen-year-old kid search for an adult man, a potentially dangerous man. Unsavory people, people involved in illegal activities, like drug dealers and users, that’s who would be willing to “help” Will—for a price, of course.

Shit. It pains me to think Will even has those kinds of contacts. But he’s bought drugs from someone in the past, right? Not to mention, who knows who Cassie is involved with. After all, it was with her that Will first tried cocaine.

“You’re not going back,” I say with finality. “You’re going to let the police handle this shit.”

Will makes a scoffing noise and says, “Now you’re suddenly a fan of the police?”

“Doesn’t matter what my personal thoughts are. This is about what’s best for you—and Cassie—in this situation.”

“Whatever, dude,” Will replies dismissively. “I’m changing my ticket today. Can you or Kay take me to the airport tonight?”

“Will, no!” I slam my palms down on the table and stand up. “You can’t go back. Mom and Greg won’t be home until next Friday. Not to mention, Mom doesn’t even know what’s going on. Just hold tight till next week. You can go home then.”

Will shoves his chair back, the legs scraping the linoleum. “Really, Chase?” he snorts. “You want me to wait until next Friday to go home? That’s nine f*cking days away. You know all the shit that could happen to my girlfriend in nine days?”

“The cops will find Paul,” I say as reassuringly as I can. “Cassie will be fine.”

Will doesn’t seem to know what to do. He runs his hand through his hair, turns left and right, and finally plops back down in the chair.

I glance at the clock on the stove. “Shit. I have to leave. I’m going to be late for work.”

Will shrugs.

“Look, I hate to do this, but I have to go. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Will glances up, his greens shaded by a swath of dark-blond hair that’s fallen to his face. “Just promise me you’ll think about letting me go back early,” he whispers, his voice pleading. “I’ll be fine alone at the house in Vegas.” He gestures around. “I’m here alone all the time. What am I going to do there that I can’t do here?”

I sigh and say nothing. There are way too many answers to that loaded question. The first of which is that my hotheaded brother will probably make a deal with some unsavory person the second his flight touches down, in an attempt to find Cassie’s stepdad. Then, he will go after him.

I reiterate that we’ll discuss it further when I get home from work. “I’ll think about it,” I say. “Maybe we can call Mom later and work something out.”

That seems to appease Will. However, do I really plan to contact our mother so my brother can go home early? Hell no. But if allowing him to believe I’m considering it means he’ll cool down and not do anything rash, my false words are justified.

The thought of how easily Will finds trouble reminds me to add, “No going out with Jared today.”

“Can he come over, at least?” Will responds.

“Not today. Find something to do around the house by yourself. Play video games on the computer…or work on your comic book.”

Will mutters, “Yeah, okay, whatever.” When he sees me glancing again at the clock, he adds sarcastically, “Better get going.”

I ignore his attitude and hit the road. But the whole way to work, I have this incredibly sick feeling, the kind that clutches at your throat and makes you feel like you can barely catch your breath.

I almost call Father Maridale to take the day off, but I’m needed at the school today since the rummage sale is starting. I can’t expect Kay and pregnant Missy to lug a bunch of heavy shit out to people’s cars.

When I get to the church grounds, I search out Kay. She’s in the gymnasium, standing behind a long table, setting up calculators and blank sales receipts. I take her aside and fill her in on what’s going on with Will.

“Do you want me to call Cassie?” she asks. “I could probably talk her into making sure Will doesn’t do anything stupid, like run off to Vegas or something.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know, Kay. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

She touches my arm. “Hey, I’ll call Cassie. If anyone can make Will stay put, it’s her.”

“Will staying put isn’t the only thing I’m worried about.” My eyes meet hers, and she knows my immediate concern is that my brother will seek out drugs today. This latest development is the exact kind of trigger to send him off in search of a high.