Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(69)

I watch her sleep for a few more minutes, but then force myself to get out of bed before she wakes up and thinks I’m a freak for staring at her so intently. Chuckling at how crazy in love I am with this woman, I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants I find on the floor and step out into the hall.

With a slight shiver—it’s cooler in the hall than in the bedroom—I start toward the stairs, the hardwood floor creaking beneath my bare feet. I have every intention of going downstairs and making breakfast, but when I reach the room where Will was staying, I stop.

The door is closed, just like it would be if my brother were here. But he’s not, of course. Still, I close my eyes and pretend for a minute that he’s sleeping on the other side.

Unfortunately, I can’t fool myself, as I swear I feel the emptiness of my brother’s absence.

“Enough of this shit,” I murmur. I turn the knob and push open the stupid f*cking door.

Why is Will’s departure weighing on me like this? It’s not like I’ll never see him again.

I step into the room, like I may find an answer in here, and the first thing that hits me is how much it smells like Will in here. Even with my kid brother’s stuff gone, the whole room still smells of him. Nothing gross, mostly just a clean scent. Well, maybe there’s a touch of sweaty teenage boy in there somewhere. But it’s all Will, and f*ck, it reminds me that I sure do love that kid.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I shake my head and turn to leave. But just as I spin on my heels, something on the nightstand catches my eye.

It’s a folded piece of paper on an otherwise empty piece of furniture. Even the lamp that normally rests atop the nightstand has been moved to the floor. It’s almost like Will was making sure the folded piece of paper wouldn’t be missed.

“What the hell?” I mutter. Has Will left me some kind of note?

Before I walk over to the nightstand, I notice that the folded piece of paper looks kind of old. It has a yellowed, slightly tattered appearance.

And that makes me think: No f*cking way, no way is that the tree house sketch. No way would my brother leave his hope behind.

But sure enough, when I race over to the nightstand and snatch up the piece of paper, unfold it, my initial fear is confirmed—Will has left behind the sketch I drew him all those years ago.

“Why would you leave it here, buddy?” I whisper.

Peering down at the sketch I drew so long ago, I find there are no answers in the lines, curves, or colors of the drawing. However, there is a Post-it note stuck to the foliage of the tree. It’s from Will—to me.

I peel away the note…



Chase, my brother and the one person in this world who I have never doubted cares for me. Yeah, I fought that knowledge for so long (as you are all too well aware), but I’m tired of fighting. I love you, bro. I always f*cking have.

Anyway, this sketch belongs with you. No matter what happens to me, just know any hope I ever felt was because of you. You always tried to make things better, even when things were all f*cked to hell. And in doing so, you gave me hope. In fact, you gave me your hope a long time ago, with this sketch. Well, now it’s my turn to return the favor and give it back to you.



Love, Will



I read my brother’s cryptic note again and again. His words hit me deeply. But I can’t figure out what he is trying to tell me. Why would he leave this sketch, that note? What does he think is going to happen to him that I need to know how he feels?

I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling.

I consider calling him, as I’m sure he has his cell on him. But I know if I call him while he’s traveling on a bus with a bunch of strangers, he won’t divulge a thing.

Someone, though, may have an answer—the same someone who’s been hanging out with my brother for the past couple of weeks, the same someone who made that mystery trip to Kyle Tanner’s that I never did get to the bottom of.

Yeah, I think as I carefully place the Post-it note and the sketch back on the nightstand, a talk with Jared is long overdue.

I skip breakfast, take a three-minute shower, and bolt out the door before Kay is even up. I’m hoping to catch Jared before I start work. But on my way to his house, Father Maridale calls. He needs me to come to the church as soon as possible; there’s a broken pipe in the rectory. Water is everywhere.

Fuck. My. Life.

As it turns out, the broken pipe is a big deal, and I’m stuck working on that f*cking mess throughout the entire morning. The only good thing is that Kay comes to work, and is right down the hall from where I’m working.

But she gets tied up, too, and we don’t have a chance to connect until lunch.

As we walk down to the diner, Kay glances over at me and says, “Okay, we’re not at work anymore. No one’s around to hear. What’s going on?”

I admit I’ve wanted to talk to her all morning about what I found in Will’s room.

“What’d you find?” she inquires worriedly.

“Not drugs,” I preface to ease her mind.

She blows out a breath, relieved. “Thank God.”

“Right. So do you remember that tree house sketch I drew for Will?”

“Yes, of course, Chase.”

I stop right in the middle of the sidewalk and drag my fingers through my hair. “Do you remember how Will brought that sketch to Ohio with him?”