A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(43)

It rang four times before Andrew answered. “What?” he demanded irritably.

“Andrew, it’s Courtney.”

“Why are you calling me from my sister’s cell?”

“Annie’s in trouble and I don’t know what to do.” She didn’t want to overstate the problem, nor did she feel she should downplay it.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted, struggling to be heard. “We’re somewhere on the waterfront, in a warehouse. It’s a rave. Oh, no!”

“What?”

Courtney hurried back to the dance door. “Annie’s topless,” she said in horror. “She’s doing drugs. Ecstasy, I think.” She walked toward the doors, where it was marginally quieter.

“Is she with Chris?”

“Yes.” Courtney had left the building now and was surprised to see that it was completely dark out.

Andrew swore. “I think I know where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Relief washed over her.

“Stay with Annie,” he instructed her.

“I will.”

“And Courtney, listen.” He hesitated. “Thanks.” He clicked off, abruptly ending the conversation.

Courtney ran back inside and frantically searched the room until she found Annie. She had her legs wrapped around a man, her head thrown back and her arms flaying about to some earsplitting tempo. Chris was with another girl, a spike-haired brunette, and although Courtney couldn’t be sure, it looked as if they were in the middle of sex. Courtney turned away, unwilling to watch. She alternated between rushing outside to flag down Andrew and checking on Annie. An eternity passed before she saw Andrew pull up outside the warehouse in Bethanne’s car.

“Where is she?” he shouted, running toward Courtney. He carried a plaid blanket he’d obviously brought with him.

“Inside. She’s with some guy I’ve never seen before.” She didn’t want to say it, but she was terrified of what Andrew would find when he located his sister. In all likelihood, Annie would never forgive her. Still, Courtney was convinced that Annie didn’t know what she was doing, or with whom.

“Wait here,” he told her, his eyes hard.

Although it was difficult, she did what he asked. She feared Andrew might need help, that Annie would fight him and others might get involved. She conjured up such frightening scenarios that by the time he appeared, carrying his sister, Courtney was ready to phone the police.

“Is she all right?” Courtney asked anxiously. Annie seemed half-unconscious, her head lolling back. She was wrapped in the blanket, and Courtney admired Andrew’s thoughtfulness in bringing it.

His mouth in a tight line, Andrew nodded. “Help me get her in the car,” he ordered.

Working together, they got Annie into the backseat. Courtney reached into Annie’s purse, producing the blouse she’d worn earlier in the evening, and managed to push Annie’s arms through the sleeves. The girl offered no help and stared up at them, dazed and senseless. Once Courtney had buttoned it, Annie fell across the backseat. Andrew lifted his sister’s legs so that she was completely prone and draped her with the blanket.

“Did you have fun?” She raised her head enough to ask Courtney in a slurred voice.

“Oh, yeah,” Courtney muttered, and climbed into the front seat next to Andrew.

“Lie down and shut up,” Andrew told his sister.

She started to groan when they took off. Courtney thought she heard sirens in the distance; whether they had anything to do with the rave or not, she didn’t know.

“What’s wrong?” Courtney asked. She didn’t need to clarify her question. Andrew knew what she meant.

“Annie and my dad were close,” he said from between gritted teeth. “My sister hasn’t adjusted to the divorce, as you could no doubt tell on Monday night. It’s like she’s trying to make my parents regret what they did. The thing she doesn’t understand is how badly she’s hurting herself.”

“I don’t want her to get angry with me.”

“She won’t,” Andrew promised.

“How can you be so sure?” Courtney believed she understood his sister far better than Andrew would ever know. Annie felt as if she’d lost her father; Courtney knew what it was like to lose a parent. Her own life had changed irrevocably the minute her mother died. Nothing was or would ever be the same again. She wouldn’t walk into the house after school and hear her mother’s voice. There wouldn’t be any more of the special traditions Courtney treasured. The world had become a smaller place, a crueler place, without her mother. She didn’t criticize Annie for using drugs. Courtney had chosen another addiction to dull her pain—food. It’d taken her four years to find the resolve to break free of this self-imposed punishment.

Courtney turned toward him. “I want to talk to Annie later, all right?” she said.

Andrew looked away from the road long enough to make eye contact with her. “She needs professional help.”

“I know.” Courtney just hoped Annie got that help before it was too late.

CHAPTER 17

“Most of us knit these garments for someone special. In doing so, we let our love and loving thoughts for one another grow, a single stitch at a time.”