11. Chase
ELEVEN
CHASE
NINETEEN YEARS OLD
Goldi and Jax made the trip again at the end of March, Jax taking his “chaperone” role way too seriously and not giving us a moment of privacy. Not like I’d fuck her with him eavesdropping anyway. I want us to be alone for that, but who knows when we’ll get the time.
Three weeks after they left, the ache in my chest from not being with her was too much to take, so I requested off work, filled up my gas tank, and took the trip home. Coincidentally, it’s also Anna’s birthday this weekend, and I’m happy I’m here to celebrate.
Goldi and I are at my house marathoning old horror flicks on TV, but I’m not paying attention. I’m too busy watching her.
Even though we’ve been together for a long time now, every day is still like I’m floating in a dream. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this, like my world is spinning around her, surviving off her glow.
That makes me sound like a pussy, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s the truth.
Almost everything in my life is finally going right. I’ve got the parents. I’ve got the girl. I’m getting the education. The only thing I’d change is the deteriorating relationship with my sister.
Lily’s the one thing I can’t keep ahold of, and it fucking kills me.
I never imagined she would shut me out the way she has, and now it’s too late for me to fix it. I spent too long not willing to see what was right in front of my face, and brushed it off like an idiot, reassuring myself everything was fine. But I can’t ignore it anymore.
The movie ends, credits rolling across the screen. My fingers trail up and down Goldi’s arm as she lies in front of me.
“I love havin’ you home,” she sighs.
“I love being home.”
She pushes her ass into me, and I bite my lip at the feeling. With all the time apart, we haven’t had too many opportunities to be with each other like this, and the nineteen-year-old hormonal boy is raging inside of me for some contact.
She reaches back and cups me through my basketball shorts, making the blood rush straight to my groin. She looks back and smiles deviously. “How long till your folks get home?”
“Who fucking cares?” I growl, lust overtaking rational thought. I grind into her hand, letting her feel how much she affects me.
It’s been a year of foreplay, and I’m losing my fucking mind.
She moves suddenly, and before I can open my mouth to protest the loss of her touch, she settles to her knees in front of me, her hands sliding slowly up my thigh and over my lap.
My heart pounds in my ears, nerves racing through me like I’m a kid again.
I watch, transfixed, as she wraps her hand around me, looking at me with all the trust in the world even though I’m not sure I deserve it.
“Does that feel good?” she asks, her head tilting like she’s trying hard to concentrate.
“Fuck. Yes.”
Tentatively, she takes her other hand and moves it beneath the waistband of my shorts, tugging them down until I’m exposed.
“Can I?” she asks, her cheeks flushing pink.
The thought alone has me close, and I bite my cheek and think about math equations to try to stem the sensation. “Yes,” I grunt out.
When I slide inside her mouth, she hums, and my hands grab fistfuls of her hair on instinct.
Shit.
I lose it almost immediately, and when I do, she moans like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing she’s ever done.
After, I collapse back on the couch, and she rocks back on her heels, grinning up at me with love shining through her bright blue gaze.
My chest squeezes tight from how hard my heart thumps against it.
She moseys back up onto the couch, curling herself in my arms, and gazing up at me. “Was that okay?”
I press my lips to hers, my body buzzing. “It was perfect… You are perfect.”
And I mean it. She is.
Goldi goes home an hour later, and I help Sam cook for Anna’s birthday. When Lily doesn’t show up for the celebration dinner, I blurt out my concerns. They aren’t surprised when I tell them—they’ve been having worries of their own. We should have had this talk a long time ago.
“Dinner’s getting cold. We might as well just eat.” I look at the spread on the table.
Anna sighs. “I guess you’re right. Do you have any idea where she is?”
Guilt stabs my heart because I should have paid attention to where she’s been for a lot longer than just tonight. But still, her question makes irritation simmer in my gut.
My head cocks to the side, eyebrows rising. “Do I know where she is? I’m not the one living under the same roof as her, Anna. Maybe you should pay closer attention to the girl you decided to play mother with.”
“Watch your mouth,” Sam intervenes. “We’re all concerned, and I get emotions are running high, but disrespect won’t be tolerated, regardless of you not living here anymore. Am I clear?”
I tug my hair, guilt slicing through my insides like a table saw. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried.”
Anna smiles softly, reaching across the table to cover my hand with hers. “It’s okay, Chase. The truth is, we’ve been worried about her for some time. I’ve been treadin’ lightly, scared to push her away even more. That might make me a bad mom, I don’t know, but there’s no guidebook on how to handle this.”
Sam rubs Anna’s back, his brows drawn down. “She could just be running late. Let’s eat.”
I swallow as much as I can stand, but the food tastes bland, overshadowed by the anxiety rolling in my gut.
Where is she?
I throw my utensils on my plate, feeling like I’m about to explode. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. “I’m gonna go look for her around town, and drag her ass back home once I find her.”
Sam nods.
Anna stays silent, a somber expression on her face as she stares at her dinner.
I drive around for the next few hours. I call Becca on the off chance she’s with her, but unsurprisingly she hasn’t heard from her in days. I’m stopped in a random parking lot, desperation creeping through my bones, when my phone rings.
“Hey, Sam. She home?”
“No, but I remembered something. We had her turn on the Find My Phone feature on her iPhone. I should be able to track her down that way.”
Why the fuck is he just now telling me about this? I could have been to her hours ago. My leg bounces while I hold the phone to my ear. After what feels like a goddamn century, he gives me a location.
An hour later, a few towns away, I pull up to a single-story house. It’s a small, run-down place, chain-link fence around the yard, and a square window on either side of the front door. The grass is overgrown, covering the sidewalk. If it wasn’t for the streetlamp flickering outside letting me see cars in the driveway, I would think it was abandoned.
Anxiety tightens my stomach as I walk to the front door. I knock, but no one answers. I move over to the windows, peering inside, but the shades are drawn so I can’t see much. I’m about to take out my phone and call Sam when I hear mumbling from behind the door. My stomach pitches into my chest as I rush back over, and a man stands in the doorway, eyes barely open, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
My jaw tics as I take him in. He’s skinny as fuck, has short brown hair tipped with blond, and pockmarks scattered across his face. He’s wearing a white undershirt stained with something brown, and gold chains dangling from his neck. Good. Easier to strangle the life out of him if he’s so much as touched my sister.
“Yeah?” he asks, scratching his stomach.
“I’m looking for Lily. Is she here?”
His eyes open a bit more, scanning me. “Who’s askin’?”
“Her brother.”
His posture straightens, a smirk covering his face as he moves to the side and waves his arm inviting me inside. “She’s around here somewhere. Flyin’ high in the sky.”
My fists clench. I will fuck this guy up. I move past him, keeping the lid on my rage, and focus on what’s important—finding Lily.
I walk into the house and scan my surroundings. The living room is trashed. A few random people lounge around in mismatched chairs and bean bags, and there are lines of white on the glass coffee table. My heart sinks.
Christmas lights are strung around the ceiling even though it’s not the holidays, and I move down a hallway, checking rooms as I go. Finally, I get to the last one on the right, and before I even open the door the smell of burning plastic assaults my nostrils. Memories of a past I try to forget flash through my mind, the scent throwing me back in time, and making me spin with nausea. I close my eyes, breathing deep, fighting the urge to throw up my dinner.
When I’ve regained my control, I reach out to turn the handle, my fingers trembling and my heart blasting its beat in my ears.
I already know what I’ll find.
And I’m not wrong, because when I walk into the room, my heart fucking stops, the silence making my vision blur and my ears hum.
Lily is laid out on a bare, stained mattress. Burned foil litters the floor around her, a lighter and straw next to her hand.
The lighting is low. Just a lamp in the corner of the room casting an eerie glow over this completely fucked-up situation.
“Lil,” I gasp, rushing to her side, my stomach churning and rolling.
She doesn’t stir.
I drop, foil crunching under my knees, and grab her shoulders. “Lily, fuck . Wake up.” I shake her, but she doesn’t fucking move.
This isn’t happening.
Sliding my arms underneath her, I pick her up, her body limp in my arms, the same way my mother’s used to be when I’d find her passed out on the living room floor of our apartment.
Back then, I used to rush to her side, my gangly arms trying my best to move her, and when that failed, I’d sit next to her all night long, memorizing the way her chest moved with her breathing.
That’s the only thing keeping me together right now, watching Lily’s chest move with her breaths. I focus on getting her the fuck out of this shithole and to a hospital.
The guy who opened the door is slumped on the couch when I get to the living room, Lily’s head lolling to the side and knocking against my chest.
“Call an ambulance,” I snap at him.
His cloudy gaze sweeps over Lily in my arms, but he shakes his head. “No can do, my man. If she dies, it ain’t gonna be on my property.”
Black rage surges through me, blinding my vision. If I wasn’t terrified that every second wasted was a second closer to losing Lily, I would tear this motherfucker apart. Instead, I shake it off, rushing out the door.
I’m dialing 911 as soon as I get Lily in my back seat, my hands shaking so badly I can barely type the numbers. I’m panicking and have no clue where the fuck to go. The operator calms me down, letting me know I’m less than five minutes from a hospital. Somehow, I get us there in one piece.
There’s a group of people in scrubs waiting for us outside the hospital doors, and I throw my car in park, jumping out as they move forward to take Lily from the back.
I try to pay attention to what they’re saying, but the adrenaline pumping through me makes it hard to focus, and before I know what’s happening, they whisk her away. I drop onto the asphalt, my knees screaming from the impact, and I use it to ground me.
Fear cripples my insides, the edges of my vision growing hazy as I try to regulate my breathing, or my thoughts, or fucking anything other than what’s happening here.
But it isn’t until I’m back in the waiting area with Sam and Anna, and the doctors tell me Lily’s stable, that I find any type of relief.
How could I have let this happen?
The whisper of Sam soothing Anna while she cries makes me ache for Goldi, but I don’t call her.
I don’t deserve any solace.
Rehabilitation is mentioned, pamphlets are exchanged, and just like that the hospital wipes their hands of Lily, preparing to discharge her within a few hours.
Sam, Anna, and I go down to the cafeteria after Lily asks for a minute to rest. They’re both talking to me, but I don’t pay attention. I’m too busy sinking into the depths of my self-loathing.
This is my fault.
If I had just paid more attention. Not gotten so caught up in my own life…in Goldi.
Eventually, we make it back to Lily’s room, preparing for the tough conversations ahead.
But when we walk in, the room’s empty.
She’s gone.
Everybody always leaves.