23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Oh, I don’t like that verbiage
Blaine
“W e were just giving out some information to the volunteers. Don’t hate the people trying to help,” Bristow says with his hands on his hips.
“Huh, well I don’t give a fuck.” He flinches away from me while I circle the room. That’s right, you bureaucratic piece of shit. “Take a seat. You’re not important enough to hate. I said, sit your motherfucking ass down.” In fact, besides our family, nothing else matters.
A rising panic is making me act out. Old habits are starting to itch at the back of my mind. I realize this, but right now I don’t give a damn about my lapse in manners.
“Now, get on your fucking phone and find out who you’ve let inside our home. While you’re at it, find out where those agents you’ve sent to the elementary school are. They better take their jobs more seriously than you and Inspector Gadget over there.” I nod my head toward Harrison.
I hadn’t expected my arrival back home to grab my forgotten wallet to turn into the worst day of my damn life. But it has. Initially, I thought we’d come across Weston coming back from the vet clinic. since he hadn’t been anywhere Caleb or Eden had checked.
Hutton’s fury over the camera footage missing during the chunk of time he must’ve been grabbed would’ve freaked me out more if I weren’t already spiraling. Our son would never willingly get in a stranger’s vehicle, and he’d never wander far from home. He was kidnapped.
My beautiful ball of energy, my Weston.
The same kid who stuns me daily with his observations and antics. The same kid I predicted would be a leader of men, a changer of lives one day. The same kid that never misses an opportunity to give me a hug and say, “I love you, Daddy.”
With each passing minute, my anguish pounds away at my hope. It hits me…We’ve lost our Weston. Once the crying starts, silent at first, angry growls working out of me as the waterworks won’t stop. I can’t rein it in.
Someone is going to pay.
If Hutton wants to rip them apart, I’ll be standing at his side to help.
“B.” Eden grabs my hand. “He’s just doing his job.”
I want to say he’s doing it poorly, but my mouth snaps shut with one look at her face. The past resurfaces in my mind. The absolute chaos she went through. Her brother. Oh, my fucking…
“Ed, fuck.” I crush her to my chest as she starts weeping, her body shaking.
Life isn’t fair. Not that I ever dreamed it was, but she’s overcome things no one should ever have to. Now we’re parents of a missing child-a child who was taken from us.
Apeshit, batshit, chickenshit, ratshit…shiiiiiiit.
If the drugs I picked up at school weren’t still locked in the compartment in my car, I’d be popping a few. How the ever-fucking fuck am I supposed to do this sober? Weather this loss…Jesus fuck…we’re not losing him. I can’t think that way. I can’t do it. I can’t do this without pills.
I can’t do life without my son.
Picturing him at breakfast sends a pang of pain through my heart. Squirming in the chair next to me, humming, he looks up at me with a mouthful of Cheerios. “Wanna hear a joke?”
I chuckle at him, since he’ll tell it either way. “Sure, buddy.” His giggles when he tells it are funnier than what he’s saying
“How do you get a squirrel to like you?” Zach starts to laugh too, knocking into his bowl of cereal. “Act like a nut.”
I can’t do this.
Matt herds us all into the kitchen, away from everyone else. Clearly none of us are handling this well. Caleb blows his nose amid a cry of distress, Keir looks like he’s in shock, Matt is getting angrier by the second, and Hutton looks like he’ll commit murder without much provocation. Then Eden…my queen, my Ed. Her face and neck are red and splotchy, and the tears track through her makeup, smearing her mascara. She’s trying to get words out. “I, I.-just we…we have to.” I keep rubbing her back, but it’s not helping.
Right now, we’re doing nothing to help this situation. Not one of us.
“Does anyone remember anything strange about this morning? Do you remember seeing anything?” Matt asks his voice stern. What the fuck? Does he think he can talk to us like he’s a king-shit FBI agent? It’s not like our family-his fucking family isn’t being fucked with.
Caleb answers, “What do you mean?”
“We’ve all answered these questions already,” I say with irritation. “Agent Scholl,” I add sharply.
Hutton glares at him. “There seems to be little doubt about what happened. Let’s cut the bullshit and figure out how to proceed.”
I look down the hallway and out the front window seeing someone from the police department speaking to a man wearing a windbreaker with a news station logo on it. The fucking media. On our property. “Can we get them out of here?”
No one answers me; they’re busy arguing about what we need to do.
“...waiting to get more information on the registered owners of those four cars.”
“We can’t wait. We don’t have time to sit and wait,” Keir responds to Matt.
“How do we make contact? With them…with the Realists?” Eden asks, wiping the tears away. “We need to establish contact, right?”
My mind shuts it all out. I’m trying to pick through the mess of my thoughts. I promised Wes when he was a baby, I’d always put him first. That, as his dad, I’d fight for him against everything and everyone. It was no accident we found him. I’m keeping my promise, buddy. I’ll keep it.
Right now, that means keeping those pills I want locked up. Right now, that means fighting for him.
Matt’s voice shakes me from my thoughts. “...now. Hey, Blaine. Blaine, are you ignoring me?”
I answer angrily, “If I want to, I will. I will ignore you so fucking hard, you’ll doubt your own existence. The two dumbasses you assigned here managed to fumble this one. Our son is the casualty of their ineptitude. So, don’t talk down to me. Don’t pick fights with me. And don’t fucking act like you’re suddenly in charge here.”
Matt’s phone starts ringing. After glancing at it, he pauses before closing his eyes. He answers, “This better be important.” I keep watching him as he turns away from us, his voice lowering.
Then I look over at Keir, who is busy discussing a press conference with Caleb and Eden. He meets my eye, his pain clear to see. The past he’s suffered is playing in his head, I’m sure. I want to give him comfort, but I’m held back. We’re on uneven footing.
“That’s…I understand. I’ll bring the family.” What in God’s name is he fucking discussing, and with whom? We’re in the middle of the biggest emergency imaginable and he’s shooting the breeze with some jackass on the phone?
He ends the call, placing his phone in his pocket. He looks at Keir, holding his wrist up and tapping it twice.
I have no idea what that could mean, but Keir’s hands drop to his sides, eyes widening. It means something to him . Is it some secret FBI thing? Possibly. All I know is secrets in this family, especially right now, are not cool. “What are you doing?” I mimic his movement.
Matt looks at me blankly. “Nothing.”
Oh, I fucking think not.
I step close to him, gripping his arm as I lean in to whisper, “If you know something about Weston’s disappearance and you don’t tell the rest of us…”
There’s an implied threat but I should really just say it. “...you’re going to be the cause of it all ending. This family, this relationship…I’m not fucking kidding.”
“Blaine, the last thing we need is infighting. Get a grip, stop being an ass, and” he takes a deep breath, “cooperate with the authorities. Please.”
I stiffen when he gives me a hug, whispering, “Weston is depending on us.”