Chapter 18
Ezra. My sweet boy. My good boy. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him as happy as he is right now.
He’s wearing a long, flowing robe with golden and green embroidery, monogrammed with his initials across the center.
There’s an angelic glow like Della Reese and Roma Downey Jr. had on Touched by an Angel.
God I hate that fuckin’ show. My ex-wife used to watch it every night before bed, so it’s a glow I’m more than familiar with, and it suits my Ezzy well.
His lips meet mine, and it’s like a religious experience in its own right, claiming and dominating, demanding every ounce of my devotion. That’s fine. I give it willingly.
“I love you,” I tell him, because he’s gotta know. I need him to know.
Oh God, and Johnny. He’s behind me, rocking against me, calling my name, a symphony of Bubba, Bubba—
“Dammit, Bubba, wake up! He’s gone!”
My eyes shoot open.
“Ezra?” I sit up, but I’m a little too fast, not taking account of Johnny, who’s standing beside the bed, kneeling over me, and I bang the top of my head against his chin.
“Fuck!” Johnny shouts, and when I look up, he’s rubbing his jaw, and there are tears in his eyes. I brush his hand away and hold him.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt—”
He shakes his head. “It ain’t that. He’s gone.
” He’s staring down at Ezra’s spot in the bed.
Empty. Cold. The bedroom door is open, and the hallway light is on.
“I looked all over the house.” He looks dumbfounded, staring off into space like he took a Valium a little while back, and it’s just now kicking in.
I know that ain’t what’s going on here, because Johnny doesn’t like Valium highs, but the fact remains, he’s staring into the void like he’s stupid or something. “Ezra’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone? Where would he go?”
“Fuck if I know, but he’s gone, and he ain’t the only ones.” He pauses, looking scared to say whatever he needs to say.
“And what?”
“Momma and Pete.”
“What about them?”
“They’re gone too. The truck is gone.”
I blink a few times, like it’ll somehow make the picture he’s painting come into focus, but it’s all still blurry. “Did they go to town to pick something up?”
Johnny rolls his eyes. “Pete and Momma wouldn’t leave without saying something, and when have you ever known Little Dick to go anywhere without you?
He would’ve left a note or something. He wouldn’t just up and leave.
Not with Pete or Momma. He don’t like small-talkin’ with strangers.
You know he gets nervous. What if he got hurt and they had to take him to the hospital?
Or what if he decided he don’t want this? What if he didn’t want me, so he left?”
I know it’s my turn to roll my eyes, but I don’t, because that’s not what my Johnny Boy needs. Inside, I’m terrified, but Johnny needs me to be the strong one, the way I always am. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in for a hug.
“Oh, Johnny,” I soothe, kissing his forehead. “You must’ve missed the memo. Ezzy’s smitten. He might not have said the words, but I know they’re in there, and they’re just dying to come out. He loves you. He loves us. Did you ask Austin or Jay if they saw anything?”
Johnny shakes his head, his short beard tickling my chest. “Jay was sleeping, but I woke him up and asked if he saw something. He said once he falls asleep, he’s out like a light, then told me to fuck off.”
“I’ll wear his ass out—”
“I think we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He holds a small syringe and a bottle of clear liquid he’s been fisting this whole time. “I went to check on Dallas and Austin. This was beside their bed.”
“The fuck is that?”
“Drowsy Dan.”
“Is that the shit your momma gave me last time we visited? The sleep aid she made on the stove?”
Johnny nods. “Yeah. It looks like she dosed both of them. It lasts twelve hours, so there’s no telling how long they’ll be out.”
“The fuck is in that shit? I felt like I had a hangover for two weeks.”
“Some rat poison. A little Benadryl. There’s some herb she crushes and boils the liquid with. She gets them down at the pond. Pete, Barrett, and me used to pick the weeds she uses, and we’d smoke them. It’s like pot, but with a killer hangover.”
I scrub my face. “Jesus, fuck. This is the stupidest real-life plot twist I’ve ever lived through.
” I open my mouth to ask if Ezra took his phone, but it’s on the bedside table where it always is.
He gets so sad without his phone. There’s a bitter tugging in my heart. “Where do you think they went?”
“I don’t know. They don’t ever go anywhere. This was the first time Pete’s even been out of Dunsberry.” His eyes widen. “They never leave home. Do you think they went back to Arkansas?”
“It’s the only place I could imagine them going.”
“But why would they come all this way just to take him to Dunsberry without saying goodbye?”
“I guess that’s something we’re going to have to ask them when we get there.”
“You mean it?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s embarrassed to ask. “You’ll take me home?”
Interesting that he still thinks of it as home, considering he’s almost been out of the town longer than he was in it, but I guess home is where the heart is, and right now, our heart is headed to Arkansas, and we have to get him back.
“Get dressed. Let’s go get our boy.”