Chapter 34 Scott Since U Been Gone #2
My first stop was Kyle. Not only to check on him, but because I’d been staying in his room since Mitch left.
Jake’s narrow twin bed wasn’t ideal, but it beat the couch, which was where I’d been ever since Melanie arrived the day after the kidnapping and stepped right into Michelle’s emotional space.
I had my issues with it, and the distance between Michelle and me was growing, but Melanie was keeping her upright, and that gave me the space to focus on finding Jake. For now, that had to be enough.
I knocked as I pushed Kyle’s door open. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress, shoulders rounded, eyes down. His good hand rested in his lap, his fingers curled around something small, but he closed his fist the second he noticed me.
“You doing all right?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Whatcha got there?”
His eyes flicked up. “Nothing.”
Something about how fast he said it told me it wasn’t nothing.
“Kyle, show me what’s in your hand.”
Slowly, he opened his fingers, revealing a skull ring—the cheap plastic kind you’d find in a vending machine by the supermarket exit. Ah. Okay. It was nothing. I totally read that wrong. These last two weeks have trained me to be ready for the worst.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked, trying to play it off.
“Walmart. It’s Jake’s. I got one too. A stupid puppy. He got the cool one, of course.”
I smiled. That sounded about right. Jake was charmed… until he wasn’t.
Kyle looked so small now. So young. He and Jake together had always been so… much. But alone? It was like someone had let all the air out of him. I sat beside Kyle and put an arm around his shoulders. We stayed like that, quiet, both missing the boy who filled our lives with light.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said, his voice catching. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
His pain cut right through me. I tightened my grip on him. “I need you to hear me, Kyle. You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”
He wouldn’t look at me, closing his fist around the skull ring again and squeezing it tightly enough for the cheap edges to leave marks on his skin.
“You’re wrong. It’s my fault. I’m the one—”
Kyle looked up, tears in his eyes, and I saw it then.
Guilt.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m the one who took him there.”
“Took him where?”
He struggled to get the words out. “Jake wanted to go to the skate park. I wanted to ride the rails at the business park. I taunted him. Called him a mama’s boy. I talked him into it. And now…”
Kyle broke apart. “Now he’s gone.”
I dragged a hand down my face, barely able to contain myself.
Kyle had lied in the police interview. He’d told them it was Jake’s idea.
My jaw locked. Angry words lined up on my tongue, ready to spill.
No. I can’t. He was trusting me with this.
Kyle needed me to be his father. Not just Jake’s, but his. I forced myself to slow down.
“You don’t get to put this on yourself,” I said.
He shook his head.
“Kyle, listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though everything in me wasn’t. “You’re twelve. What you said or did—it doesn’t matter. The man who took Jake chose to do evil. That’s on him. Not on you. Never on you.”
Kyle hunched forward, sobs shaking his shoulders. I pulled him in, let him cry against my chest until there was nothing left. When he sat back, he pressed the skull ring into his palm like he needed the pain to match the guilt.
“I don’t want you sleeping in here anymore,” he said, catching me completely off guard. “I just… I can sleep by myself now.”
I wanted to believe him, but trauma like his wasn’t something you just got over.
“Okay, well, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m currently homeless.”
Kyle wasn’t swayed. “You were sleeping on the couch before.”
“Yes, and that’s why I now have the posture of a jumbo prawn.”
He let out a quick laugh, such a beautiful, if short-lived, sound. “The truth is, you snore.”
“I don’t sno—”
“And fart,” he cut in.
“Right, because your digestive system is a well-oiled machine.”
“Doesn’t matter. Mine don’t wake me up. I have enough trouble sleeping without you playing the butt trumpet all night.”
I sighed, already seeing the couch in my future again. I wasn’t sure I trusted that Kyle was strong enough now to sleep alone, but I needed to believe he was. I stood.
“Fine. I hear the Thompson Boulevard overpass is nice this time of year.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. You can sleep in Keith’s bed. He climbs out of his window every night anyway. Don’t tell him I told you that.”
Right, so, Keith was my second stop.
I pushed his door open. No knock. With him, I had a feeling a surprise attack was the only way in. But if the intrusion rattled him, Keith didn’t show it. He just looked up, rolled his eyes, and went back to sniffing shirts—apparently trying to decide which one reeked the least.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
“I’d already be gone if Mom was still doing laundry.”
“You could do it.”
“Me? I know less about washing machines than Aunt Mel.”
“I want you home tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because…” I had to come up with something quick. “Kyle needs you.”
He stopped sniffing and glanced up at me. “No, Dad, he needs you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think I’m carrying my weight?”
“Just saying, Mitch was watching Kyle. Not you. So now that the golden boy is gone, suddenly I’m the back-up plan? Nah. He’s your kid. You watch him.”
Keith had touched a nerve. “You think I’m sitting on my ass all day? I’m out there searching for your brother. What are you doing? Smoking pot with your loser friends?”
“Seriously, Dad, you really think you’re the one who’s going to crack this when there’s a whole team of highly specialized federal agents working on his case?”
“They might be specialized, but they don’t love him like I do.”
Keith went still and dropped his eyes. “Yeah, well, if love was enough to bring him back, he’d already be home by now.”
The truth of that stung.
Keith decided on a shirt and headed for the door.
“Sure you don’t want to use the window?”
“Windows are for kids. See, I turned eighteen last week.” He paused for effect. “I know—you forgot. Everyone did. Not that I’m blaming you. It was a rough week. My point is, you don’t get to decide if I stay or go anymore. So… see ya.”
It wasn’t like we’d forgotten his birthday à la Sixteen Candles. We were just knee-deep in hell.
“I’m sorry about your birthday,” I said.
He barked out a laugh. “You really think it’s about that? I don’t give a shit about my birthday.”
“Then what is it? Talk to me, Keith.” I softened my tone. “What’s happening with you?”
“What’s happening with me?” He spread his hands. “Let’s see—my little brother was snatched off the street, my life has turned into a Dateline episode, and Mom made me wear seersucker to a press conference.”
“You’re describing everyone in this house. At least your shirt didn’t have tiny whales on it. Try again.”
Keith hesitated, like he might actually trust me with his secrets, but nothing came easy anymore. He clammed up. I’d always prided myself on being a good dad, a present one, but now, I just felt defeated.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me, kid. Those people you’re running with don’t care if you wake up tomorrow. I do.”
“I don’t,” he said under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
He headed for the front door.
“Keith—”
“I was being dramatic, Dad. I’m fine. I just cope better when I’m high.”
“Don’t we all? But you can’t smoke your way out of this.”
“Maybe not,” he said as he stepped outside. “But I’m sure gonna try.”
The door shut behind him, and that’s when I heard the scoff.
I turned. Melanie stood in the hall, that superior look already in place.
“Something you want to say?”
“That was some stellar parenting, Scott. Truly inspiring.”
“Thanks, Mel. I’m sure your two oldest can afford the good stuff. Straight up their noses.”
She didn’t even blink. “At least mine didn’t learn it from me.”
“Stay out of it,” I said, the last of my patience snapping. “Better yet, go home. We don’t need you here anymore.”
“You might not, but my sister does. I know you don’t like me. That’s fine. I don’t like you either. But you need her functional,” she said, lifting her chin, “and I’m the one keeping her that way. So yes, you need me.”
I hated that she was right. But I hated more what it might cost me.
“I know what you want,” I said, keeping my voice low. “What you’ve always wanted.”
Melanie lowered hers to match. “She doesn’t belong here. She never has. And you know it. Maybe now she’ll finally see.”
“Now?” I stepped closer. “Now, when her son is missing?”
I shook my head. “You actually think this is the moment to steal her away?”
I walked out the back door, too drained to keep fighting but knowing that if I didn’t get Melanie out of my marriage, Michelle would slip away from me piece by piece.