He runs over to the register and grabs the phone, pointing it at me. “Get outta here ‘fore I call the cops. I told you what I know. I don’t mess with Lily no more, not in years.”
I clench my fists. The urge to beat the fuck out of him is strong, but I hold myself together, repeating the serenity prayer in my head. The man who walked into the store is warily watching our interaction.
“You’re fucking lucky,” I point out.
Turning around, I speed-walk to my truck, knocking someone in the shoulder on my way out. I don’t breathe until I’m in my seat, slamming my palms on the steering wheel.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
My heart is racing and my mind is spinning.
Arizona. She’s in Arizona.
44
Alina
I think I might be in shock. Back when Lily overdosed and disappeared, a lot was left unsaid. Chase was closed off, and I was too afraid of pushing him to pry, so I didn’t hear the details. I didn’t realize he spent hours searching, and when he finally found her she was on the brink of death. Chase has lived with this memory seared into his brain, torturing him. An entire experience that would shape the rest of his life, and I had no idea of its depth. I never knew. My heart cracks because I never thought to ask.
He tells me about the gas station. My eyes grow wide with every sentence he utters. I’m cozy in a pair of his basketball shorts and a tee, sitting on his couch, watching him pace a hole through his living room floor.
“I mean, I have to do something, right?” he asks.
“You don’t have to do anything. Do you think you should?”
He rips at his thick, dark hair. I’m surprised he has any left on his head after the years of abuse the strands have endured.
“I should have killed that motherfucker. I’m gonna go back. You think he’s still there?” He stops in the middle of the room, spinning to face me. His fists open and close at his sides.
“I think you should take a deep breath.” I inhale and blow it out to show him how it’s done. He mimics me, and some of the rigidity leaves his posture. “Now, come over here. Sit down and we can talk this through.” I pat the spot next to me.
He plops on the couch. I scoot him forward so he’s on the edge, and I squeeze behind him, my fingers kneading the tension out of his shoulders. He groans, his head dropping to give me better access.
“Have you talked to your folks about any of this? I mean, do you ever bring up Lily?”
He blows out a breath. “No. We don’t talk about her.”
My hands pause their movements. His words surprise me. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Well… then I think that’s the first step. You need to talk to ‘em. For all we know, they could’ve been in contact with her and not told you.”
His shoulders tighten. “They wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, no? Have you given them the impression you’d be open to hearin’ about her?”
He quiets. The old Chase would clam up and change the subject anytime Lily’s name was spoken. I wouldn’t be surprised if his folks were scared to bring her up in conversation. But I could be wrong because this new Chase is an enigma. He’s more open than he was in the past—this weekend in Nashville proved that.
The Nar-Anon meeting was different than I expected. I’ve been spending the past twenty-four hours processing, and I’m still not sure how I feel. I’ve heard about Alcoholics Anonymous. Heck, I’ve tried to get Daddy to go a thousand times. But I hadn’t heard of a support group for friends and family.
Their stories were harrowing, digging deep inside, and pulling up ugly feelings I’d rather keep buried. Exposing the rawness I only uncover in solitude.
I didn’t think there would ever be a day where Chase spoke his story. I spent years hoping he’d share his burdens. Even though I get now why he kept it buried, the fact I wasn’t what he needed to heal is a bitter pill to swallow.
There are some things the heart can’t forget. Loving Chase is one. Being hurt by him is another. But losing my daddy to the devil makes me understand. Chase’s mama ravaged his soul, leaving him to pick up the pieces, and abilities become stunted when something is battered and bruised. It doesn’t excuse his behavior. It doesn’t lessen the phantom pain of his betrayals. But it helps.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he blurts.
“I say a lot of things.” I press my fingers into a knot on his neck.
“About a private investigator. To find Lily. I wasn’t planning on doing anything, but maybe this is the universe telling me I need to find her.”
“Do you think that’s what it is? A sign from God?” God. Universe. Same thing as far as I’m concerned.
“I don’t fucking know.” He tugs his hair again, leaning into me. “What do you think I should do?”
The lost look in his eyes makes me want to scour the world for him. I chew my lip, considering my words. “I reckon you should talk to your folks before you decide on anything.”
He reaches back, palming my thigh. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Will you come with me?”
My eyes bulge. “To talk to your folks?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to do it alone.” His voice cracks.
“Okay. I’ll go.” I slide my hands to his chest, wrapping my legs around his waist and squeezing tight.
I don’t tell him how the thought of seeing them makes my stomach roll. How every time I’ve run into Anna, the air grows chilly. I don’t open up about the resentment I feel knowing Sam dropped Daddy like he couldn’t be bothered to help him through his pain.
I don’t mention any of these things. But I sure do think them.
The
