My eyes feel heavy, the pain medicine dragging me to sleep again and I shake my head as I whisper, “Who are you?”
The last thing I feel before sleep claims me is his warm lips pressed against my forehead and for the first time in a long time, the nightmares don’t plague my night.
Chapter Four
Lucas
Sighing, I set my cup of coffee down on the bookshelf and sink into the lounge chair in the corner of my room before running my hand over my face and closing my eyes. I’m fucking exhausted and as much as I would love to sleep for the next thirty-six hours, I can’t. Not until I find Clay. I spent most of last night hitting his usual hangouts again and even after two showers, I still feel fucking dirty. Each place was more run down and dirty than the one before it and I was accosted by numerous women looking to suck my cock in exchange for just a little bit of dope - anything to get their next fix. It’s disgusting and looking back now, I can’t believe I used to hang out in places just like that but back then, I didn’t care about much.
I grab my coffee and take a sip before pulling my phone out of my pocket and stare at it. I have one more person I can talk to before I have to start calling hospitals and morgues but I’ve been avoiding this conversation for six damn years and I don’t know that I’m prepared for it. With a sigh, I set my coffee back down and dial her number.
“Hey, honey! How are you doing?” Iris asks and even through the phone, I can hear the cheery smile in her voice and a rock forms in my stomach. Iris is one of the only people that’s ever given a damn about Clay and I know telling her the truth will disappoint her but I don’t know what else to do anymore. I’m out of options.
“I’m good, Riz. How are you?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line and I turn to the window, my heart racing.
“You wanna tell me the truth this time?”
Shit.
I know better than to try and bullshit Iris. I’ve never been very good at hiding anything from her and she doesn’t have the kind of personality that would let me get away with lying to her. I take another sip of coffee before setting it down on top of the bookshelf with a sigh.
“Uh… have you seen Clay at all lately?”
There is this nagging sensation, deep down in my gut, that’s screaming at me to pay attention, to be on top of my game but I have no idea why. It’s not like Clay hasn’t disappeared for long stretches at a time before. But this time feels different.
“No, I haven’t. Is something wrong?”
I sigh and close my eyes. When Clay first started using, I thought I could handle all of this on my own but now, it’s six years later and I’m no closer to managing my brother and his addiction than I was when it all started.
“Yeah, something is wrong, but it’s not really a conversation we should be having over the phone.”
“I see,” she murmurs and my stomach rolls.
Shit.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t you dare,” she cuts me off. “Don’t apologize for finally including me.”
I nod despite the fact that she can’t see me. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you come round for a meal in the next day or two and we’ll talk?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I can do that.”
The smile is back in her voice when she says, “Good. And I’ll keep my eye out for your brother until then.”
“Thank you, Iris.”
“Oh, hush, boy. I think you know by now that I’d do just about anything for you boys. Y’all are family.”
I smile, my thoughts drifting back to when Clay and I first met Iris years ago and I nod. Despite the fact that we’re not related, Iris has been family to my brother and I since the moment she inserted herself into our lives.
“All right, I’m going to let you go.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”
We hang up and I sigh as I lean back in the chair and grab my coffee, going over Clay’s favorite hangouts in my mind. I fucking hate going there and searching for him but even worse is the feeling of my worry eating away at me when I don’t find him. It’s like one of those tapeworms you see on medical TV shows - the kind of thing that you never even realize is there until it sucks so much life out of you that you’re barely hanging on. In the beginning, I worried about my brother but now, it’s consuming me, devouring another piece of my soul each day and I worry that neither one of us is going to survive this mess. So many people have told me to cut ties but they don’t understand - none of them do. Clay is all I’ve got left and who he is now, the chaos he’s created in both of our lives - is all my fault.
Sighing, I throw my free arm over my eyes and try to clear my mind. A laugh bubbles out of me and I shake my head.
What a fucking joke.
My head is never clear… except recently when I’m around Quinn. My mind drifts to yesterday as I brought her home from the hospital and carried her up to her room. The thing is she felt so damn good in my arms in a way that I’ve never felt before and it was more than her lush curves or soft skin. When I’m with her, I feel free. Maybe she’s just a pretty distraction, an easy way to redirect the toxic thoughts that are always spinning in my head but I don’t know that I care anymore. I need to see her again because even after only spending a few hours with her, I’m clinging to that liberation. And then there’s that little voice in my head that keeps screaming that she’s different from all the other girls but there’s too damn much going on in my life right now to even think about that.
My phone rings and I jerk up, glancing down at my phone as my arm falls from my face. A Baton Rouge number flashes on the screen and I scoop it up, praying it’s not the morgue.
“Hello?”
“Hey. It’s Diego.”
My heart rate slows as I blow out a breath. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“You’re going to want to get down to the station.”
I jerk forward, spilling coffee on the floor. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I’ve got your brother in a cell here.”
“Jesus Christ,” I hiss, shaking my head as I stand and set the half empty cup of coffee down on the bookshelf. “Do I need to bring bail?”
“Naw, you’re good. They just kept him until he sobered up.”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
We hang up and I chuck my phone across the room, irritated when it lands on the bed instead of smashing against the wall. Fuck this shit. Why am I jumping up to go bail him out of jail when he’s just going to be right back there next week or the week after that? He’s fucking using me but both of us know that I’ll continue to let him.
Shoving myself up from the bed, I stomp across the room and grab my phone before going to the dresser and pulling the lockbox I keep in the underwear drawer out. I grab the chain from around my neck and pull it off before jamming the key into the lock and flipping the top open. Stacks of cash stare back at me and I grab one, thumbing through it before shoving the whole thing in my pocket. I know Rodriguez said he covered it but I have to pay him back for all the help he’s given me. I couldn’t even tell you how many times Rodriguez has kept my brother’s issues under wraps after he’s been arrested.