Page 73 of Pieces of Me

CHAPTER 15

Rylan tossed and turned in his narrow bed, unable to sleep. After a hot shower and a sandwich, he’d bummed a couple of ibuprofen off Katey and Val for the soreness in his legs and back he could already feel building, then decided to try and grab a quick nap around eight p.m., knowing it would probably be a late night.

His body was tired, but his mind wouldn’t stop racing, thoughts of Scott, past and present, chasing each other around until finally Rylan gave up and pulled his laptop to him, propping himself up on some pillows. He opened his Gmail account and a blank e-mail, his finger hovering over the H key, knowing if he pressed it, Heather’s address would autofill. He didn’t press it, letting his hand flop back to the bed while he stared at the blinking cursor, debating with himself.

He remembered those first days after Scott’s disappearance with crystal clarity: Heather’s sneering certainty that Scott would be back once his money ran out, her confidence eroding as the days and then weeks went by with no word. Because Scott was an adult―and all Rylan could do was tell everyone he’d left of his own free will with another adult―the police refused to get involved.

Armed with the name “Joel,” he and Bob had undertaken their own mini-investigation, asking questions, eventually learning from Donna the bar owner that Joel was most likely Joel Tanner, the disgraced ex-student teacher who now worked at the Home Depot out near the Navy base. Bob drove Rylan out one afternoon to confront him, Rylan shaking with the anticipation of getting some answers.

“I dropped him off at the Greyhound station,” Tanner claimed when questioned. “He asked me to, said he was going to California to be a star.”

Rylan didn’t believe him for one minute and, when he refused to say anything else before walking away without another word, shouted after him, “I know you’re lying, you piece of shit!”

Bob wrapped his arms around him when he would have charged after him, pulling him close, and Rylan broke down in the lumber section of Home Depot, sobbing out his worry and grief on his dad’s shoulder. He hadn’t wanted to tell Bob the details of Heather and Scott’s fight, hesitant once again to paint his dad’s wife in a negative light, to get in the middle and force his dad to pick sides. He was so terrified of losing yet another person he loved. All Bob knew was that Heather and Scott had an argument, and Scott ran away with Tanner. Rylan didn’t even tell Bob about the stolen money, wanting to make it as easy as possible for Scott to come back…

But weeks had become months, and no word was heard from Scott, no trace of him ever turning up. A desperate visit to the Greyhound station revealed nothing, the elderly counter clerk staring at Rylan with bored, uncaring eyes. “I ain’t remembered what I had for breakfast this mornin’. You think I gon’ remember some punk kid?”

The only conclusion anyone could draw was that Scott had indeed left the area, whether on a bus or with Tanner, and from there the trail couldn’t have been colder. Nothing left to do but wait, and when months turned into years, the hole Scott had left behind slowly closed, the questions remaining but with no way to find any answers. All Rylan could do was believe that out there somewhere Scott was alive and well and happy…

And he was. Oh God. He was every one of those things, here in Phoenix, Arizona, of all places. Rylan stared at the blank e-mail screen again, wondering what to do. Scott’s mother had done so much damage to her son, but yet…she was his mother, and during that first year after Scott’s disappearance, Rylan had watched her slowly implode. Heather put on a swaggering front, bad-mouthing Scott to all who would listen, calling him stupid and ungrateful, insisting he’d come back as soon as he failed at whatever it was he was trying to do.

But he hadn’t come back, and Heather seemed lost without him. She drank even more, she smoked even more, she made choices… Rylan winced, fingering the scar high on his cheekbone, the memories of yet another awful night flooding him.

He set the laptop aside and pulled his phone to him. Scrolling through his contacts until he reached the “Gs,” he stabbed a button and listened to the ringing of a phone thousands of miles away.

“My man!” Gabriel’s familiar voice came clearly over the line, and Rylan relaxed back into his pillows, fondness replacing the pain.

“How’s it hanging, G?”

“Can’t complain.” Rylan heard rustling, like Gabriel was turning over in bed, and he suddenly remembered with horror that Florida was three hours ahead. He apologized profusely, but Gabriel laughed it off.

“You know I’d talk to you any time of day, Rylan. How the fuck you been?”

They spent a few minutes catching up on the superficialities, and then Rylan said quietly, “I found him, G.”

Gabriel didn’t even pretend not to know who Rylan was talking about, and caught his breath. “Shit. Where?”

When Rylan told him, Gabriel let out a long whistle. “Holy fuck. There in Phoenix? Working in a gay club?”

“It’s not just a gay club, G. It’s―” Rylan gestured helplessly, even knowing Gabriel couldn’t see him. “It’s high-end, one of those places even straight celebrities party at when they’re in town, and they wind up with their picture in People Magazine. Scott is the headline host, the VIP entertainment. He’s―it’s incredible.”

“Goddamn. Good for him.” Gabriel, of course, knew the whole sordid story behind Scott’s disappearance, and he’d been an absolute rock for Rylan during those first dark months, and beyond. He was truly Rylan’s best friend. “What the fuck happened to him? Has he been there this whole time?”

Rylan shook his head. “Wish I knew, man. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, and we’re not close enough anymore for me to press him. Maybe someday he’ll tell me.”

A short silence fell while Gabriel processed that, and then he asked quietly, “You gonna tell his mom?”

Rylan heaved a sigh. “That’s the trillion-dollar question, G, and the exact thing I’m wrestling with right now. On the one hand, how can I not? This is her child. She hasn’t known if he’s dead or alive for six years!”

“And on the other, he’s a grown man and more than capable of picking up a phone.” Gabriel paused. “If he wanted her to know anything about him, he would have called and told her himself, and all I can assume is that he has his reasons for staying gone. If you want my two cents―and you wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t―stay out of it, babe.”

“I will. I needed to hear you say it, too.”

They both sighed this time.

“You don’t talk to her much yourself anymore,” Gabriel went on, his voice soft. “You, and Scott, don’t owe her a goddamn thing.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right, G. Thanks.”