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??Is he…” She hesitates. “Is it a mental problem? I don’t mean anything bad by that, so many people have them.”
I don’t know if to yell or fucking weep. “No, he’s just tired. Lots on his mind right now.” I reach for her hand, shake it. “Can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s quite all right.” She smiles. “Is he your brother? You don’t look alike, but—”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “Yes, he is.”
***
I buy some bread and cake off the woman to thank her for taking care of Zane, then head back to the car and climb inside.
Tyler receives the paper bag and leans his head back with a sigh. “We’ll talk later,” he says quietly, and I shoot him a narrow look.
“What—?”
He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, and I turn to see.
Zane is fast asleep, sprawled in the back seat, an arm thrown over his eyes, the colorful ink catching the low rays of the sun. Scott is still asleep, too, his little face scrunched up with some dream.
I fold my arms on the wheel and drop my forehead on them. “Jesus fuck. What are we gonna do?”
“Drive Zane home,” Tyler says, the voice of reason. “And get the truth of what happened out of him.”
“Could the pills he took have done this, like make him—?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Something else happened.” He pats my arm. “Come on, Ash, let’s go now before you crash, too.”
“Why would I crash?”
“You’ve been strung like the lights on a Christmas tree, so just shut up and drive. I know what I’m talking about.”
So I do. I take us home.
***
Dakota isn’t at their apartment, and a call to Audrey confirms she’s with her. They’ve taken the kids to the mall. When she asks if everything’s okay, I tell her yes.
There’s time to discuss this with her later.
After I’ve sat Zane down and dragged the truth out of him.
He sinks into the sofa and puts his head in his hands. “Hell.”
“What were you doing there, Z-man?” I glance at Tyler who’s talking on the phone to Rafe, telling him we found Zane. “Weren’t you supposed to be at home, resting?”
He looks up, his gaze flat. “I had an appointment with the psychiatrist. I drove there, and… Fuck, the pick-up. I left it there.”
“We’ll go get it. Now tell me what happened.”
“I don’t fucking know.”
And that was what I was afraid of. A chill snakes down my spine. “Shut up. You have to remember something.”
“Because it will make your life easier? We’ve already established that my memory is shit, and we should never fucking trust it.”
I sink down on the sofa beside him, my knees suddenly weak. “Dammit.”
He groans. “Sorry, Ash. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
