I started, both at the word and the flat tone. “Then I’ll message you.”
“No. Don’t come here. Don’t message me. Don’t anything.”
“But...you’re my brother.”
His hard-won composure threatened to snap, but he didn’t deny it.
“Okay,” I said. Neither of us moved. “Will you...when you’re ready?”
He looked at the crumpled paper still clutched in his fist. “No. It doesn’t matter.”
My eyes bulged as I leaned forward. “It doesn’t matter? How can you say that?” The fear and anger I understood—they were both still roiling under my skin—but indifference played no part in my emotions, and I didn’t believe it did for him either. “How can you look at your mom and not scream?”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “She’s dead.”
Chapter 9 (#u6a963fff-0fd4-5720-87cf-eb6ead14ac17)
Brandon didn’t look back as he went inside, and I walked slowly to my car, only to stop in the act of unlocking my door. Where was I supposed to go? Back home so I could watch my parents cuddle on the couch? I couldn’t make Brandon exhume a past that was truly buried in his case, but neither could I ignore what had already been dug up.
I dropped my forehead on the hood and let the sunbaked heat from the metal seep into me, but it couldn’t thaw the ice inside. I couldn’t face Dad or Mom. I looked at my phone, but I couldn’t call Selena and do to her what I’d inadvertently done to Brandon, my brother. That word crashed horrifically into my heart. I had a brother. I could almost have been happy about that, except it meant Dad had committed adultery. He’d cheated on Mom.
I didn’t understand it. How could he have cheated on Mom? How could he have had another child? How could they still be together, happy? Did he know about Brandon? Did anyone? Had Dad loved Brandon’s mom? Had he planned on leaving Mom for her? Did he know she’d died? When did she die? Brandon was as devastated by the DNA test results as I was, but who else knew? Just his mom? Her husband? Dad? Mom? Did Selena know? I dismissed that thought immediately. She would never have helped me test Dad if she thought it might lead to this.
I turned around and gazed at the darkening sky. At home we’d be getting ready for dinner. Mom cooked occasionally, but Dad usually ran the kitchen. Lasagna, I decided. He made that every week, and we were due. There’d be a salad and maybe ice cream after that. My eyes flooded, blurring the sky overhead.
“Hey, Dana, wait up.”
My head snapped straight and I saw the guy from Jungle Juice—Chase, the wrong McCormick. He’d ditched his uniform polo shirt, revealing a plain white T beneath it. He didn’t look pissed, like he was coming to add to his cousin’s stay-away warning. Instead he glanced at the tall foam cup in his hand before jogging toward me. He slowed when he saw my face, but he didn’t stop. I was very obviously crying, so I didn’t rush to wipe the tears from my cheeks as he drew nearer. What did it matter if he saw me cry? What did any of it matter?
“This seemed like a good idea from across the parking lot.”
“What?” I asked, only half seeing Chase and not caring even that much. He held out his cup and an unopened straw.
“Might help the low blood sugar.”
I looked at the drink, then at him.
“You looked like you were ready to pass out when you left,” he said, not lowering the drink. “Take it—make one of us feel better.”
I took the cup and automatically ripped off the straw’s wrapper before I jabbed it in to take a sip. The drink was fruity and cold, adding to the numbness I felt inside. My gaze went past Chase to Jungle Juice. Brandon was hidden inside. My breath hitched.
“So did you find who you were looking for?”
“No.” What I’d found was so much worse. My eyes pricked again. “I was supposed to be meeting my grandfather for the first time. Turns out I got some bad information.”
“Oh, wow. That sucks.”
There was something about him being a complete stranger that made it harder to lie, so I didn’t. “It really does.” I brushed away the last of my tears. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.” I was frozen, stuck. I couldn’t go back, and without Brandon’s help, I couldn’t go forward. I couldn’t even leave the parking lot.
Chase’s gaze lingered on me, like he was considering something. I must have looked pretty unstable. “I’m fine. I just needed a minute to...” I stopped. I couldn’t sell fine with my red eyes and damp cheeks. “Thank you for the smoothie—that was nice of you. I will be fine. You don’t have to stay or anything.”
He glanced down at the keys he withdrew from his pocket. “I didn’t have the greatest day either, and I was thinking about doing something—” he huffed out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a breath “—the opposite of crying in a parking lot.” His gaze rose to mine and held. “You should come with me.”
That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. I stared at him, and then an unguarded laugh overtook me. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Which part?”
I shook my head slightly. “All of it.” I couldn’t get my brain to work right after that conversation with Brandon. And in that moment, I didn’t really want it to. “You’re serious?”
His answer was immediate. “Yeah.”
“Where?”
He smiled.
* * *
I parked my car beside Chase’s, sent a text to Mom that I was hanging out with Jessalyn, got out and looked at the location I’d followed him to.
We’d driven no more than ten miles from Jungle Juice to an area that looked like it might have once been a nice neighborhood but had long since deteriorated due to neglect. The highlights consisted of a strip mall, empty save for a single payday-advance place, and a seemingly abandoned gas station on the corner covered in graffiti. Chase and I were in the parking lot of a six-story tan brick building flanked on either side by empty lots overgrown with weeds so tall they would have reached my waist.
There wasn’t a single person in sight and I hadn’t seen a car drive past since we pulled up. It wasn’t full dark out yet, or I’d have already been back in my car. As it was, I kept my phone in my hand and my car between me and Chase, just in case.
“What is this?”
“This,” he said, “is the Desert Breeze apartment building, and it’s scheduled for demolition in two weeks.” He nodded his chin toward a white sign covered in warnings like Condemned and Do Not Enter in big bold letters and stared at the building like he was seeing a lot more than I was.
“What exactly are we supposed to be doing here?”
“I used to live here a long time ago. It’s empty and they’re blowing it up, so it doesn’t matter, but this was the last place I saw my dad before he took off, and smashing it is the closest I’ll ever get to—” He inhaled through his nose, paused, then looked at me. “I figured you might need to break something too.” Then he sighed. “I didn’t really think this through. I don’t have anything to use to even break a window.”
I let my gaze drift back to the building, taking in the caution tape and the boarded-up windows. I slipped my phone back into my pocket, then headed to the trunk of my car. I popped it open and pulled out a wooden baseball bat.
Chase watched me the whole time, not smiling exactly, but something close to it. “You keep a bat in your trunk?”
“I keep multiple bats in my trunk.” I offered him the wooden bat. “This one’s for you.” Then I pulled out another. “So which window looks good?”
Getting in didn’t turn out to be a problem. There was a garden-level unit with large—for me and possibly somewhat tight for Chase—windows that were no match for my bat. At that first tinkling sound of breaking glass, I felt shockingly alive, and even more shockingly detached from anything having to do with my family.
After kicking out the remaining shards, Chase slipped through the broken window first. As I’d guessed, it was a tight fit around his shoulders, and he did get cut a little on one arm, but when he looked back at me, I followed him without hesitating. I didn’t get sliced—unlike him, I wasn’t built like a superhero—but the feel of Chase’s hands on either side of my waist helping me down was unexpectedly jarring on the bare skin below my slightly bunched up shirt. His hands didn’t linger, though, and neither did my sudden awareness of him.
There was no power, which meant no lights, so we used our phones to see. The glass crunched under our feet as we crossed the dark room and entered the hall. Chase led us up four flights of stairs and down another hall until we stood in front of a door that no longer had a number on it.
“This was yours.” I wasn’t asking a question, just saying something to break him out of his stare.
“Yeah.” He reached for the doorknob, but it didn’t turn.
“Good thing we don’t need a key, huh?” I tapped the door with my bat, reminding Chase of the one he held in his hand.