Love Next Door (Lakeside 1)

CHAPTER 25

OH, BROTHER

Dillion

“What do you mean he’s not in his room? Where would he go? Did one of his friends pick him up? Did you try his phone?” I’m grabbing a drink with Tawny and Allie when my mother calls me, frantic because she can’t find my brother.

“He said he was going to take a shower, but that was more than an hour ago,” my mom says, her voice wavering. “I thought maybe he was planning to see friends, but we called everyone, and no one has heard from him. I called him, but he’s not picking up. Maybe he’s hanging out with someone we haven’t thought to call.”

“I’ll be home in ten.” I throw a twenty on the table and grab my purse. “I gotta go, Billy’s missing.”

Allie tries to hand me back the money. “Did one of the guys he hangs with pick him up?”

I shake my head, both to taking the money and the friend situation. “None of the guys have seen him. He said he was going to take a shower, and now they have no idea where he is.”

“Is there anywhere you want us to look?” Tawny asks.

“Maybe the beach? Although I don’t know how he’d get there unless someone is covering for him. I can’t see him getting very far with a freaking cast. I’ll call you if I find him.”

“And we’ll call you if we hear anything from anyone.”

“Thanks.” I rush out of the bar and hop into the truck, putting it in gear before I even have my seat belt fastened. I take the roads faster than I should, terrified that something has happened to my brother. He’s been home for weeks, and other than Bernie’s, he’s only gone to the beach party and the bar. Both times he got passed-out drunk. He hasn’t been seeing friends at all, come to think of it.

My heart is in my throat the entire drive home, and when I get there, both my mom and dad have their phones to their ears. I make a beeline for Billy’s room and nearly gag when I open the door. It smells like body odor, cheese, feet, and stale beer. There’s a black garbage bag beside his bed, and if I had to guess, I’d say that’s most definitely the source of the stale-beer smell.

I grab a corner of his sheet and tug, pulling it free from the mattress. Underneath are a whole bunch of nudie magazines and used tissues, which is gross, but what’s more worrisome are the books on spy theory. Billy has always been fascinated by conspiracy theories, but lately he’s been more paranoid than I remember him ever being before. I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it than just the books he’s reading.

I scan his room and finally find his phone, lying on the floor, half under his bed. I pick it up and hit the screen. He has a ridiculous number of missed calls and messages, many of them from the friends we’ve tried to call tonight.

I punch in the number one four times in a row and smile briefly at his predictability before I start scanning the most recent messages. The more I see, the more worried I become, because that paranoia that I’ve noticed is in full effect in his messages with his friends. And they’ve been reaching out while he’s been staying quiet, saying he can’t message because everyone is watching him.

A knock at the front door has me dropping the phone on the bed and rushing back out to the living room. I prepare myself for the worst-case scenario, like the sheriff coming to tell us he’s in jail or, worse, that they’ve found his body.

I throw the door open and suck in a relieved, albeit confused breath when it’s not the sheriff at the door, but Van and my brother.

Billy’s shoulders are curled forward, his head down, and his teeth chattering. It’s not particularly cold, but the nights are cooler these days, and the water temperature is dropping along with it.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried sick! Why are you both wet?” I shoot an accusatory glare at Van.

“Billy was down at the lake, going for a swim.”

“What in the world would possess you to go for a swim at night with a freaking cast on? It’s not even the waterproof kind! You could’ve drowned! Mom!” I shout over my shoulder. “Grab me some towels.” I usher my brother inside. “Jeez, you’re freezing.”

“I’m not that cold.” His teeth clack together.

“Really? Because the teeth chattering tells a different story.”

Mom appears with a single towel. “Oh!” She glances between Van and Billy. “What happened?” She rushes over and drapes the towel around Billy’s shoulders.

Van is wet from the waist down, and shoeless. “Did you go in after him?”