“Forgot to invite me to the party?” I drawl, and Scott claps his hands happily.
I swear, I love this kid, and he sometimes gets my mood, but more often than not he really fucking doesn’t.
“Ash.” Tyler snorts.
“Not funny, man.” I shift Scott onto my other arm and pat his small back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting to talk about Zane?”
“Because we didn’t plan it.” He waves his cell phone at me. “I was just about to call you, so why don’t you take a breath and sit down with us?”
Oh. Okay, so I’m not in the best of moods lately. Big surprise.
Swallowing past the knot in my throat, I sit and slide a flailing Scott down to the floor to strut his stuff around the room and explore.
“Kay.” I glance around at their serious faces. “Where is Z-man?”
“Didn’t come in today. He asked me to cancel his appointments.”
“Third day in a row,” Tyler says.
Ever since that day at the agency. “Hell.”
“He needs time to work through this,” Rafe says, brow creased. “Koko says they gave him pills to take, and they take some adjusting. He won’t feel like himself for a while.”
It takes me a moment to remember that Koko is what Rafe calls Dakota. In fact, that’s what all the members of her punk rock group call her.
And oh shit… Pills.
I sit there, numb, watching Scott as he picks up a pen from the floor, licks it and puts it back down. Somewhere in my mind I know I should have stopped him, told him it’s dirty and find something else for him to play with, but… Pills. Drugs.
Fuck.
“It’s just a sedative to help him sleep,” Rafe says, seeming to sense my agitation. “He shouldn’t be taking them for long, just to see if they help. I check everything he’s taking, don’t worry about it.”
I actually wasn’t thinking about addiction issues, though I should have, sitting there with Rafe and Tyler who’d both been through that hell.
“Good. I just…” Fuck. I nod. “That’s good. He’s getting help. Tyler was right.” I can’t bear to look at my brother. Not that he’d gloat—he cares about Zane as much as all of us—but speaking the words is hard. “You were right, Ty. It wasn’t true.”
“But you don’t believe it,” Dylan says, and time jerks to a stop.
I look up, mouth open, and find everyone watching me. Even Scott has stopped licking the edge of Tyler’s chair and gazes at me, his gray eyes huge.
“I…” I choke. “What?”
“You didn’t believe that Zane’s mind made this shit up back when we first discussed this, and you don’t believe it now.”
“Yeah, well. Makes no difference.”
Tyler reaches over and slaps me on the back. The look on his face is sympathetic.
I don’t need sympathy. I need Zane to be fine. I need the world to get back on track. And I need this damn feeling of wrongness to stop twisting me up inside so that I can fucking breathe again.
“Tell us what those papers said. Zane’s folder.” Rafe leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “No matter what Ash believes, what any of us believe…” His gaze is uncertain. “Let’s go over this one last time.”
***
“So nowhere in those documents was the name of this guy mentioned? This Tyrell?” Dylan accepts a fluffy bit of lint from Scott who smiles toothily at him and continues with his exploration.
I keep an eye on my son as he moves toward the desk. “No. Or any address in Wausau.”