She can barely move her head, and he kisses her lips reassuring her. I turn away. What the fuck is going on here? I pull Charlotte aside and promise I’ll call her as soon as I know what the hell we’re doing. She understands, quickly jumping up and hugging
me before I race out of the building to follow him.
“Fucking tell me what you’re doing!” I shout at him.
“I have someone who can help.”
“Well, I’m coming with you,” I demand.
“Fuck off, Edwards. You don’t want to be involved in my shit.”
“If your shit will help us find my nephew, then you better believe I’m going to be involved,” I seethe. “We’re taking my car.”
The car is clocking record speed, but I don’t give a fuck, following his directions to a run-down part of town. The streets are lined with dilapidated homes and groups of teens hanging around watching us drive with caution. I pull into the driveway of a brown brick home and turn off the engine. The front porch light is on, and all the windows are dark. A shadow peaks through the curtains. It’s times like this I wish I carried a gun. In the distance, the sound of a car backfiring startles us.
Julian looks reluctant at first but quickly exits the car. He leans back into my window, commanding me to stay in the car.
I wait impatiently, giving him a few more minutes before I go after him.
He emerges with his jacket closed, nervously checks his surroundings, then hops back into the car, disturbed with a look of sheer terror in his eyes. It would be proper manners is to ask him if he is okay, but fuck that bullshit, where’s my nephew?
“A lady and man accompanied with a young boy have checked into a Motel 6 about three hours north.”
“How the fuck did you find that out?”
“Just drive. Now.”
I start the engine and reverse out of the driveway, the tires screeching as I slam my foot on the brake and shove the stick into gear. He gives me the directions, and I punch them into my GPS.
“Now, fucking tell me how you found that out?” I yell at him.
He doesn’t tell me. He throws a bag carrying white substance into my lap. I lower my head to look.
Is this what I think it is? Fuck, it’s a bag of cocaine.
“Why is this shit in my car?”
“Because my dealer has connections, and to use them, I had to buy this.”
He grits his teeth, and his knuckles are pale white. He used to be an addict. The first rational thought is I need to get rid of this shit. I’ve been there before, succumbed to the white acid to take away the pain. It’s a difficult addiction to overcome, and thank God, I had sense to back away when I knew I was hitting that slippery slope. I am all too familiar with that ‘high,’ and for the sake of finding my nephew, Julian cannot be near this stuff.
We drive down the open freeway without saying a word to each other. An hour into the drive, I pull over along the road in a dark and deserted spot.
“Why are you pulling over?” he asks angrily
“We’re dumping this shit now. You can’t be near it.”
I exit the car and walk outside a few feet from where we’re parked and spread the powder amongst the trees. Done. No fucking temptation when we are looking for Andy. I drive off, and a few moments later, he begins to talk.
“I wouldn’t have used it,” he mumbles.
“That’s what all addicts say.”
“Yeah, well, I fucking mean it. That stuff is deadly. If it weren’t for you coming back into Charlie’s life, I wouldn’t have fucking touched it again.”
My blood has risen, steaming like boiled water. The nerve of this fucking idiot. “You’re going to blame that on me?”
“You have no idea how hard it is to watch someone die in front of your eyes. Watching as their body incinerates, and you can’t do a damn thing to stop it.”