Page 90 of Web of Lies
Zepp laughs, too, pushing a foot into his brother’s side. “Chase is MIA,” he says with a sad sigh.
“We’ve given him all weekend to end his funk,” Seger says, a sadness appearing in his eyes.
“His funk?” I ask with a raised brow, like I haven’t investigated all of them already. I know he gets into these funks from snooping on his records.
His doctor called it the Winter Blues, but, with his listed symptoms, Chase suffers from depression. The kind of depression that keeps him in bed for days on end, unable to move or eat, drowning him in miserable thoughts. If I had put two and two together, I would have gone to him and tried to help.
Zepp licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah—uh, sometimes we can’t get him out of bed for a few days after something big happens. He just—kind of—” his shoulder moves toward his ear.
I stop mid-bite, furrowing my brows. “Is that why I didn’t see him in class after all this started?” I search the twins’ eyes, and they both nod, confirming my fears. Well, fuck that. My Chase will not suffer alone. Why hadn’t they gone to him and helped? Maybe they know how to do this better than me, but I won’t give up. On any of them.
Chewing the last of my food, I stand up, wiping my hands down the length of my leggings. “Then we have one day to get him out of bed. Let’s go.” I wave towards the door, gaining their interest.
“Uh—Kace, he usually has to work through this on his own,” Zepp says, placing his food down on my kitchen counter. Running a hand through his hair and down his face, he sighs.
“Yeah, he’s fucking impossible to convince everything is okay,” Seger says, grunting as he climbs to his feet. “But if he gets out of bed for anyone—” He gestures toward me with a knowing grin plastered on his handsome face. “Just walk in there naked or something. That’ll spring him into action and knock his funk right off.” He smirks, playfully winking at me.
Zepp mutters under his breath but agrees it might help. I know depression isn’t something I can shake from him with my nakedness or words, but he needs to know I care about him, too. He’s seen me at my lowest point so far, and now I’m ready to see him.
Zepp joins us in our walk to Chase’s apartment, knocking as we stand awkwardly in front of the door. My fingers fidget when the door swings open, and instead of Chase’s charming face greeting us, it’s a scowl. A bitter, mean scowl on a beautiful face. Her blue eyes glue to me, outrage sparking within them, showing her genuine feelings. It’s no secret Ainsley Benoit does not like me one bit. I just haven’t figured out why.
“What are you doing here?” She spits at me, hatred lacing her tone.
“Whoa, whoa, Ains, she’s with us,” Seger says, holding up his hands in innocence.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “This is all her fault. How dare you bring her here.” Her gaze scolds me from where I stand, burning me at the stake for even considering coming here.
“Ains, we’re here to help,” Zepp says, pushing his way past her into the apartment, knocking her to the side so we can all enter.
“He’ll be fine without her here. She can leave now,” Ainsley huffs, folding her arms across her chest.
My eyes narrow in on her, but I keep my mouth shut. There’s no point in adding fuel to her fire. She doesn’t appreciate my being here, but that’s tough shit. Chase needs help, and I want to help him. So as Zepp, Seger, and Ainsley battle it out in the middle of the living room, I sneak away towards the only closed door in the apartment. Thankfully, almost every apartment is designed the same: same layout, same appliances, same everything, so I know exactly what room Chase is in. Some apartments are fancier than others, and Chase’s is no exception. It’s just as updated as Ainsley’s with new appliances, and newer furniture.
I slip into the darkened bedroom unnoticed, letting my eyes adjust to the utter darkness surrounding me. To some people, it might seem like a nightmare, but to me, it’s soothing for a moment. A blackout curtain holds the sun’s dying rays back from the room, making the room as dark as midnight. The blankets on the messy bed shuffle as my back leans against the door. Chase huddles himself further into the bed, groaning at the presence of someone else. Muttering words like “Go away, Ains,” and a lot of “Fuck off for now.”
A breathy laugh passes through my lips. His hand waves in the air, muttering again, trying to shoo me away. Maybe I should get naked to get his attention? I take a step forward, eyes peering around at the destroyed room. Dirty clothes are piled high in every corner of the room; actually, they’re everywhere. Does this man do laundry at all?
Dirty dishes stained with old food, old pizza boxes, and there’s even an old, moldy sandwich sitting on his dresser, half-eaten. Ew. My face scrunches in disgust, but I remember this is how it goes. Depression takes you prisoner, holding you down, drowning you in the depths of your mind. It swallows you in sadness, uncleanliness, and numbness. Chase may seem like his life is together, but it’s not. He’s holding a lot on his plate, and when that plate bursts at the seams, he shatters to pieces on the ground, waiting in the depths of his comforter to re-glue himself for another day. So, for now, I’ll try to be that glue. I may not be super glue or industrial strength, but I’ll try my best to Elmer’s him back together, just enough for him to resurface.
I stalk toward the bed and stand there with my hands on my hips. Chase covers his head, groaning, refusing to move. So, if he won’t move, I’ll join him, fully clothed this time. I kick off my shoes and crawl up the full-size bed. Chase shifts again, uncovering his messy head.
One confused, gray eye greets me. “What the shit?” he whispers, looking back at the closed door and then at me.
I settle my head onto his pillow, pulling the warm comforter up to my chin. A small smile falls on my lips, our faces inches apart, breathing each other’s breaths. “A little birdy told me you were having a hard time.” I run a finger over his forehead, moving his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes.
He visibly swallows at our closeness, shutting his eyes. “Yeah, something like that,” he whispers through a rasp, reveling in my fingers working through his dirty hair.
My fingertips massage through his hair, scraping my nails against his scalp. If he were a cat, he’d purr from the sensation, but since he’s not, I look at his slack face for his approval. I’m still not sure how to approach this situation and help him. I’ve never been good at comforting people appropriately. I always say the wrong things or do the wrong things. For some reason, it spikes my anxiety to think I’m doing something wrong. But I have to stop. These are my friends now. They know my secrets, and I sure as hell don’t want to fuck it up.
“What’s going through that brain of yours?” I whisper, swallowing hard, as his hand settles on my hip. His fingers flex and tighten on me.
“It’s-it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I promise,” he whispers, eyes avoiding mine. But his body betrays him by scooting closer to me, pulling me into him.
Our chests rest together, pushing against each other with every inhale. Our hot breaths mingle, hearts pounding a frantic lustful beat, thumping as one. He clutches onto me like a life raft in rough waters, clinging to the collar of my shirt.
“Chase,” I whisper, my breath breezing past his cheeks. “It’s not nothing. Something caused this. You said you were here for me. Well, I’m here for you too. Okay?” Breaths hitch in his chest as his fingers work over my jaw. Slowly, he creates a trail of fire over my clothed breasts, my abdomen, and finally, he settles on my hip, squeezing me in his hand.
Nodding his head, his forehead rests against mine, melting our bodies into one lustful puddle of burning need. Those gray eyes I once deemed sinister fade into the shadows, his demons swimming to the forefront.
