Page 87 of Tru Blue
“Tru—”
“Quincy’s gone missing. He checked himself out of rehab an hour ago. I have to go find him. The kids are staying at Bear’s.”
How much more could one man endure?
Before she could find her voice, he said, “It’s my fault. I begged him to stay in the program so he could apply for guardianship and the kids could stay in the family. It was too much pressure. I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No,” came out like a plea. This wasn’t his fault. It was hers.
“Go to your place in case he gets high and shows up at mine. I’ll call you when I know something.”
“Tru—” The line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
TRUMAN FLEW DOWN the driveway at breakneck speed. He’d been out looking for Quincy for hours when Gemma had called and said she was with him. He’s at your place. Come home. He slammed on the brakes in front of Whiskey Automotive, cut the engine, and bolted toward the back of the building.
Gemma stood in the yard facing away from him. She turned as he approached. His eyes moved past her to Quincy, though he spoke to Gemma. “I told you to go home.”
“I didn’t listen,” she said with a shaky voice, drawing his attention from his brother, who stood rigid and tense before him, to her.
Gemma’s eyes were red and puffy, and fresh tears streaked her cheeks. Fire flamed inside Truman. He took a step toward his brother, ready to wring his neck if he’d touched her. “What have you done?”
Gemma grabbed his arm, stopping him from advancing on Quincy. “He told me. He told me everything.”
Truman’s gut wrenched, stealing the air from his lungs. “What…?”
“Everything, Tru.” She tightened her hold on his arm.
Truman couldn’t breathe. He’d gotten the best news of his life only a few short hours earlier at the courthouse, and now his world was crashing down around him again. He glared at Quincy, disbelief weighing down every word. “What have you done?”
Quincy stepped into the path of the porch light. His eyes were damp, his expression sorrowful and unmistakably relieved. “I couldn’t do it, bro. I can’t let your life fall apart because of me. Not anymore. Not if I want to stay clean.”
Truman’s world shifted on its axis. He sank to the steps and buried his face in his hands. “You have no idea what you’ve done. Now she’s part of it.”
“No,” Gemma said. “He’s going to the police tomorrow. He’ll tell them everything. I won’t get in trouble.”
“Why, Quincy?” Truman implored, unable to look at Gemma, afraid his lie had ruined everything. “Why would you do this? I told you I’d figure something out.”
Quincy drew his shoulders back, holding Truman’s gaze with confidence and determination Truman had never seen. “Because you are still my stronghold, my straight arrow to follow, man. Because if I don’t get this shit out of my head, I’ll turn back to drugs to escape it. Why do you think I tried them in the first place? It’s too much, knowing I fucked up your life. And, bro, it’s the right thing to do.”
“You can’t do this, Quin,” Truman pleaded. “I’ll go back to prison for perjury. So will you. God knows how long they’ll put you away for what happened, and I’ll lose the kids. Then what? What happens to them? What happens to you?”
“I don’t have all the answers,” Quincy said. “But I need to do this. And I’m not done with rehab. Not by a long shot.”
“I can’t save you or help the kids if you do this,” Truman said more to himself than to Quincy.
“You can’t save me, Truman. Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? Only I can save myself,” Quincy said. “And I’ve been thinking about the kids. Maybe Bear or Dixie can raise them if this goes south.”
“You won’t need Bear or Dixie. I’ll step in. You know I will.” Tears slid down Gemma’s cheeks as she crouched before Truman, who was still sitting on the steps. “You didn’t commit the crime.” It was a statement, not a question, said with awe, not accusation.
