The drive to my house was agonising. Kurt offered to drive, but I refused – I needed something to concentrate on. Something to distract me. Something to prevent me from falling apart when I knew that Mom was sinking even lower than I was. Kurt held my hand for the entire drive, tightening his grip every few seconds. Despite feeling like I’d lost everything, I still had Kurt. And knowing he was there made it just that tiniest bit easier to keep driving.
We were silent the entire team, but I think I preferred it that way. Pretending like everything was okay would have just been wrong, but talking and over-analysing the situation without even knowing the details. I didn’t want to consider any of the possibilities. I didn’t even want to admit what was going on, to be honest. I didn’t care about anything except the safe return of my baby sister.
Driving into the driveway and parking in front of the garage door, I saw Charlotte’s pink bicycle in my peripheral vision. It was just sitting there, unused, probably discolouring in the harsh sun. I took deep, heavy breaths and avoided looking it directly as best I could. I didn’t need any reminders of the way Charlotte would ride freely in her flowery sundresses, laughing with her head tilted back and her beautiful, deep brown curls flying in the wind behind her. I didn’t need that.
After parking and breathing deeply, Kurt squeezed my hand once more. I looked at him once with a small, small smile, hoping that would convey the thanks I couldn’t speak. We both took our time getting out of the car and walking to the door. I didn’t knock, like I usually would – Charlotte would always be the one to answer the door.
It seemed like every single memory of Charlotte stabbed at my chest. I knew brothers wouldn’t usually feel this upset at the thought of their missing little sister. But I loved her. Perhaps it was the age difference that allowed us to be so close, or maybe it was just Charlotte’s unique personality. Either way, it didn’t matter. We were so extraordinarily close. She understood me better than anyone, and for someone that young to be so accepting, so carefree and so kind-hearted was rare. That made her disappearance so much harder for me to deal with.
Kurt wrapped his arm around my waist as we walked in. I knew Mom was a stress-baker, so I led Kurt straight into the kitchen. Sure enough, she was in the kitchen as we walked in. But she wasn’t baking. She was sitting on a bar stool against the breakfast bar bench, holding her mug of tea in her hands but staring off into space. Her eyes were glassy, and she looked pale and so ghost-like. She wasn’t wearing makeup, nor had she changed out of her pyjamas.
“Mom...” I trailed off, not knowing what to say but making my presence known nonetheless.
“Blaine, oh thank god,” she said, slamming her tea onto the bench, sliding off of her seat and rushing over to me. She threw her arms around me as I did the same, letting go of Kurt’s hand in favour of Mom, because at that moment, she needed me more. The minute Mom leant forward with her head resting on my shoulder, she started sobbing. Wailing, even. She was almost screaming in emotional pain and I finally let myself break down too. While I wasn’t anywhere near as loud, I was still losing it. A constant stream of tears could be found on both of our cheeks as we held onto each other as tight as possible. I was leaning on Mom and she was leaning on me. We were both trying to stay strong for each other, yet breaking down at the same time. Mom’s heartbreaking cries were echoing through the kitchen, and I’m sure they were echoing down the hallway and through the rest of the house too.
Mom’s cries must have been loud enough for anyone to hear, as Dad and Donovan came rushing into the room. They stopped at the door, before Dad walked over and put his arms around the two of us.
“It’ll be okay,” he said softly, as I heard his voice choke up just a little, too.
“It’ll be okay.”
xxxxxxxxxx
It took at least forty-five minutes for us call to calm down and collect ourselves. The tears had just run dry; the need to cry was still there. We found ourselves sitting the living room, much like we were just a few nights prior. Cold cups of tea sat in our hands, yet we still took sips – or pretended to – in an effort to remain somewhat normal. But the silence was too much for me. I needed to know the details.
“Mom? Dad?... what happened?”
Dad sighed, staring down at his feet.
“I have to know. I have to.”
Kurt put his arm around my back, squeezing my side and reminding me that he was there.
“I know you do,” Dad said. “I’ll tell you.”
“Refill?” Mom interrupted, leaping up from her chair and practically sprinting into the kitchen. There was no doubt what she was doing – she didn’t want to hear the details all over again.
“Charlotte... she’d been hiding in her room for a while. We didn’t think much of it, because she’s always writing songs and she’s always adamant that no one could hear them before they were finished... but it was breakfast time and she hadn’t responded to any of us when we’d called her name – and Don and his friend Josh were yelling too, you know?”
I felt a sudden pang of insecurity on hearing the name ‘Josh’. It couldn’t possibly be the same Josh. But given everything that the Josh I know was capable of, could it be possible that he was using my brother and my sister to get to me? To hurt me?
“...Your Mom and I went through the house calling her name, and then I heard a scream from the front of the house. Don and I ran to the front door, and just as we’d gotten outside I... fuck... I saw this guy take her. Just picked her up and threw her in the van like she was an unwanted package. She was screaming, she was crying, she was so desperate. She was broken...” Dad trailed off as his voice was hoarse and all choked up. He took a sip of his stone-cold tea and continued.
“I don’t even know who that bastard was. Dressed in all black, with some stubble, greying hair, but that’s all I could see. It was a split second. And if only I’d run further out, to get more details... anything... the license plate, the model of the car... the police are doing everything they can but... everyone here feels so fucking helpless, like it’s our fault...”
“Dad, it’s not your fault,” I interjected, not wanting anyone to feel any guilt that they shouldn’t. “How the hell could you have stopped it? What I want to know is how the hell he got through the gate in the first place.”
Donovan spoke up for the first time, though his voice was deep and low and had undertones of hurt emphasising every word he said. “She was next to the mailbox and the newspaper’s still there on the sidewalk. My guess is that she got it to try and be a help for us. You know. So we wouldn’t have to go out and get it.”
A small smile played on my lips as I couldn’t help but think that was such a typical thing for Charlotte to do. She was always helpful and considerate and thinking of ways to make life easier for everyone else. And for someone who hadn’t yet hit her teenage years, she was an incredible person.
And for someone to take her away from us was disgusting. It was horrible. Who could forcefully take a small girl away from her family like that?
“Are you okay, Don?” I asked, wanting him to know that nothing had changed since we’d cleared the air and that I still really cared about his feelings too.
“Yeah. I mean, I have Josh, so...”
“Can I ask you something?” Kurt said suddenly, surprising both myself and Donovan with his abrupt manner of speaking and the harshness to his tone.
“Uh, yeah?”
“Who is this Josh we keep hearing about? Can you tell us more about him?”
Donovan shifted in his seat. “Why do you want to know? No offence, but it’s like you’re interrogating me.”
“Because Blaine’s ex-boyfriend’s name is Josh. Josh Stevens. And he hurt Blaine in ways you could never imagine. It’s not up for me to tell the story but we just need to know more about him. Because if it is the same Josh then, as messed up as it sounds, it could have so much to do with Charlotte’s abduction.”
On the word abduction, Dad, Don and I both sat back as though something had stabbed us all in the chest. None of us wanted to see this as an act of violence or of hate. Despite not wanting to see it that way, I forced myself to actually look at the other side. I needed to get all the information necessary. I needed to get my sister back.
“Josh’s last name isn’t Stevens,” Don said quietly, “but if you want to meet him, you can. He’s actually just in my room on his computer. He knew you were coming and he didn’t want to intrude. But uh, I can go get him if you want?”
“That’d be great,” Kurt replied quickly, with that same tone in his voice as it had been before.
Donovan stood up and left to get Josh without a word, leaving Dad, Kurt and I alone in the room.
“Kurt, you didn’t have to do that,” I said, wanting to sound grateful yet wanting to pull him back at the same time.
“Blaine, you know what Josh Stevens is capable of, we just need to sort this out, okay? I’m doing it for your own good.”
“Excuse me,” Dad interrupted, just as I was opening my mouth, “but what the hell did this Josh guy do to you?”
I remained silent, avoiding Dad’s gaze. Given the situation, I didn’t think there was a need to bring more distress into the house.
“Blaine? Did he hurt you?”
I nodded.
“Emotionally?”
I nodded.
“Physically?”
I nodded again.
“Blaine, did he... god. Did he do... things... to you?” Dad asked, with a desperate, pleading voice.
I nodded. It was all I could do. Detail would be the worst thing to get into, but Dad was begging for more information.
“Tell me. What did he do?”
“Dad, not now, okay? Can we not? It was over a year ago, I’m over it, let’s concentrate on Charlotte.”
I failed to mention how Josh’s reappearance and psychotic behaviour had broken me not too long before then.
“You need to tell me, Blaine.”
“Why? Why do I need to tell you now when your daughter is missing?!” I shouted, spitting out every word with all the rage and anger I could, releasing all the hate I had bottled up inside of me. My shouting was followed with moments of silence, as Dad sat back in his seat and chose to stare at his shoes again.
“I’m... god. I’m sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have shouted.”
“It’s okay, Blaine. We’re not exactly in our right minds. We’re not in a position to talk about... deep stuff. But... we’ll have to talk about it at some stage, okay?”
“Yeah, I know.”
We heard footsteps on the wooden floorboards leading down the hallway and into the living room. Donovan stepped inside, dragging someone in by the hand. Kurt and I both stood abruptly, hand-in-hand, united as one. Josh finally took a step into the room and there stood a tall, skinny black-haired guy with an eyebrow piercing and with a tattoo of a treble clef behind his ear.
“Hi, I’m Josh Parker,” he introduced himself, stepping forward to offer a handshake.
I took his extended hand and shook it warmly, introducing myself. Because this really wasn’t the Josh I knew.
It was a completely different guy.