wild star| ongoing

twelve

CHAPTER 12:
November 13th, 2015
• • •

Keith couldn't concentrate.

Every single thought he had revolved around Brandy, River, and their whereabouts. After leaving Long Island, he had driven back to their apartment in the Bronx, expecting to find them there. It was a stupid, childish expectation, but he had hoped that she would be home when he returned. She wasn't, and for the entire afternoon and evening, he spammed her with calls and messages she didn't even listen to or look at.

He was getting impatient. Each voice message was getting harsher, each text message was getting filthier. With every swig of the bottle he took, knocking back beer after beer, he could feel that incessant buzz set in his chest, robbing him of self-restraint.

Keith slammed the glass bottle down on the coffee table and grabbed his cell phone again, dialing her number for what was possibly the hundredth time. His fuse was seconds away from blowing.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," he groused to himself, his knee bouncing as agitation pumped through his veins like the alcohol he had been consuming. For all he knew, she could have been dead somewhere. Although it wasn't a scenario he wanted to consider, it was possible. Crime was at a new high in the city and Brandy was gullible. Luring her would be as easy as luring a child with candy.

"Hello..."

His body was frosted over with ice-cold shock. "Brandy?"

"Yeah..." she whispered, her croaking voice barely audible. "It's Brandy."

He sprung up from the couch, words laden with vexation poised like arrows ready to strike once he opened his mouth. But it was all about the approach. Her return was the most important thing to him and he couldn't afford to miss the opportunity to reconcile. He couldn't be sure when the opportunity would come again. "Didn't you see my calls and messages? I've been trying to reach you nonstop. I was so worried. I thought something had happened to you and River."

She made no other sounds aside from that of breathing.

"Why are you doing this, baby?" he asked, raking a hand through his hair. He sat back down on the couch and tilted his face to the white ceiling, trying to visualize her face. "It's about what I said at your parents' house, isn't it? Look, I acted rashly. I just said a bunch of things that I didn't fucking mean and I know you're upset. But please come home. I love you, baby. I love you and I care about you so fucking much."

"I don't want to," Brandy muttered. "You broke up with me."

"Babe, you know I say things I don't mean all the time. C'mon, I was pissed off because you told me you shot heroin. I was gonna talk to you this morning, but you had already left. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself."

"But you—"

"I've done so much for you, Brandy. I paid for your rehab four times, I pay all the bills, I provide and I don't ask for anything much in return." Keith lowered his head and picked up his bottle of beer, bringing the rim to his lips. He took a few sips, reinstating the buzz that was starting to fade. "Can't you do this one thing for me? Just come home. Let's talk. We can figure everything out together. You can go back to rehab and finally get clean this time. Don't you want that? Think about River. He deserves to have a good mom."

"You're gonna yell and hit me and... I don't... I didn't mean to upset you," her voice quivered, and he pictured that she was quivering too. "I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. Please don't be mad at me."

Pity twinged in his heart but his frustration quickly overrode it. "I'm not gonna be mad. I get why you ran. I get it, hm. Come home, or better yet, I can come to you. Can you tell me where you are?"