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“Always.”
______________________
With my heart thundering in my chest, I walked up the private driveway toward a familiar front door. Knowing that I was clutching at straws by coming here, but having little else to cling to, I pressed my finger against the fancy doorbell and held my breath.
A few moments ticked by before the door swung inward, and I was greeted by a middle-aged woman in hospital scrubs. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, yeah.” Blowing out a breath, I offered her a small smile. “So, I know he doesn’t live here, but I’m looking for, ah, for Gibsie?”
Recognition immediately flickered in the woman’s brown eyes, and she smiled warmly at me. “Usually, you would find Gerard here, but for once, he’s raiding his own fridge.” With her hand outstretched, she pointed to yet another impressive-looking three-story house on the opposite side of the street. “He lives at number nine, sweetheart.”
“Thanks so much,” I replied, feeling myself sag with relief as I quickly spun on my heel and moved to cross the quiet cul-de-sac road.
“If you happen to see his curly-haired sidekick in your travels, please tell her that her mother said she’s grounded,” Mrs. Biggs called after me.
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Too frazzled to take in a word of what she was saying, I hurried up to the front door and knocked repeatedly until the hall light came on.
This time, when the door opened, I was greeted by a surprised-looking Gibsie. “Well, hey there, Mrs. Joey the hurler.”
“I need your help.”
“Okay…” Brow furrowing, he stepped aside for me, but I stayed where I was. “But if it’s advice you need help with, then I must warn you that I am a terrible choice of candidate.”
“I don’t want your advice, Gibsie.”
“That’s a relief,” he chuckled. “Because I’m bad at it. And when I say bad, I mean terrible. Ask anyone on this road. I am the very last person you should come to in a crisis—”
“Oh my god, stop talking and start listening.”
“Shutting up now.”
“I need directions to your friend Johnny Kavanagh’s house,” I stated, feeling my anxiety rise with every minute that passed. “I’ve been there before, but I can’t remember the way, and I need to get there.”
“Shit.” Concern flicked in his gray eyes. “You’re looking for Joey.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You’ve seen him?”
He nodded.
“When?”
“Today.”
“How was he?”
He winced but didn’t reply.
That was enough to tell me what I already knew.
“Oh Jesus.” Feeling like my lungs had been severed, I pressed a hand to my chest and choked out a labored breath. “I need you to help me.”
“I think you should come inside,” he replied, still holding the door open for me.
“Please.” Tears burned my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away. “I need you to take me to him.”
“I don’t know.” Scratching his broad chest, Gibsie looked around aimlessly. “I, ah, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“A good idea?” I glared at him. “I don’t give a shit what you think, Gibbers. I need to get to my boyfriend, and I’m asking you to help me.”
