Page 33 of A Man To Remember
Sawyer shrugs. "Probably coming down with something. Didn't sound great on the phone."
My mind immediately goes to the darkest places.
What if Jesse didn't just go home last night? What if the guilt and shame sent him somewhere else, somewhere dangerous?
What if I pushed him over the edge?
"Thanks," I manage, already backing away from the bar.
I'm moving before I fully realize it, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. My hands shake as I pull out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find Jamie's number.
He answers on the third ring. "Hey, bud. What's up—"
"I need Jesse's address."
He stays silent for a moment. When he speaks, he sounds heavier. "Why?"
"Just... please. I need his address."
Another pause. "Austin, what's going on?"
"I can't explain right now. Please, Jamie. It's important."
He sighs. "I'll text it to you. But Austin? If my brother's in trouble—"
"I'll take care of it."
I hang up before he can ask more questions. My phone buzzes seconds later with an address across town. I plug it into my GPS with trembling fingers, nearly dropping the phone twice.
The drive is a blur of traffic lights, worst-case scenarios, and the phantom sound of Jesse's voice.
I destroyed your life.
Maybe he did. But that was ten years ago, and he was sick, and I should have found a better way to tell him. Or better yet, not tell him at all.
What if…
What if I killed him with the truth?
I take a corner too fast, tires squealing against asphalt. A horn blares behind me, but I don't slow down. Every second feels crucial now, like Jesse's life is ticking away while I'm stuck in traffic.
Finally, I'm there. I park badly, again, and sprint for the entrance.
The elevator takes forever. I punch the button for his floor repeatedly, like that will make it move faster. When the doors finally open, I'm running down the hallway, checking apartment numbers.
There. 4B.
I knock hard, maybe too hard. "Jesse? It's Austin."
Silence.
I knock again, harder. "Jesse, please. I know you're in there."
Truth is, I don't.
My heart is hammering against my ribs now, panic rising in my throat. What if hecan'tanswer? What if he's—
The lock clicks. The door opens a crack, security chain still engaged.
