Nothing to Lose

5

Rafe woke up with a stretch the next day. A smile unwillingly crept onto his face as his consciousness came to, and memories of her began to flicker awake as he did. He sighed and got up, his back muscles shifting in the golden light peering through the window as he moved his neck in a circle to ease the tension from the sleep.

He went to his drawer to get what he needed for a shower. His gut dropped when he saw it. It took him longer to realize than it would've if the fog from freshly waking up weren't still lingering. His eyes widened, his brow furrowed, he slammed his hands on top of the wooden finish of the dresser.

"No", he whispered shakily, "No, no", he shook his head in panic.

The drugs were gone. Not one speck of powder was left over. He flung the drawer out, pleading that the bag was still there. Maybe wind had blown it. Maybe, just maybe he had forgotten putting it away. He thought of every possibility, every small sliver of a chance that it was still there. He needed that security or else he'd lose it.

The drawer was open. He'd lost it. His eyes slowly rolled in the back of his head as he put his hands over his head.

"Fuck", he shook his head, "FUCK!", he yelled and kicked the dresser.

The door opened then. Rafe's head whipped toward it, pain and anger in his eyes. His Dad stood there, his arms crossed while he leaned against the door frame.

"Good morning, son", he smiled, "Did you sleep well?"

Rafe glared at him. He didn't ask him such questions. He knew then that it was him. His lips curled and his hands tightened.

"No, Dad", he sighed, "No, I did not", his coarse voice cut through the air.

"And why's that?", Ward got up from leaning slightly, "Is it because you were walking across the lawn at three in the morning last night? Could that be it, Rafe?"

Rafe leaned his head back in disappointment and then tilted it back to him, "Fuckin Wheezie", he muttered.

"Wheezie didn't tell me anything", Ward shook his head, "I saw you", he paused, "Yeah, I saw you leave this house, then I came upstairs. You wouldn't believe what I saw then", he smiled mischievously.

Rafe nodded slowly then looked up at him, "Where is it?", he said softly.

Ward stood there relentlessly silent.

"Where did you put it?", Rafe began to become impatient.

Ward inhaled deeply and then traced his finger along the freshly cleaned wood on the top of the dresser. "I flushed them."

Rafe's eyes widened as he processed what Ward just said. He didn't want to believe it. He wished he were dreaming.

"Why- Why would you do that?", Rafe smiled in a manic way, "You really-", he pointed his finger at his father, "That's really messed up, Dad."

"No, no you see it's messed up to sneak from this house when we need to keep low, son. It's messed up to take drugs and roam the streets with God knows who!"

"I didn't", Rafe shook his head, "I didn't take any last night."

Ward laughed and shook his head, "You really expect me to believe that you were sober when there's a line all freshly chopped up on your dresser?", he laughed sarcastically, "Please."

"Yeah", Rafe nodded carelessly, "Yeah, if the line was still there I didn't take it", he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You know, I don't know what to believe anymore when it comes to this Rafe. You promised you'd get clean. You promised you'd be there for us. We can't have half of you Rafe. We need you here."