Danny Clark is a Nobody

Chapter Thirty One

James's P.O.V.

I rubbed my face in frustration. I had woken up way too early to get some studying in, and I've been staring at math equations for about 7 hours straight. I checked the time. 6:31 p.m. Danny should've gotten home by now.

"Dad, did you call Danny yet?" I asked. He looked up from the book he was reading. "No. Don't worry too much, I'm sure he's alright." Dad smiled reassuringly. I shook my head. I had a feeling something was wrong. "I'm just gonna call. To check." I said. Dad gave me a knowing smile.

I pulled out my phone and dialled his number. He didn't answer the phone. I started panicking. So I called again. "Dad, he isn't picking up." I said anxiously. Dad frowned. It wasn't like Danny to not pick up his phone.

On the third try, he finally answered. "Danny? Why didn't you answer your phone? And you're thirty minutes late! What-"

"Th-this is Will." Will breathed. I frowned in confusion. I didn't know they were friends again. "Will, where's Danny?" I asked. "H-He..." Will sobbed. He was panicking. A lot. Which made me panic even more. "Where is he? Is he hurt? What happened? Will, please tell me." I rushed out.

"He... my dad... D-Danny. Oh, god... Danny..."

"Will, please calm down. Tell me what happened."

"Dad... my d-dad has a g-gun."

My heart stopped beating. Literally. I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn't hear or feel anything. I couldn't breathe. "James?!" My dad shook my shoulder repeatedly. I gasped. "Danny, he's in danger... gun..." I whispered.

"Was he shot?!" My dad yelled and I flinched. "Sorry." He muttered. He took the phone from my shaking, weak hand. "Will, please tell me. Is he injured?" My dad tried to stay calm but I could hear the shake in his voice.

"N-no." Will answered, and I let out a sigh of relief. He's okay. For now. My dad rushed to the front door. "Dad, wait for me!" I got up and ran to his side but he shook his head. "No. I can't put you in danger too. Stay here, with Sam. I mean it, James. Don't you dare follow me."

I opened my mouth to argue but he was already out the door. I paced around in circles. I heard my dad start the car, and I couldn't do anything to help. I had to go. I had to. It was stupid of me but I failed him last time. I couldn't protect him, but now I had to.

I grabbed my keys just as Sam came downstairs. "What's going on?" He asked. "Nothing." I smiled tensely. He frowned and rubbed his hair. "I don't believe that." He muttered. "Really, everything is splendid."

"Where's dad?" He questioned. "He is working, perhaps. You bear witness to his workaholism." I said lightheartedly. Sam raised his eyebrow at me. "What are you hiding from me?" He asked suspiciously. "Nothing. Everything is quite alright." I said. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Then why are you lying?" He asked.

"I-I most certainly am not! Why ever would you believe so?" I said. "Because you are talking like a 19th century gentleman, dear brother. As you do when you are lying. The inferior version of Charles Boyle." Sam mocked me. I huffed. It was something that started as a joke, but then because a horrible habit.

""So tell me. What the fuck's going on?" Sam asked. "Language." I mumbled absentmindedly, like a reflex. Sam rolled his eyes then looked at me expectantly. "There was a... slight issue with Danny. Dad's gone to sort it out. And I was going to help." I admitted.

"What kind of issue?" Sam frowned. "Nothing for you to worry about." I said. "Don't bullshit me, James. Tell me what's going on? You obviously seem distressed." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "As I said, it's nothing. I have to go-"