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Forgetting Paige: (The Paige Diaries #3)

Page 2

by D. K Lake


  I'm still staring at him waiting for him to say something.

  "What was he even doing here only to leave again so quickly?"

  "He went upstairs and grabbed a couple of bags of coke."

  "Bags of coke? Coke cans?"

  "Uh...no," Dario looks over at me.

  "Cocaine?!" I gasp.

  Duh.

  Of course, Mitchel wouldn’t drive over here just for soda cans.

  "He’s planning to kill himself using cocaine?" I ask in a panic.

  "No, I don't think that's his intention, but he is planning to get completely wrecked. Leesha said he helped himself to a new bottle of vodka on the way out as well."

  "Where do you think he went?"

  "He could be anywhere. Getting wasted in some park. Sitting in his Jeep down some dirt track getting trashed. He might even be sitting in a bar causing trouble right now."

  "What bar is open at two in the morning?"

  "You'd be surprised in this town."

  "Nothing surprises me anymore. I used to think this town was a nice place to live, now I'm learning it's full of criminals and drug dealers."

  "What town isn't?" he says, his eyes staring out into the darkness as the van idles, the warm air blowing through the vents.

  "Would he go home?"

  "Home?" Dario looks over at me and then shakes his head, and grabs onto the wheel, pulling away from the curb.

  "No?"

  "Maybe, but..."

  "But what?"

  "He’s losing it. He’s not thinking straight, and if he’s that desperate, he might go and see her."

  "Her?"

  "Your sister,"

  "She's in Nebraska!"

  "I know."

  "He'd really drive all that way to go see her?"

  "I don't know, P. Kelsey has always been like a lifeline for him. If anything represents home for Mitchel, it’s your sister. He's not thinking clearly right now, and his head is a mess."

  "It will be if he drinks a bottle of vodka."

  Dario drives back across town to Mitchel's house. When we get there, the lights are off still and there are no cars in the driveway. He tries ringing JT again, but it goes straight through to voicemail again, and Mitchel's phone is now switched off. We turn around and drive through town and check Mitchel's favorite bar and don’t find him there. We drive all over town, checking everywhere for him, but the hours creep by with still no sign of him.

  "Let's check his house again?" I suggest.

  "We already checked his house fifty times."

  "I know, but he might have gone home since then."

  "Okay, we’ll swing by one last time." He sighs. "I'm starting to think we should have put a tracker on his Jeep."

  "You can do that?"

  "Yup. This van has got one, and JT's Mustang has one ‘cause he's convinced someone is going to steal it. I should have thought ahead and put one on Mitchel's Jeep in case something like this happened."

  "You didn't know his mom was going to end up in a car accident."

  "No, but Mitchel is unpredictable. I should have known there would be a time when he would go missing like this. JT once asked me to look out for his brother - I'm not doing a very good job of it. Fuck!" he slams his hand on the steering wheel.

  "Hey, this isn't your fault. We'll find him." I reach over and squeeze his arm.

  "I don't know if we will. I mean, where the fuck is he? For all I know, he could have crashed his car into a fucking ditch and be on the way to the hospital."

  "Can't we track his phone?"

  "Not if Mitchel switched it off. And he complains the GPS drains his battery so he never has the damn thing turned on, so it would be no help."

  I look out the window into the darkness and let out a sigh.

  "I'll try Emily, she might know something. She's with Spencer, he might have spoken to Mitchel."

  I dial Em's number, it rings and goes through to voicemail.

  "She's not picking up. She said she was going bowling and then back to Spencer's, so she's probably in bed."

  "We're nearly there," Dario says, pulling onto the street where Mitchel lives. Dario turns the wheel to pull into the driveway but then he presses his foot on the brakes. This time, two vehicles occupy the driveway. One is JT's Mustang, the other is Mitchel's Jeep.

  "They're both here." I say in surprise as Dario pulls up at the side of the curb.

  He kills the engine and lets out a long breath.

  "I think maybe it would be a good idea if you stayed in the van."

  "Why? I won't get in the way."

  "I know, it's not that. It’s just…I don't know what I'm going to find when I go in there."

  "Hopefully Mitchel."

  "Just wait, okay?"

  "Fine." I huff, looking out the front window as he climbs out, and at the same time, I see two teenage boys walking a dog. Who walks their dog a 4.30 am? Gang members?

  "Wait!" I scramble out of the van before Dario can lock me in.

  "I'm coming with you,"

  "Paige-"

  "I don't want to stay out here on my own. Please?" I nod my head across the street at the teenagers and he looks over at them.

  "All right but stay behind me."

  I stay close to him as we hurry to the front door. From inside the house, a stereo is cranked up to full volume. I'm surprised no one has called the police to complain. I check over my shoulder again to see where the teenagers are but they're already halfway down the street. I turn back to the house and Dario lifts out his set of keys to unlock the front door, then stops when he notices the door ajar. Dario lowers his hand and pushes the door open and it slowly swings inward. The house is dark, the lights are all switched off. Strange.

  "Shit." Dario mutters and steps inside.

  He switches on his phone light and shines it around the hallway.

  "What happened?" I edge closer, peeking over his shoulder and see everything turned upside down. I gasp, stepping over a broken picture frame. "It looks as though a tornado has been through here." I mutter.

  "No. Just one of the Torres brothers." Dario grumbles.

  Chapter 3

  I look around and see broken cutlery, glassware, and the coffee table is in pieces again. They must have replaced the last one after Dario threw Maverick through it. Someone has smashed the light bulbs in the ceiling which is why none of the overhead lights are working. Even the table lamp has been smashed to pieces. There's so much destruction. The curtains have been torn down. The mirror above the fireplace is cracked. The recliner has been knocked over and the back is all torn up. The wallpaper in the hallway has been ripped off. Picture frames are scattered all over the floor in broken pieces. The kitchen cabinets are wide open and it looks as though someone has come along and just pulled everything out one by one and thrown them across the room.

  "Stay here," Dario orders and I gently push the front door closed and wait in the hallway.

  He disappears down the hallway and flicks on the lights, and the one light bulb that survived flickers on, lighting up the far end. He knocks on JT's door, but the music is on so loud no one can hear anything. Dario then turns around and checks inside the bathroom before knocking on Mitchel's door. He glances down the hallway at me before trying the handle, but it's locked. He knocks on the door again and rattles the handle.

  "Mitchel? I know you're in there, the door is locked."

  I look around and let out a breath, not liking this one bit. I hear a loud bang over the music which causes me to jump. My eyes dart to Dario to see he's kicked in Mitchel's door. He steps inside and I creep closer. I wait for him to reappear and when he doesn’t, I start to worry and head into Mitchel's bedroom. My feet come to a standstill when I see Dario leaning over the bed.

  "What's wrong?" I ask, my eyes scanning Mitchel's body that appears lifeless at where he’s draped over the edge of the bed.

  "Fuck." Dario looks up at me and shakes his head. He's got his phone to his ear as he taps Mitchel's face t
o try and wake him up.

  "What's wrong with him?" I edge closer and check the nightstand and see a nearly empty bottle of vodka. "Ohmigawd. Did he drink the whole bottle?" I gape.

  "Looks that way, and the rest," Dario gestures to the nightstand where I spot traces of white powder and empty baggies. "Is he okay?"

  "No, he's nowhere near okay. He's overdosing- Yes! Hello, I need an ambulance..." Dario quickly explains the situation to the operator and rattles off the address.

  I'm still staring at Mitchel. He looks almost peaceful. A little sweaty and washed-out, but I'm sure a bottle of vodka and a ton of cocaine will do that. He's probably got alcohol poisoning as well.

  Shit. What if he dies?

  All I can think about is my sister and how this will affect her. Mitchel can't die, it would destroy her. She may pretend she's moved on and is happy with Colt, but I know it's all a front, and she still loves Mitchel.

  "Paige? Paige!" Dario shakes my arm. "I need you to stay with him while I check on JT."

  "What do I do?" I say in a panic.

  "Just stay close to him in case he has a seizure."

  "What? Does that happen?"

  "Yes, it's happened before with him."

  "Ohmigawd." I murmur, sinking onto the edge of the bed. I pick up Mitchel's hand and hold onto it.

  "Make sure he doesn't hit his head on anything," Dario moves around me and steps over the strewn clothes all over the floor. "If he starts vomiting, make sure he doesn't choke!" he yells, rushing out the door. I turn back to Mitchel and just stare at him, unsure what to do.

  "You're an idiot." I mutter. "If you die, my sister will never get over you. Do you hear me? You can't die!" I shake him. "You've put her through so much. This will push her over the edge. Don't you get it? This isn't all about you. I know you just lost your mother, but you need to think about your daughter. Think about Blue. Don't you think she'll want to meet you one day?"

  His chest is still rising and falling, but his breathing sounds uneven, and when I check his pulse, I can feel it racing. I don’t think it should be racing so fast.

  "Paige," Dario says and suddenly, his voice is crystal clear and someone’s turned off the music down the hallway.

  I get up and move aside for Dario, and he takes my spot, tugging off Mitchel's sweatshirt. I don't know why he's undressing him.

  "Can you go and find a flannel in the bathroom and run it under the cold water?"

  "S-sure," I stutter, leaving the room and find the bathroom. There are a few things on the floor that have been knocked off the side, but it's nothing compared to the state of the rest of the house. I find a flannel under the sink and run it under the water until it feels icy cold and then I squeeze it out a little and hurry back to Dario.

  "Thanks," Dario takes it from me and places it over Mitchel's forehead.

  "Is he going to be okay? I mean, is this something he does a lot?" I ask.

  "Not this much." Dario answers, tossing the sweatshirt away.

  "Will he die?"

  "I really hope not."

  "Why is he so hot?"

  "He's overdosing. I've seen it before, but the last time we managed to cool him down and he just slept through it and woke up in a fucking mood."

  "And this time?"

  "This time he's done a bottle of vodka and I'm not sure what it will do to him."

  "Where's JT?" I glance back at the hallway.

  "Passed out in his room."

  "Did he overdose as well?" I ask, confused.

  "No, he's just stone-cold drunk, sleeping off a hangover, nothing like this. He's fine though, he'll just wake up tomorrow afternoon feeling like shit." Dario reaches over to the nightstand and pockets the empty bags of coke. He then stands up and starts searching the room.

  "What are you looking for?" I track his movements over to Mitchel's dresser where he opens the top drawer and moves some clothes around and pulls out a bag of pills.

  "What are you doing with those?"

  "Hiding them. The police might show up."

  "Oh,"

  "Stay here, I need to check the rest of the house."

  He slips past me and I sit with Mitchel, watching his chest to make sure he's still breathing. Dario returns a few minutes later and I stand up and move aside again.

  "Can you wait by the front door for when the paramedics arrive? They should be here in a few minutes."

  I back out of the room and wait by the front door, clearing a path so that the paramedics can get through easily. I see the lights outside and open the door and jog down the driveway to meet the paramedics. I guide them inside and show them into Mitchel's room and wait in the hallway while they work on him. Not a minute later, they’ve got him hooked up to an IV and they're wheeling him out on a stretcher. Dario joins me in the hallway, and we follow them out the door.

  "Are you going with him?" I ask.

  "No, we'll take the van and follow them."

  The paramedics get Mitchel inside the ambulance, put their lights on, and shoot off down the street, waking up half the neighborhood with the siren. We lose the ambulance not long after leaving Radley Springs and arrive an hour later at the hospital. I check my phone on the way and see it's nearly six o'clock in the morning. The sun is starting to make an appearance and I can hear the early morning birds as we race across the parking lot to the main doors.

  I feel a sense of déjà vu as we hurry inside the hospital for a second time tonight. Or is it morning? Ugh. I'm running on hardly any sleep and my brain is fried. I feel like I'm going to crash hard when I finally get a chance to sleep.

  Dario lets go of my hand to talk to someone at the front desk and she directs us to another desk where we are told to take a seat and wait. Dario buys us both a coffee and we get comfortable in the waiting room. I'm just drifting off to sleep on Dario’s shoulder when a nurse calls out Mitchel's name. Dario jumps up and I nearly fall off the chair. I check my phone again, noting how much time I have left before my flight. I will be cutting it close, that is if I even go. I feel as though I should stay here.

  The nurse hurries off down the corridor and I sluggishly stand up and go over to Dario.

  "What did she say? Is he okay?" I ask, touching his arm.

  "Well, he's not dead so..." He lets out a long breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. "They had to pump his stomach, but they managed to bring his heart rate back down. He's asleep at the moment, but they want to keep him in for a day or two to monitor him. He's gonna freak when he wakes up and realizes he's in the hospital." Dario rubs his eyes with one hand, looking completely shattered.

  "You need to get some rest." I say, moving closer and rubbing his arm.

  "I'll rest when I know he's not going to do a runner."

  "You think he'll wake up and walk out? Is he even allowed to do that?"

  "He’s not on suicide watch so they can’t keep him. It's exactly what he'll do. He’ll discharge himself, and then he'll probably go home and do it all over again."

  "He needs help."

  "I know, try telling him that. He refuses to get professional help. He says he's okay and that he has it under control." He shakes his head, his tired eyes drifting around the waiting room. "But Mitchel is far from okay though. No one knows how to help him, and JT just pretends everything is fine. Losing Willa is going to break them both. I don't think this will be the last time Mitchel ends up in the hospital. The problem is, the next time he might be leaving in a body bag."

  "So what's the plan, are you going to stay and wait for him to wake up?"

  "Shit! Your flight." he remembers.

  "It's okay, I still have time to get back and get to the airport."

  "I'll drive you,"

  "No, you should stay. I can get an Uber."

  "It's over an hour's drive back to Radley, then another thirty to the airport. You'll never make it without me."

  "What about Mitchel? We can't just leave him."

  "They said he's going to be okay, so he'll be fine u
ntil I get back. And just to make sure, I'll message Spencer and tell him to get his ass down here to keep an eye on him."

  "Are you sure? I could get a later flight. Or just not go?"

  "No, you should go. I'm going to be waiting around the hospital all day, and when Mitchel wakes up it isn't going to be pretty. You don't want to be here when he has another episode. You might as well go. We can see each other when you get back...I mean, if that's what you want?" he asks carefully.

  We haven’t even had a chance to talk about this. Whatever this is. We had sex. Just sex. But I know he wants more…and maybe I do. Or maybe I don’t. This is too much to process right now.

  "Yes," I finally answer, not knowing what else to say. I don’t want to get into a fight with him right now over this. I give him a small smile and wrap my arms around him, and he hugs me back. "I can't believe what a night it's been," I say, pulling away a moment later.

  "Me neither. Although, I get the feeling this is just the start of it."

  "I feel so sorry for them for losing their mom." I murmur as we make our way out to the parking lot. "I can't imagine what it would be like to lose one of your parents so early. Where is their dad anyway?"

  "Uh...yeah, he's not around anymore." Dario answers, opening the passenger door for me.

  "Where is he?" I ask, taking his hand as I climb into the van.

  "He's…dead too." Dario says before closing the door and walking around to the driver's side.

  "That's terrible. Do they have any other family?"

  "Nope. It's just the two of them now."

  "I feel worse now." I say, looking back at the hospital as we drive out of the parking lot.

  Dario drives a little over the speed limit to make sure we get back to the dorms in time. I just have enough time to run inside and grab my bag and then he drives me to the airport, and we run inside together.

  "I'll see you next week?" he asks to be sure.

  "Of course. You can call me if you want," I throw out there, biting my lip. I’m not sure what’s going on between us.

  "You sure your mom won't mind if I call you?"

  "It doesn't matter, it's my phone. You bought it for me, she can't confiscate this one, right?" I laugh nervously.

 

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