Page 74 of Diem

His brows furrow but he joins me when I head to the front doors. I have my hand on the knob when Matt touches my lower back.

Behind us, the sound of a door slamming rings out and I glance around to meet Diem’s blazing stare.

His mouth curls in a dirty smile before he mouths, “Sloppy seconds.”

Blinking, I stare into his cruel eyes and shrug, although his scowl follows me all the way to class, where I laugh bitterly and open my book to today's lesson.

Fuck him. And Hailey too.

∞∞∞

On Sunday, I find my dad in his office and since I’m avoiding him, I stick to the wall, hoping he won’t spot me. But when I hear he’s on the phone, I relax.

“I’m worried,” Dad says.

Creeping around the corner, I pause when he continues, “Dammit. This could be serious. And the Charlie shit…”

Covering my mouth, I tiptoe down the hall and lean against the wall. Where the hell is Frank? Is my dad covering for him?

“Where the fuck is it, man?” Dad barks and I flinch. What?

“Whatever. Call me when you have fucking answers.”

With that, I presume he hangs up the phone and I escape to my car before driving away with my heart in my throat.

Dad’s all up in arms about the boat…what does that mean?

If this all leads back to Frank, then I have no choice but to continue this stupid quest to find him.

Since the sight of him makes my skin crawl, I know I want to avoid him. My other thought is to search his trailer while he’s gone and it’s with this in mind I sit outside it in my car, far enough down no one should spot me.

All day, I drove around mindlessly and now, I’m dressed in dark clothes because that’s what they do in the movies, watching in tense silence until I’m almost sure, no one is inside.

Finally, after waiting an hour and a half, I exit my car quietly, and creep up the street. This isn’t the best of neighborhoods, but thankfully most folks are inside at this time of night and those that aren’t are the ones I need to steer clear of.

As I pass each trailer, the loud sounds of music and talking rise and fade, many plunked down before their television sets for the evening’s entertainment, which is where I would be if I weren’t doing something completely stupid.

When I reach his trailer, a double wide with faded siding and weeds growing in the pathetic excuse for a yard, I step down the side, and press my back against the wall. My palms are slick, and my heart is thundering in my chest, but I have to know, and I suck in a breath before tiptoeing toward the end, where I start with the window out of sight of the small street.

My limbs shake under the strain, but it won’t budge. With a grunt I move to the window on the side and find it too, closed tight. All the other windows reveal the same issue, almost as though they were sealed shut.

“Fuck,” I mumble, rounding the trailer and staring at the door. This is my last chance, but what are the odds?

With a fatalistic sigh, I make a deal. If the door doesn’t open, I’ll go home and never come back. But when I wrench on it, I fall back because it opens easily.

Who doesn't lock their damn door? Especially in this neighborhood.

Shaking my head, I creep inside and close the door softly behind me. It’s dark, of course, so I fumble for my phone and turn on the flashlight app. Shit.

It’s so bright.

Wincing, I aim the light at the floor, and consider turning it off altogether but if I want to see what I’m doing, I have no other options.

I’ve entered a tiny living space connected to a tiny kitchen that connects to a dark hallway with a bathroom and a bedroom at the back.

He’s fairly neat but I wrinkle my nose at the musty odor as I pass through the rooms, looking for anything obvious first, but there’s nothing that jumps out at me, like, say, a dead body.

Instead, I start with the bedroom, looking through the drawers carefully. The space is so tiny, he’s only got room for two small nightstands and the bed. I presume there's a closet behind one of the closed doors.

---