by D. K Lake
Forgetting Paige
(The Paige Diaries)
Book 3
Cover image by © creativecommonsstockphotos
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
The drive to the hospital takes forever, and on the way, we get held up in traffic. Up ahead, there are police officers diverting traffic onto a different road. I lean forward to get a better look and see an upside-down car and another in the ditch, and one wrapped around a tree.
"Shit," Dario mutters, looking at the damage.
"Where does this road go?" I ask, eyeing the dark lane in front where one of the police officers is redirecting traffic.
"Fuck knows." Dario responds, pressing buttons on the GPS, and it plans a new route to the hospital.
As we're pulling off the main road, I glance over at the crash site and see two men wheeling a body bag away. Then I catch sight of a lifeless body lying on the ground that is about to be loaded into another body bag.
"Ohmygoodness. What do you think happened?" I cover my mouth in shock.
I've never seen a dead body before. Or even a body bag.
"Someone was probably texting, or drunk. Or both."
I shrink back into the seat, wrapping my arms around my body. I don’t know if it’s the drop in temperature that has me shivering or the horrible accident.
"Here, put this on." Dario reaches behind his seat and grabs a hoodie for me.
"Thanks," I pull it over my cardigan and flip the hood up, cloaking myself in his woodsy smell.
I stare out the front window, thinking about the crash behind us, and a feeling of unease washes over me. I don't know the circumstances, but I feel so sorry for them. There could be innocent lives among them. Possibly children. Lives wiped out in a matter of minutes. Everything just gone. My stomach churns.
As if reading my mind, Dario reaches over and takes my hand and laces his fingers with mine.
"It's okay." he says softly.
I lean over and fiddle with the stereo and put on whatever I can find to ease the tension in the van. We finally make it to the hospital an hour later and hurry inside. Once inside I stare at the large sign on the wall with direction arrows to all the different departments. I look around in a daze, feeling lost. I have no idea where to go or where Mitchel might be. Where to start looking?
"Where do you think he is?" I ask, my eyes bouncing from one person to another.
"Um...this way," Dario takes my hand and pulls me down a corridor. We trek across the hospital and into the emergency department which is packed. The waiting room is overcrowded, every seat taken, and people are standing around waiting to be seen. There's one man with a bloody, crooked nose. Another man is holding his arm all wrapped up close to his chest. A woman with a gash on her forehead and she's holding a t-shirt to the wound. And about fifty other people with gloomy faces and injuries. I scan the waiting room for Mitchel but don't see him.
"Where is he? Is he supposed to be here?"
"I don't know." Dario says, letting go of my hand to walk over to the check-in desk while I check around the corner wall and scan the next waiting room, but still no Mitchel.
I turn around and amble through the waiting room, checking to see if we missed him. When I search for Dario again, I find him talking to a nurse. She looks upset, with watery eyes and her face is a little blotchy. She's pointing at something down the corridor. Dario takes a step back, shaking his head with a look of disbelief on his face.
"What's happened?" I ask, placing my hand on his arm, looking between the two of them.
The nurse looks at me with sad eyes before picking up a clipboard. She then turns away, wiping her eyes, and walks off.
"Dario? What is it?" I ask, feeling anxious.
He's still shaking his head and won't look at me.
"Dario!" I say louder, getting in front of him.
He's starting to scare me now.
"Did something happen to Mitchel?"
He shakes his head again.
"No. Not Mitchel."
"Then who? Where is he?"
"He's down there."
"What? Where?" I glance down the corridor but don't see Mitchel anywhere.
I turn back to Dario with a worried frown, waiting for him to explain.
"It's Willa..." his says, his voice breaking.
"Willa?" I repeat the name, and it takes me a moment to connect the dots.
Willa is Mitchel's mom.
"Willa's here?"
I'm so confused and Dario isn't saying much.
"Willa…she’s…she’s dead," he says, quickly scrubbing the tears from his eyes.
"What?" I say in disbelief. "What happened?"
He gestures to the nurse that just left. "Hettie, she works with Willa. She said Jim…that’s Willa's boyfriend, he’d just picked Willa up from work about an hour ago. They were on their way back to his house..." he trails off, closing his eyes and shaking his head again.
"Oh, my..." I whisper.
"The crash we passed. It was them. Willa was in the passenger seat and she…she uh…" His voice breaks. "She died on the way to the hospital. Jim died on impact." Dario chokes out.
I gasp and cover my mouth, staring at him in utter shock. We drove straight past the crash site. Jim must have been one of the dead bodies.
"They're not sure…but they think it was a drunk driver who ran them off the road."
I take his hand and he rubs his eyes with his sleeve.
"Fuck." he says seconds before he breaks down in tears.
I pull him into my arms, and he leans on my shoulder, crying into my hair. I know he’s close with Mitchel, and he’s spent a lot of time over at their house, so he must have grown close to Willa as well.
"I'm so sorry," I comfort him the best I can, holding onto him and smoothing my hand down his back until he stops crying. After a few minutes, he calms down, slowly lifts his head from my shoulder and rubs his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
"We should find Mitchel." he says, sorting himself out and sniffing.
"Where is he?"
"Hettie said he's down in the next waiting room."
"Okay, let's go and find him."
I hold onto Dario's arm and guide him down the corridor. He wipes his eyes and tries to pull himself together for Mitchel, but I can tell this is a big shock for him. I didn't know Willa that well. To be honest, I didn’t know her at all. I only ever met her that one time, and she seemed like a lovely person, friendly and kindhearted. It's so sad that she's gone. I'm a little shaken, but I manage to keep my head together for Dario's sake.
The next waiting room isn't as cramped as the last one. It's weird though. Everyone is huddled over to one side and has left the other side empty. I look around the waiting room and a woman with a small child on her lap catches my eyes, but she quickly looks away and over at the dented vending machine. I step away from Dario and see a leg sticking out from the other side of the vending machine. I tug on Dario's sleeve and point at the vending machine. He catches sight of the leg and the scruffy-looking Vans and steps around me, and slowly approaches the vending machine.
I follow behind him, and the other people in the waiting room watch us with curiosity. I edge closer and peer over Dario’s shoulder and see Mitchel sitting on the floor. His head is in his hands. His knuckles look bloody. There's another dent on the other side of the vending machine. I take a guess and assume he caused the damage and while doing it, he scared everyone over to the other side of the waiting room.
"Mitchel?" Dario says quietly.
Mitchel looks up at us. His eyes drift to me for the briefest of seconds, but he doesn’t seem to register who I am. He looks so lost, confused, unaware of everything. His eyes are bloodshot and there are old, yellowish bruises on his face from where he's been fighting.
"My mom...she's...she's..." Mitchel's voice breaks and he starts to cry.
"It's okay. I'm here." Dario crouches down next to Mitchel to comfort him.
I give them a moment alone and take a seat in the waiting room. I try to ignore all the eyes that won't stop staring at me. Not five minutes later, Mitchel is stalking out of the waiting room with Dario chasing after him. I jump up and follow them.
"I need to get out of here." Mitchel says urgently, scanning the corridors, trying to find the nearest exit.
"No, I don't think you should drive anywhere right now," Dario says carefully, trying to calm him down.
"I need to get the fuck out of here!" Mitchel growls, agitated, spinning around and walking past me to change direction. Dario gives me a look before chasing after him again.
"Let's just go back to the house." Dario tries to catch up with Mitchel and grabs his arm.
"No. I need to drive. I need to get out of this place. Where's the fucking exit?" Mitchel shouts, changing direction and this time, he runs straight into me. I go flying and end up on the floor. Mitchel just steps around me and marches off without even saying anything. Dario offers me his hand and pulls me up.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes.
"No, don't be. He's upset. But he shouldn’t be alone right now." I worry.
"No, I agree, but something tells me he's not going to listen. He's a fucking wreck. He shouldn't even be driving. Come on!" Dario pushes a door open and we try to catch up to Mitchel.
By the time we make it outside, we just catch the Jeep’s taillights as Mitchel speeds away.
"Fuckkk!" Dario shouts.
"We'll find him." I assure.
Dario turns to look at me, and then nods in agreement, pulling out his keys as we hurry over to the van and try to catch up with Mitchel.
"Where do you think he’s going?" I ask.
"I don't know."
"Would he go home?"
"Maybe...I don't know."
"Where else would he go?"
"Leesha’s, maybe."
"Your cousin? The house where she had her twentieth birthday party?"
"Yup."
"Why go there? Does he like her?" I ask, unsure.
"No," He shakes his head. "It's a storage house."
"Storage for what?" I ask and stare at him, waiting for him to answer but then it clicks. Em had already told me this. "You store drugs in that house." I say and he looks over at me with a frown, probably wondering how I know about it, but he doesn’t ask me about it.
We drive back to Radley Springs. The road is no longer blocked, and the cars have since been towed away but there are still a few police officers standing around. I spot a pile of metal from the wreckage at the side of the road.
"I wonder who was in the other cars?" I say out loud, talking more to myself.
"I don't know, but I don't think Willa and Jim were the only ones that lost their lives tonight."
"It's so unfair. I feel so bad for Mitchel and his brother."
"Life is unfair. As soon as anything good comes along, something else comes along and fucks it all up. Jim was planning to propose to Willa. Mitchel and JT had finally come around to the idea of her being with him, and they were both happy for her. Now, this happens."
"What do you think he'll do?"
"I have no idea, this is Mitchel we're talking about. He could run himself off the road he's so fucked-up right now."
"Would he do that?" I ask with a frown.
"I don't know, Paige!" Dario snaps and then quickly apologizes. "Sorry! I'm sorry."
"I know. I’m sorry too. So, uh…what's the plan?"
"We'll drive through town and check out his house first to see if he's gone home. If he's not there we'll drive over to Leesha’s."
Chapter 2
We take a detour and drive around town. We don't spot Mitchel's Jeep anywhere. When we pull up outside his house, we find the driveway empty.
"I'll try JT again," Dario says, lifting the cell to his ear as he turns the van around in the driveway. "Straight to voicemail." He chucks the phone on the dash.
"Let me try ringing Mitchel," I quickly grab Dario’s phone before it slides off the dash as he swings the van around. "What's your passcode?" I ask, looking over at him. "I would call Mitchel myself, but I don't have his number on my phone." I say, waiting for him to tell me his passcode.
He looks over at me with a small frown.
"It’s okay, I'm not going to look through your messages. I'm just going to call Mitchel. He probably won't pick up but it's worth a try."
"No, it's not that..." He lets out a sigh. "My passcode is 022001." he says, looking back at the road.
I go to key it in and then realize something.
"Your passcode is my date of birth? February 20, 2001."
He doesn't reply but glances over at me with a guilty expression.
"Okay, I'm going to let this go for now. It's a bit weird, though, Dar."
"Why is it weird?"
"You couldn't have thought of a different passcode to use?"
"It was the first one that came to mind."
"Right." I return my attention to his phone and type in the passcode, and the first thing I see is his wallpaper. "Rio!" I gawk at the screen. "Really?"
"I like that photo." he defends.
I shake my head at the wallpaper. A photo of us from the motel when we were lying in bed together. I pull up the contacts and find Mitchel's name and hold the phone to my ear.
"It's just ringing and ringing."
"He's probably driving with the stereo on too loud and can't hear it, or he's left his phone in the car. Or he's ignoring it which is the most likely possibility."
"I hope he's all right. I know I don’t know him that well. To be honest, I don't even like him that much, but I don't want anything bad to happen to him."
"Me neither, which is why I won't be going to sleep tonight. I can drop you off at the dorms?"
"What? No. I want to help find Mitchel."
"You have a flight in the morning, " he reminds.
"I know but I can catch up on my sleep another time, this seems more important. I can take a nap on the plane."
"Did you pack a bag already?"
"No, it’s not a problem. I can throw a few things in a bag in the morning."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I want to help."
"I don't know how much help we'll be if we can't find him."
Dario speeds across town, the streets are lonely and deserted at 2 am. Dario parks on the street outside the house where Leesha lives. There are a few lights on inside and a couple of cars in the driveway. None of them Mitchel's Jeep.
"He's not here." I say, sagging against the seat.
"No, but I'll just go and check inside to see if anyone has seen him or spoken to him."
Dario goes to open the door and I reach for mine at the same time.
"Paige, wait. It’s best if you stay in the van." he says.
"Oh, I was going to come with you."
"That's not a good idea." he tells me, climbing out. "I'm going to lock you in the van."
"Really?" I ask, looking around. The street is deserted. No one’s awake at this time anyway.
"It's the middle of the night and I don't trust anyone."
> "Then don't you think it would be better if I came with you instead of leaving me in the van?"
"No, I don't trust anyone inside either." He goes to close the door, then stops. "There's a baseball bat under your seat."
"What?"
He slams the door and locks me in. He crosses the street and gets lost in the shadows, and then he reappears again, jogging up the driveway. He knocks on the door and waits. I lean forward, squinting, and can just about make out a camera above the front door. A moment later the door opens a fraction and he talks to someone for a few seconds before slipping inside. I lean back in my seat and check out the window.
Dammit, Dario.
I lean over and reach under the seat and find the baseball bat he was talking about. But what good is a baseball bat when most people carry guns nowadays? I hug the bat to my chest. Dario has put me on edge. Every other house on the street looks dark with only a handful of porch lights switched on. The street looks clean and the gardens look well-kept. I don't know why Dario is so paranoid. He's making me paranoid. I check my phone again. He's been ten minutes. What the hell is taking so long?
I chuck the bat on the driver's seat and look around the van and find a bag of Haribo on the side door. I tear it open and dig into the bag, keeping my eyes on the front door. The porch light flicks on and the front door opens. Dario ducks outside and jogs over to the van and unlocks the door. He pushes the bat off the seat and jumps in, pulling the door shut behind him.
"What took you so long?"
"Hungry?" he asks.
Dario turns to me and offers me a takeout box with chicken wings inside. I snatch it from him and take a chicken wing. He then pulls out a can of Coke from his hoodie pocket and passes it to me.
"Has anyone seen Mitchel?" I ask, nibbling on my wing.
"Yeah, he was here about five minutes before we arrived."
"Okay, so what took you so long?" I ask again.
"Leesha was ranting about Mitchel. He came in like a tornado and started chucking shit around. He wasn’t here long." he tells me, producing a dip from his pocket.
"So where is he?"
"No one knows."
He places the dip in the center console and then grabs a chicken wing to dip in it as he starts the van.