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But it never comes.
Just like I said, she’s not here.
“Anything?” D asks hopefully the second the call connects.
“No. She’s not here, man. I’ve searched everywhere.”
“I swear to fucking God, if you’re lying to me, St—”
“Why the hell would I lie to you? I’ve told you a million times in the past that she’s turned up here, or at my place so you could get her. She is not here.”
“Fuck. Yeah, I know. I just… she never does this. Not for this long, anyway. I’m worried. She’s not herself right now. Cassie said she was off this morning and—”
“She’ll appear, D. She’s probably just going to try and clear her head.”
“Or get off her face wasted and end up in a—”
“That won’t happen,” I argue although the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Get everyone out looking, and I’ll join when I’m done here.”
“Can’t you get off?” His words and the desperation in his tone only prove to me how desperate and panicked he is right now.
“No, I can’t. Just call me if you find her, and if she does turn up here, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Right, fine. Yeah. Okay.” The line goes dead and I let my arm drop to my side.
Why do I feel like I’m letting him down by not blowing off work and heading out?
But I can’t. I fucking need this job, and I can’t put it at risk just because Kat needs a bit of peace.
I consider messaging her myself, demanding she let D know that she’s okay. But I figure that if she’s not responding to him, then I have even less of a chance of getting through to her, so regretfully, I stuff my cell back into my pocket, slam my hand against the wall beside me in the hope of expelling some of the tension and worry that D has spurred to life within me and take back off toward the main doors to do my fucking job.
* * *
Diesel: We got her. She’s home in one piece.
“Fuck,” I breathe, not giving a shit about the line of eager customers in front of me as I stare down at my cell.
Styx: Where was she?
Diesel: No idea. But she’s safe. That’s all that matters.
My stomach knots uncomfortably despite his assurances. Something tells me that this is only going to get worse. She’s backing away from everyone who’s trying to help and finding herself alone with no way to deal with the shit that’s going on around her.
Styx: She needs someone to talk to or this is going to spiral.
Diesel: I’m going to talk to her tomorrow. But this is why I asked you to keep an eye on her. She talks to you, she trusts you.
“Does she?” I ask myself.
“Yo, bro. You gonna let us fucking in or what?” a guy barks from somewhere in the line after a large group of girls leave the bar.
“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Holding my arm out, I gesture for them to go inside. But I don’t look up from my phone, I could have let in a group of fucking monkeys for all I know.
Despite knowing that she’s okay, the rest of my night drags. And by the time we close the doors and get to cleaning up, something I’ve been doing every fucking night in order to make my rent, I’m done. So fucking done.
Exhaustion tugs at my muscles and my head pounds as thoughts of Kat being at home, alone, and miserable right now play out in my mind.
I want to go to her, I want to help fix everything that’s broken. But she’s not willing to listen.
