Page 43 of Klutch's Kryptonite

I nod, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “His loss.”

“Damn straight,” she agrees, leaning her head against mine. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, right?”

“Right.”

The bus winds through the city, passing from the nicer neighborhoods into the more run-down areas. As we get closer to our old building, anxiety starts to creep back in. What if my dad’s not there?

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I murmur as we step off the bus.

“It’s fine,” Kenny assures me. “We’ll pop our head in and if he’s not there, we’ll go.”

I nod when she links her arm through mine. She’s right. I’m sure it’s fine.

When we reach my apartment, I’m surprised to see the makeshift repair job on the door. Boards have been nailed across the damaged area. It’s secure but it looks even shittier than it did before.

Pulling out my key, I shove it in the lock and turn. I sigh in relief when the bolt clicks, signaling it still works. I shove the door open and McKenna follows me inside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be,” McKenna says, taking in the damage.

The apartment is still a mess, though someone, probably the prospects Klutch sent over here to fix the door, made an attempt to clean it up.

“It was worse,” I admit, suddenly feeling guilty for ditching Rookie.

“Dad?” I call out, shoving the thoughts aside, and moving further into the apartment. “Dad, are you here?”

Silence answers me.

I walk past Kenny and head down the hall. I check his bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen. There’s no sign of him,but his clothes are still in the closet, and there are dirty dishes in the sink. He’s at least been here recently.

“Look at this,” Kenny says, pointing to a calendar hanging on the wall.

I move closer. There’s a circle around tomorrow’s date with the word “MEET” scrawled in my father’s messy handwriting.

“Meet who?” I wonder aloud.

Kenny shrugs. “Frankie, maybe?”

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. If my dad is planning to meet Frankie without the money...

“I need to find him,” I say urgently.

“We will,” Kenny promises. “But first, let’s grab you some more clothes while we’re here.”

I nod, heading to my room. As I stuff clothes into a duffel bag, I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen. The circle on the calendar, my dad’s disappearance, the trashed apartment—it all adds up to trouble.

“Ready?” Kenny asks from the doorway.

“Yeah,” I sigh, zipping up the bag. “Let’s go.”

As we’re about to head out, my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s a text from Klutch.

Klutch: Where the fuck are you?

I wince. Rookie must have ratted us out.

“Busted?” Kenny asks, peering over my shoulder.

“Big time,” I confirm, showing her the text.

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