03. DESTINATION: COVINA, CALIFORNIA [IN PROGRESS]
TACOMA, WASHINGTON
1945 HOURS
ROGERS RESIDENCE
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My breath caught in my throat as my grip on the phone tightened along with my heart. "Hello?" The voice on the other line repeated, sounding confused and mildly annoyed.
"Dad..." I whispered incredulously in a low voice, one that wouldn't be heard by the man on the phone. To be honest, I hadn't realized how much I missed him, even though he left when I was only eleven. I would get caught in distant memories that I couldn't tell were dreams or reality.
I had always craved a father figure in my life; I wanted to know that at least he would be there to guide me out of the mess I was currently in. I needed someone to tell about Mom. The thought of her made me cringe and I fought to keep my cool.
"Hello? How may I help you?"
Clearing my throat, my free hand groped the drawer until it managed to grip the edge of the counter. "I'm looking for- for my father?" I asked hesitantly. There was silence on the other end.
It lasted only a second.
"I'm sorry, but I think you might have the wrong number, miss."
My heart plummeted and my legs buckled, making me sink to the dusty floor and land on my knees. "You're kidding, right?" I choked out, eyes widening. I couldn't have gone through all of that shit just to be told the man on the other end of the line wasn't my father.
There was a sigh. "Miss, I'm sorry that I'm not the person you wanted to speak to. But I'm afraid you honestly have the wrong number. This is the California State Bank."
"California?" I echoed without thinking.
"Yes, miss."
Why would the junk drawer reveal a number that belonged not to Dad but to a bank down in the state of the rich and famous? I squirmed in my spot, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position as I pondered.
"Uhm... excuse me, Mister—"
"Albert Carroway."
"Albert. Have there been any deposits or transactions in the previous years by a man named Lucas Rogers?"
"I could look it up on our database if you so desire." Albert replied, to which I answered with a noncommittal grunt. As the line proceeded to play bad holding music, I drummed my fingers on my thigh and waited.
"Miss?" His voice returned and I straightened in my seat.
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid there haven't been any transactions created by a Mr. Lucas Rogers." I groaned softly and thumped my head against the side of the desk in frustration. Why was my father such a confusing man? Why couldn't he have been straight to the point and just told me where he was? "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, Al?" I mumbled half-heartedly as I picked at a piece of dirt on my blue jeans.
"Although, it seems that there happens to be a Lucas Rogers listed as a secondary contact for a man named Casper Bond. Perhaps you know him?"
Instantly I jerked to attention, getting onto my feet hastily and running a frantic hand through my hair. I started getting excited, a small nervous smile playing on the contours of my lips. Casper Bond. It couldn't be.
Could it?
➳
"Alright honey, which game do you want to play?"
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The Junk Drawer
Ação❝ Some secrets are meant to be kept. ❞ What if everything you thought you knew was a lie? Gwen Rogers had grown up constantly moving around, trained not to ask questions, and most importantly - keep secrets. When a tragic accident spirals into her l...
