Grand Theft Autumn

Chapter Nine

Pete's POV

I woke up in my motel bed.

"Glad to see you are awake, finally." A voice came from the other side of my room. I sat up, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs. I looked around for the source of the voice, and found the girl from the graveyard. "Damn, you are one deep sleeper." She commented, walking towards me.

"Who the fu-" Oh wait. "Shit, I got beat up last night, didn't I?" The girl nodded. "What was your name again? Natalie, Nat... Natasha!" The memories of last night hit me. Natasha laughed.

"Good, you didn't get any brain damage from getting your ass kicked. Have you ever been in a fight?" I ignored her and stood up. My ribs hurt, and so did my face. "You have been asleep for a day. I thought you were dead for a while." Natasha said.

"Did you watch me sleep this whole time?" Natasha laughed again.

"No, don't flatter yourself. I had to go run some errands." Natasha handed me a clean shirt. Did she go through my stuff?

    "One of the guys, said something about my friend Patrick. He is missing-" I started, but Natasha cut him off.

"He has been missing for a few days, I know. I have... Been tracking him." Natasha almost sounded hesitant, but I ignored that. She knew about Patrick?

"You have been tracking him? What does that mean? Where is he?" I demanded. Natasha's eyes flashed.

"No questions. Just leave this to me. I will try to get him back, but I can only do that if you stay out of the way. Now," Natasha started walking towards the door. "Forget you ever saw me. Forget about everything you have learned. Go back home, and wait until Patrick comes home." Natasha opened the door and paused for a second. "And don't look into Lukas Freighner anymore. It is none of your business." Natasha then walked out, slamming the door behind her. I scrambled to put on the shirt, and found some clean pants. I heard the roar of a car outside and rushed out of my room. I got out in time to see a car peel out of the motel. Damn it.

I walked back into my room, heading straight for Patrick's journal... Where is it? I put it right on the nightstand, but it was no longer there. I went through the room, looking for it. Where did it go? It couldn't have grown legs and walked off...

Natasha. Damn her! She stole the journal. She knew Lukas, but how? She must of gone through the journal to know that its relations to Lukas. And she knew about Patrick... So Pat must be here, somewhere. But why couldn't I go with her? I knew Patrick better than- I stopped.

Did I really know Patrick? I mean, ever since he went missing and I started to read his journal, I have realized that I don't know my best friend at all.

Shit. This was becoming a bigger mess than before.

I grumbled to myself as I pulled on my jacket. Maybe, if I was lucky, I would find Natasha, and get the journal back, as unlikely as it is.

As I walked outside, the cold air startled me. It was getting to be winter soon. It was fall right now, and Thanksgiving was fast approaching. Would Patrick come back for Thanksgiving? Christmas? New Years? No, stop thinking about it. Patrick will come back. That Natasha girl will help, she said she would. I thought. Yeah, Pete. Trust the sketchy girl who stole your only clue to finding Patrick. I sighed and rubbed my head with my hand. Maybe I should call Brendon. But, I left my phone in the motel room, and it was probably dead. I could always text him later or something.

I walked around town, keeping my head low. I hadn't encountered any fans yet, but who knew. Brendon said that he had called the police, so they could be anywhere. Was Natasha with the police? No, she would have hauled my ass back home if she was.

"Yeah, yeah, and then guess what I did. I spit blood on him! I got up in the lil' fucker's face and spit blood on him!" A familiar voice hooted. No... It was Orange Hair. I quickly leaned up against the wall, and looked down the alleyway. Sure enough, it was Orange hair talking to a group of men. "Patrick shouted at me, but I ain't intimidated." Patrick? He had talked to Patrick recently, then. Orange Hair kept talking, but someone pushed me over.

"Sorry, sir." A gruff voice said, and an arm reached out, stabilizing me. I looked at the person, but then quickly looked down. It was a police officer. "Sir?" He prompted.

"Uh... It's no biggie." I said before walking away. Once I turned the block, I sprinted, and found a crowd to get lost in. My heart was pounding. I should have been prepared, but I wasn't.

What if there wasn't just regular cops? What if there were undercover cops? They could be anywhere.

Maybe it was time to call Brendon and the others. I weaved my way through the crowds of people, and started the walk back to the motel.

This trip, aside from trying to find Patrick and getting beat up by some druggies, has been pretty good. I mean, I have walked everywhere which is great exercise, and I have found some nice bars.

There was this diner that I have been going to, it was a total 80's type diner. They served great breakfast, and the people who worked there have been great characters.

I finally reached the motel, and let myself into the room. My phone had been charging this whole time, so I no longer had any excuses. Why did I feel so nervous? It was only Brendon. There was no way that he would make me come back, and it wasn't like he could force me back home. He didn't even know where I was? No. He didn't.

I pressed Brendon's contact and pressed the call. I slowly lifted the phone up to my ear, and waited.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Rin- Someone picked up. I held my breath. Why the hell was I so nervous?

"Pete? Pete, is that you?" Brendon demanded. He sounded stressed, tired... Way worse then when I last spoke to him. A flash of guilt went through me. I should have called sooner.

"Hey, Brendon." I said, trying to act casual.

"Don't you fucking 'hey Brendon' me." Brendon was pissed, that was to be expected. "Where the fuck have you been?" I shifted uneasily. Should I answer that?

"I wasn't kidnapped, if that was what you were worried about." I said, avoiding the question.

"'I wasn't kidnapped, if that was what you were worried about.'" Brendon mimicked in a high pitched voice. "I thought you were fucking DEAD, Pete. Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to just leave?" Brendon was shouting.

"Cause I think I know where Patrick is!" I shouted back. Brendon fell silent, but not for long.

"Then why didn't you come to the police about it? Do you have some type of clue?" Brendon asked, poison dripping from his words.

"I have my reasons. I am fine, okay?" I snapped back.

"Then come back home! Holy shit, you know how worried everyone else is? They all think that you were taken with Patrick, or dead! Maybe both!" Brendon yelled.

"I am sorry, okay? I am sorry! It was wrong of me to walk off, but my best friend was gone, and I had the chance to find him! If I had given what I found to the police, they would just pat me on the head and tell me to go home!" I shouted. "I am so close to finding him! I am fine, just leave me alone!" I was so close to hanging up on him.

"You are in Glenview, aren't you." Brendon said strangely calm.

"H-How did you know that?" I asked. Brendon only gave me a dry chuckle.

"You either come home, or I will take you back home." Brendon said before hanging up.

"Fuck you!" I screamed at my phone. I didn't mean it, I really didn't mean it.

I didn't want to get mad at him. Just, I was on a mission, and I was getting closer to finding Patrick everyday. I couldn't let anyone take this away from me, not when I was so close.

Brendon couldn't take me back. I will only come back when Patrick is by my side, alive. And that was a promise.