Defiance Falls Boxed Set: The Complete Defiance Falls Trilogy

by Dean, Ali

  There wasn’t much that could take me away from Hazel, especially not today. I could call Gramps, but I knew he was on standby for Jeremy. That was his role.

  “Haze, I’m going to have the guys meet you here to train you, okay? I need to head home for my dad.”

  “I’ll come.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask questions. A little gust of that superpower vibe came back with her devotion to me.

  I shook my head. “No. You’ll see him. But this is more important.”

  It wasn’t negotiable and Hazel didn’t argue. I felt her studying me as I texted the guys. When her arms wrapped around me from behind, a lump formed in my throat. I could handle punches. I could deal with strategy. I could even walk away from her if it meant keeping her safe. I could do all that without breaking down. But her compassion? The sound of her heart beating because she hurt for me? That would be the thing that made me bawl. Right here in the firing range parking lot.

  Emmett texted back first, said they’d just wrapped up a run and lifting session and would be there in ten minutes.

  I swallowed down the emotions before they could overwhelm me. My eyes burned but I got it together. Not here. Not now. There wasn’t time for this shit.

  I couldn’t leave Hazel alone, but I also couldn’t talk about Dad. I turned around in her arms and glanced around. I’d parked under a tree and we stood by it now, away from prying eyes.

  “Wanna make out till the guys get here?” I asked, trying for playful.

  She didn’t buy it and her smile was sad.

  “Sure. Whatever you want, Cruz.”

  I knew I couldn’t have everything I wanted. That wasn’t life, and it wasn’t the life I’d been dealt, that was damn certain. But if I could have this, this woman’s compassion, her kisses, her loyalty, it would be enough. Hell, it was more than enough.

  Chapter 14

  Hazel

  There was no goofing around with the guys today like there was last night, and it wasn’t only because we were handling guns. Dad was currently meeting with Seamus Malone, on Malone turf, with no real backup. There wasn’t much we could do if things went south.

  All I could do was have faith Dad had it handled. Dad would make the threat clear up front that if something happened to him, the Malones were screwed. That should protect him long enough to get through the conversation.

  It didn’t help that I’d never held a gun before in my life and now I was surrounded by them, shooting one. The sounds made me think about how Moody’s house had gotten shot at as a warning of sorts. It made me think about how quickly and how easily Dad’s life could end. But I refused to succumb to fear.

  As the minutes turned into hours and the guys insisted we wrap it up and get some food, I struggled to be brave. No one had put a time expectation on the meeting but it seemed like we should have had word by now.

  I was not all there when we got in Spike’s Hummer and drove to Shaw’s Shack. I loved this place. We used to go here all the time for fried shrimp or lobster rolls after soccer practice. In the past few years, I hadn’t been back, and it was unsettling to face the reason why. As we slid into a booth, it was clear the guys had been here plenty over the years. I could tell by the way the owner greeted them on the way in, the way our waiter seemed familiar. As I rubbed my chest, Emmett threw an arm around me.

  “He’s good, cuz. Uncle Jeremy is a real badass. He’s got this.”

  “Seamus is still reeling from losing his dad,” Spike added. “He’s still feeling out his role as boss man. He’ll want to take this back to everyone for a vote.”

  Bodhi was sitting across from me and he tapped my foot. “It’s not a one-man show. He can’t just decide to off Uncle Jeremy because he turned on them. He knows what’s at stake.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Off my dad? What, you talk like mafia now, too?”

  Mounting panic about Dad chilled with this information. It made sense. This was a one-on-one meeting about one of the largest criminal enterprises in the world. Seamus wouldn’t do anything drastic that could bring it all crumbling down. Not without consulting others, contemplating everything.

  I was still sore from the nostalgia of this place. The lost years. Especially now with how easily it all came back. It made it that much more poignant, what I’d missed out on. They’d been moving forward, making more memories, while I’d been holding on tight to the ones I had left. I let myself indulge in bitterness for a beat, but I knew I had to let it go. If I dwelled on it, I’d never get that chance to move forward and make new memories. Besides, it hadn’t been all fun and games for the guys these past three years either.

  But then a new sensation settled in the pit of my stomach. And this was much, much worse. I wasn’t prepared for it. The truth was, I’d pushed it aside as soon as Cruz was arrested. It had been easy to do, with everything else coming at me. But now Branden and Sean Malone were walking through the parking lot, headed our way.

  It was weird, how I could feel the color draining from my face at their cocky swaggers. We were a ways from the main strip downtown. This shack was a few minutes from the range on the road headed to the shore.

  I heard someone curse. Then Moody asked, “Did they follow us?”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off them, not until Emmett’s stern voice snapped my attention to him. “Keep it cool, guys. We don’t want to blow this all up. No one is starting shit. Not while Uncle Jeremy’s in there with Seamus. Got it?”

  He’d barely gotten the words out when the bell on the door jingled as it swung open behind me.

  The owner started to greet them from behind the main counter, but her voice died down. I clenched my teeth. Was she scared of them? Did they have weapons? Or was everyone around here afraid of the Malones and I’d just been too oblivious to notice before?

  I realized then what I was experiencing. This was fear. It didn’t make sense. They were outnumbered, and my eyes took in the steely gazes of the three guys on the other side of the booth from me. They were armed. I knew this now. But I was shaking. What was I afraid of?

  I didn’t turn, not until I heard Bodhi ask, “What do you want?”

  They stood over our booth, looking taller than I remembered from three days ago.

  “We came to apologize.”

  “Apologize?” Bodhi nearly hissed the word.

  I didn’t like them standing over us and I was relieved when our waiter pulled over two short stools that they actually used.

  “To Hazel. For Thursday.”

  My relief was gone as quickly as it came. Why were they sitting? Were they planning to stay to tell the guys exactly what they’d done? My skin was suddenly itchy and hot and I wanted to crawl under our booth and disappear.

  I stared at my hands on the table. Go away, I silently chanted in my head. Just go. Leave. Go. Go. Go!

  Emmett must have read my mind because he said, “Got it. You can go now.”

  “No, we want to make it right,” Sean insisted.

  “We need to make it right,” Branden added.

  “You can start by leaving,” Spike said.

  I fought squeezing my eyes shut. I wanted to do something to block this out. All of it.

  “Look,” Sean said, “Hazel’s gonna be around. Probably at Harvard with us next year. We don’t want her scared of us.”

  My eyes finally shot back to them. Were they being serious? But then I realized. They didn’t know. I hadn’t known a thing about my dad’s involvement that night. They didn’t know that now I knew everything. They didn’t know that their suspicions about the guys at this table and Cruz were actually spot on.

  No, the two guys sitting there were not the same guys from Thursday, on a mission to prove themselves in the Malone family, certain they were about to make a big discovery. These two had been taken down a few pegs, and I knew it wasn’t from my side. My side had been itching to do that, but had held back. My eyes widened. They had new bruises too. So Seamus must have thought the boys had jeopardized the arrangement wi
th my dad. Seamus came to the meeting with my dad to beg for him to come back and make things right. He sent his son and nephew to do the same with me.

  Oh, hell.

  We had to play along. Dad wasn’t going to let on that the five of us were involved to Seamus. Not unless it became necessary. We had to pretend to hold back because we were simply afraid of the Malone name, just like the Shack owner was. Which was hard to pull off for these guys. Partly because everyone knew the guys would throw down if they really wanted to. They’d done it just the other night at Patriot Taphouse.

  And then Emmett provided the reason, the fake reason, for holding back fists. I was by the window, he was beside me, and Moody was on the outside of our booth. Emmett leaned forward then. Past Moody, so he was right in their faces. “The only reason you don’t each have broken legs, arms, and ribs right now, is because Uncle Jeremy told us to hold off. For now. You came. You apologized. We’re done here. Nothing else is going to happen today.”

  “Get out before we change our minds,” Bodhi added for good measure.

  The Malones sneered as they pushed back from their stools, but they didn’t shoot it my way. No, they’d had their own orders to lay off me. I wasn’t about to accept any apology and they knew it, but they didn’t know what was going on right now, what kind of agreement was at stake. We had more power than them because we knew everything, and no one expected it.

  When the door slammed shut behind them, the guys all turned to me. “I’m fine and no I don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”

  The food came a few minutes later. I couldn’t eat, and no one pushed it. We had family dinner at Pops and Mimi’s in a couple hours anyway. I wasn’t even sure why we were eating, but it was two PM, so I guess we’d missed lunch. I was all messed up. I’d slept late, had breakfast late. Skipped a workout so I could learn to shoot a gun. Everything was off. This morning, with Cruz, everything felt just right. Was it that simple? Did I just need him in order to get through this? It should have made me feel weak, that idea. But it didn’t. It gave me comfort to know there was something, or someone, that could help me handle this. Because as I watched the Malones leave and felt their presence still lingering in the Shack, another realization hit me. I wasn’t a pawn anymore. The Malones might think I was, but I was a player now. We all were. It was the Malones we were manipulating. The board had shifted and we had the power. It helped me shake whatever ugliness had crept in with the Malones. Enough to get through our late lunch.

  There was still no word from Dad by three PM. It had been four hours since he’d started his meeting with Seamus.

  When I told the guys to take me to Cruz, they didn’t argue. We were a team, all of us, but Cruz and I were a pair, and I needed him.

  When we got to his house, I discovered that Cruz needed me more.

  Chapter 15

  Cruz

  This was why I avoided Dad. Once I was with him, I couldn’t leave. He still knew who I was, remembered everything about me. I was his favorite person to reminisce about. He hardly talked about Mom anymore. It was me. But it also paralyzed me to be here in this house, the house we’d moved into when Mom died. It froze me, made it impossible to move forward.

  When Hazel stepped into the living room, I vaguely registered the guys behind her. Seeing her in this space, it snapped the trance. The caretaker had come for his shift hours ago, but I hadn’t been able to leave. Dad was having a good day and he’d been talking nonstop.

  I could hear the excitement in his voice when he recognized Hazel. “Hazel Ross! You get more beautiful every day. Come sit down.”

  Hazel hesitated a beat before walking toward him. He’d stood and opened his arms for a hug. The guys followed behind her, and I could tell they were uncertain what to expect. The last time they’d seen Dad had been one of his worst days. It was the day before my eighteenth birthday and we’d been grilling with the guys. Dad had asked when Mom would be home from the office.

  He’d been having trouble with the guys’ names this past summer too. But today he greeted each of them. We sat around our living room, and Dad continued with what he’d been doing the past couple of hours. Reminiscing. Older memories were easier for him, and now he went back to five years ago, when I’d joined New England Elite, switching over from another club team. I’d joined because these four guys were the best in the area, and I wanted to play with them.

  “Cruz had always had friends, see. But then he met you four boys, and I knew it was different.” I let Dad embarrass me. He was enjoying himself, and I didn’t mind giving him this. Then he went on about Hazel.

  “Cruz had this crush on you, Hazel, for years, did you know that?”

  She glanced at me and fought a smile. “For years, huh?”

  Dad nodded and leaned back in his armchair, pleased to have so much attention. “Oh yes. When he was still on Premier FC he used to talk about this girl who could play on the boys’ teams. That she was the best player he’d ever seen. Then when he got to know you, oh boy. It was Hazel Ross this, Hazel Ross that, every day.”

  “Really?” Hazel sat forward in her seat, enjoying this.

  “But he wanted the guys to like him, see, and they were protective of you. I told him to take the risk. I knew it was just an excuse anyway. He was intimidated by you.”

  One of the guys snickered.

  “Now, Spike, don’t laugh. You’ll be twisted up about a girl one of these days and you’ll know.”

  “I don’t know, Jake, I’m not like Cruz or Hazel.”

  “You wait. I’d never been intimidated by anyone, man or woman, until I met Laura Braven my freshman year at Harvard. Most terrifying thing I ever did was ask her on a date.”

  Dad went on about his early years with my mom, and we listened. But he started to drift off to random topics. I knew I had to stop him because when this happened, he would get confused, and then frustrated. I wanted this little moment to be a good memory for him and all of us. Each time he was lucid for periods like this, I knew it could be our last good memory with him.

  While Dad was talking, Bodhi nudged me to show his phone. It was a text from Jeremy. He was at Pops and Mimi’s for dinner.

  It was a good excuse to interrupt Dad and have his caretaker redirect him. When we said our goodbyes and went outside, I felt relief. Not at leaving Dad, but that he had been with us, for the most part, that entire time.

  Hazel sat on the bike behind me. “He’s different. He’s so much calmer than I remember.”

  I shifted to face her and nodded to Spike as he pulled around us. “Yeah. That was the best day he’s had in a while,” I admitted.

  “You see him every day?” Hazel sounded surprised.

  I swallowed down the guilt. “No, not every day. I sometimes stay at the Spot or the Lake.”

  Hazel didn’t say anything. I looked up at the house and felt her eyes on me, searching. “I used to eat dinner here with him every night, spend as much time as I could with him. A year ago he stopped going into the office. He doesn’t meet with friends much either. He wanted to keep his diagnosis a secret. From the beginning, he didn’t want the Malones to know. Thought it would make Braven more vulnerable.”

  Hazel placed a hand on my arm and I looked at her. “There’s speculation about why he’s become reclusive, but he said he’s working more from a home office. Gramps picked up some of Dad’s duties with Braven.”

  Hazel doesn’t let me avoid where I was going with this. “Why did you stop coming home every night to be with him?”

  My chest tightened with the familiar stabbing pain I got every time I thought of it.

  “Six months ago, Dad didn’t know who I was,” I told her. “He asked his caretaker why a young man was in the kitchen. He thought I was a new caretaker.”

  It had come out of nowhere. For a minute, I’d thought he was messing with me. I was in denial. But there had been signs for months. Years, even. When he was first diagnosed, Gramps and Uncle Cliff had been the ones to notice what seemed to b
e more than usual forgetfulness. They’d thought it was purely emotional, a combination of Mom’s death, taking over the company and instituting this plan to get out from under the Malones’ thumb. He’d agreed to see a therapist. A few months later, at the therapist’s recommendation, he’d done testing.

  “But today,” Hazel said, her voice echoing some of that confusion I’d felt six months ago, “he was remembering all kinds of things. He knew who we all were.”

  “I know. Today was a good day,” I repeated. “But I never know what I will get. The first couple of years after the diagnosis he was himself. He was still working -- well, he was going to the office. Gramps would go too and help him organize his affairs. We didn’t know when he would have trouble doing it himself. Then a year ago he was forgetting names, or things that happened earlier that day, and he stopped going into the office. He never struggled to remember faces though. Just me, that night.”

  Hazel slid her arms around my waist. “I’m sorry, Cruz.” There was nothing else to say, not now. I was losing my dad, slowly. He gave me little glimpses of the dad I’d known, but he also gave me glimpses of a stranger. A stranger I didn’t think I wanted to get to know. I felt guilty about that. The man was still my dad, either way, wasn’t he?

  I let Hazel hug me, but not for long. There wasn’t time or space in my life to contemplate this. I’d had a good day with Dad. The best morning with Hazel. Now it was time to find out what kind of night it would be.

  * * *

  Everyone was already at the house when we arrived. They were in the backyard, where Ian, the twins’ dad, was manning the grill.

  We knew we’d have to wait to get the low-down from Jeremy. No matter what was going on, this family made Sunday dinner a priority. I hadn’t joined in years. Neither had Spike or Moody. But I’d liked knowing the twins at least had this time with Hazel. It gave us a small connection to her.