Unspoken Rules
Page 3
“Haze,” Ryan calls out from the living room.
I turn around. What else could he possibly want? They’re blackmailing me into hooking up with some girl in exchange for their trust. Isn’t that enough?
“Today.”
I feel like I should laugh because there’s no way he’s serious.
“You’re joking, right?”
They avoid my gaze in silence.
“What? Did I become a hooker and nobody told me?”
Ryan ignores my comment and gets his keys out of his pocket. “Here, I’ll drive you.”
“I’ll drive myself,” I say, slamming the door and rushing out of Trev’s house.
Next thing I know, I’ve reversed out of the driveway and disappeared down the street in a deafening roar. I hook my phone to the charging cable I keep in my car and drive with no direction for a few unbearably long minutes.
I wait for my phone to light up. For the screen to show that I have a message from her.
Just one.
But of course, when it does light up, it reveals messages from everybody on the damn planet but the person I want to talk to.
There are four messages from random girls that I don’t even bother opening and a few from Trev, who’s trying to apologize for the group therapy he just tried to pull. I don’t know why I hoped that she’d have contacted me.
She’s gone, Haze. She could be anywhere in the world by now. It’s time to move on.
I turn the corner rapidly and set up the GPS.
Bianca’s place it is.
3
Miles Apart
Winter
“This place is insane.” Will’s voice bounces off the walls of the semi-empty living room as I sit on the couch and glance around the too-good-to-be-true penthouse that lacks any sign of human touch.
It’s spacious and wide but so clean it feels cold. I love the white, modern house as much as the next girl, but I can’t see myself ever feeling at home in a place like this.
Thomas wasn’t lying when he said that he barely ever went to the penthouse. His place looks like an IKEA commercial. An IKEA commercial that the boys will have wrecked before tomorrow.
I look through the draughtproof windows at the distant buildings hovering over the whirlwind of motion in the city. We’re on the last floor of a twenty-story building, so high up the cars and pedestrians are barely visible. I doubt that anyone will find me here.
It took us way longer than expected to get to Thomas’s place. It’s already six o’clock. I finally got a good look at my leg, and all I could do was wince as my eyes flew over the stitches and swelling from the fracture. I’ll have to walk with crutches, and I’ll be in a splint for the next six weeks. Tom said I was lucky, that I should be able to recover from the fracture quickly.
Sure, okay, but what about my broken heart?
I can’t believe I just thought that. This is worse than I thought.
“Anyone hungry?” Will walks in and shuts the door with his foot, his hands full.
He drops the Chinese food takeout boxes on the gigantic marble counter in the kitchen. Kendrick and Alex instantly get up from the couch they haven’t left since we arrived. Only food could be enough motivation for these boys to move.
They sit around the counter and start eating like actual pigs. I eventually have to remind them of my existence and my current inability to walk.
I could’ve made an effort to get there, but just thinking of moving is exhausting after everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. It’s crazy to think that not so long ago I was trapped in a cave and now… I’m watching Kendrick throw kung pao chicken at Will.
After request number three, Alex brings my noodles over and I have no choice but to pray that Thomas’s white couch won’t become a canvas for my Chinese food.
The boys are leaving tomorrow. Kendrick might be on “Protect Winter” duty, but they aren’t. They have school and a life to get back to. Not to mention it’d be way too suspicious if we all just happened to disappear at the exact same time. The last thing we want is to draw attention to ourselves.
They say they’ll be back every other weekend. They better. I’ll lose my mind if the only human interaction I have for the next few weeks is with Kendrick.
My cousin’s phone ringing interrupts his classy inhaling of the Chinese food. He gets out onto the balcony to take the call.
“Who do you think it is?” Alex goes to throw his empty box in the trash.
“My money’s on Nicole. She must be wondering where he ran off to. They did just get back together. I’m curious to see what he comes up with to justify this one,” I say.
Alex nods. “Yeah, well, whatever it is, something tells me she’s not going to buy it and she’ll dump his ass again.”
Will decides now is a good time to bless us with his wisdom. “Hey, would you look at that? Winter won’t be the only heartbroken sap in the gang anymore.”
“Will,” Alex chastises him.
“What? It’s true. I hate to break it to you, Canada, but by the time you come back, Haze will have probably found himself a new East side girl.”
I won’t lie. That hurt. I’m grateful that, from where they are, they can’t see me miserably trying to stop the pain from taking residency upon my face.
“Yeah, right. That’s why he said he loved her,” Alex starts. “Because that’s something Haze Adams would say if he didn’t give a shit. We both know that’s not who he—”
One severe look from Will is all it takes to shut him up. Alex makes the face of a child who’s just done something forbidden and lowers his eyes to the tiled kitchen floor.
They have got to be kidding me.
“Let me guess, Kendrick told you to talk me out of ever wanting to see Haze again.”
“What? Of course not,” Will says in his high-pitched “I’m lying” voice.
I know Will won’t be the one to crack, so I focus on Alex. He can’t keep a secret for the life of him. He’s way too honest and kind. It’s a miracle he didn’t spill the beans to Kendrick about Blake and Kass secretly dating back then.
Hard to believe this guy can throw a mean punch and show no mercy in a fight.
“Fine. He did.” Alex puts his hands up.
Will elbows him in the stomach, and Alex makes it his pleasure to punch him right back.
I want to ask them how they still see Haze as a monster after everything he did to help them but decide to save my breath. It’s pointless. They don’t know him the way I do. He’s different with me. Here I am, still thinking about him. I wonder if he’s thinking about me, too.
Oh my God, I’m totally that pathetic girl, aren’t I?
“Winter, do you seriously think he’s going to sit around waiting for you? He’s probably already found a girl to spend the night with by now. Not to mention that he left you when you were unconscious and hurt. Does that look like love to you?”
I remember hearing his voice when I was half awake, half passed out. “I’m not fucking leaving until I know she’s okay.”
They’re lying to me. Just how far are they willing to go to keep me away from him?
A text message comes through on Will’s phone, stopping him from going on another “let’s break Winter’s heart” rant. He shakes his head in disapproval and nudges Alex with his elbow to get his attention. Alex glances over his shoulder at the text and displays the exact same reaction.
“Trust us. The best thing you can do is move on.” Will puts his phone away and looks at me with pity in his stare.
“What just happened?”
“Nothing.” Will gives Alex a look that says “Tell her and I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. I have eyes. What’s in that text?”
“I told you. Nothing. Just let it go.”
“Alex?” I glare at him. “Alex, tell me. You know you want to.”
He shifts nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between Will and me.
“Alex, don—”
>
“Haze was at Bianca’s three hours ago.” The words fall out of his mouth so quickly it’s a wonder I even understood him.
I swallow the pill or at least, really try.
“Says who? It’s not like you saw him.”
“No, but I trust my sources,” Will says.
The emotions that creep inside my heart when he says that are indescribable. I’m happy because I got him to answer the question. But I’m also broken, because sometimes…
The truth is worse than the oblivion.
4
Chasing You
Haze
My phone rings a few times. Then, Kendrick’s stupid voicemail comes on. That’s all I’ve been hearing for the past month. None of the guys are picking up, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because they’re busy.
I glance at the empty apartment and breathe out a bitter sigh. It’s the third I’ve seen this week. It needs some work, but it’ll do. It shouldn’t be too long until Trev gets sick of me eating his food and kicks me out. I really need this place.
The apartment lady asked me why I needed to move so quickly. I really wanted to tell her, “Well, long story short, my brother, who’s also my roommate, locked me in a basement and tried to kill me,” just to see her face, but I’m guessing this wouldn’t be a winning tactic.
I glance down at the messages I’ve sent Winter. She would’ve answered by now. I’ve tried calling her too, but it doesn’t even reach the voicemail.
My guess is either my number’s blocked on her phone or she doesn’t have a phone anymore. But blocked by who? Did she do it? Not knowing is driving me insane.
Weeks of silence and I still can’t stop thinking about her. This girl who, for all I know, could be on another continent right now. It’s been one freaking month. It should be getting better. Why isn’t it getting better? Why can’t I stop obsessing about where she is and if she’s okay?
My guys are even more suspicious than before, and the frown that’s plastered on my face twenty-four seven isn’t helping. I’m sloppy in fights. I’m not down for anything other than sleeping. Going over to Bianca’s last month felt so wrong. It made me realize that maybe… I don’t want this life anymore.
Speaking of Bianca, she’s been texting me nonstop, asking me about what happened when I showed up to her house. I haven’t texted her back once, but she can’t take a hint.
“Thank you for waiting.” The Realtor walks back into the room after taking a forty-five-years-long phone call. I don’t have all day, but she obviously doesn’t care.
“Have you made up your mind?” she asks.
I glance at our conversation on my phone and reread the last few messages Winter sent me before this madness started.
Yes, I’ve made up my mind. I lost the fight. I lost her. But I don’t care about the deal. I’m chasing that girl… again.
I look down at the lady and nod.
“I’ll take it.”
Winter
I need to have a chat with whoever said that time heals all. That’s the conclusion I came to while lying awake in Tom’s guest bedroom at three in the morning last night.
You’d think I’d be used to this reality by now. After all, it’s been a month. Well, five and a half weeks to be exact, but I’m not sure that’s enough time for the famous quote to be effective.
It feels like I’ve been locked inside the IKEA penthouse for years. Kendrick spends every day playing video games while I read or watch Friends. That’s all I do: read, watch my favorite shows, think about Mr. I-Say-I-Love-You-and-Go-to-Another-Girl-the-Next-Day, take online classes, and eat.
It’d be slightly better if I could explore the city, but my leg disagrees. Not to mention, we’re supposed to be undercover, and “going out to play tourist” doesn’t come close to fitting the word’s description. Although, that doesn’t seem to stop the boys from going out to get food every chance they get.
I lie awake in the oversized bed that’s become my best friend in the past few weeks. Distant voices fill my ears. Today is Saturday, and Will and Alex are back for the weekend. I listen to their conversation until the front door is shut closed. I assume they went out to get Chinese; it’s almost lunchtime.
I push the heavy cover off me and yawn. The only things I did today were go to the bathroom and shower, which, by the way, isn’t a piece of cake with this injury. Bright side is, my fracture has really improved since we got here. Only a week and a half before I can walk again. I’m even kind of good with my crutches now. And by good, I mean that I no longer fall on my ass every time I use them.
I get dressed and stare at the empty closet in the corner of the white bedroom. I can’t bring myself to unpack. Part of me fears that unpacking would be like accepting that this is where I’m going to be spending the last of my senior year, and I’m not quite ready for that.
So, for now, I keep my suitcase open next to my bed and pick what I need in the morning.
Oh, and needless to say, I was right. Kendrick didn’t do color matching and picked around two flattering outfits in my closet back at Maria’s. The majority of the clothes he brought scream “single with twenty-four cats.”
“There she is,” Kendrick says when I enter the room. “Slept well?”
“Maybe if I’d slept at all.” I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Where are the boys?”
“Went out to get food. Where else?” He shrugs, turning on the TV.
I nod and hop to the fridge—since hopping on one foot and holding on to furniture are now my main ways of transportation—and pour myself a glass of juice. I’m about to take a sip when a knock on the door reverberates throughout the penthouse. I turn my head to see Kendrick just as confused as I am.
“Must be the guys. They probably forgot something.” He gets up and goes to check through the peephole.
The way his face collapses when he peeks inside tells me he was wrong.
It’s not the guys.
“Who is it?” I ask.
I can practically hear the million thoughts racing in his head from where I am.
“How the fuck did he find us? You told him, didn’t you?”
“What? Who?”
“You know who.”
No.
No way.
Haze?
“He’s… he’s here?”
Kendrick nods, panic written all over his face.
Haze is here.
On the other side of the door… is the guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month.
“We have to leave. Now!” Kendrick starts running around like a headless chicken in a miserable attempt to gather all of our belongings.
“Are you serious right now? He’s right here. You can’t stop me from seeing him for the rest of my life. What are we going to do? Escape out the window?”
“We will if that’s what it takes,” Kendrick says.
“You do know I can hear you, right?”
Kendrick jumps at Haze’s voice and stares at the door.
Oops.
Well, we do now.
What is he doing here? He can’t be here. He lost the fight. He should be miles away.
“I just want a minute,” Haze pleads.
“We had a deal, Adams,” Kendrick says, his voiced raised, and heads for my room to get my things. Again, how he plans for us to escape without using the door, I have no idea.
“I know, I know. Listen…” Haze pauses, his voice raspy. “I want to make another deal.”
“Not an option.”
“Kendrick, you know damn well I can pick the lock if I want to. I’m not here to start shit. I just want to talk to her.”
That’s why he’s here.
He came for me.
That came out wrong.
This finally seems to be enough for Kendrick to admit defeat. He knows Haze is right. He’ll find a way in. It’s just a matter of time. He takes a very hesitant step toward the door and slowly unlocks it. I can’t help but hold my breath.
There he is.
In the doorway…
With his hands deep in his pockets, his tousled brown hair a perfect mess, and the bags under his eyes displaying his lack of sleep. Even in this state, he manages to look like the guy up there dropped the whole “hotness” package into the mix while creating him.
That’s it. I can’t lie to myself anymore. The past month changed nothing.
I still have feelings for an idiot.
“I tried to keep my word. I did.”
He turns his head, and our eyes meet for the first time since the night I blacked out in his arms.
“But I can’t.”
A billion unwelcomed emotions infiltrate my heart.
“How the hell did you find us?” Kendrick asks.
“Gee, I don’t know. Staying undercover 101: buy a burner, pay in cash, and maybe don’t spend all your time out in public. It took me fifteen minutes to track you idiots.” He stops and assesses the living room. “Whose place is this anyway?”
“Don’t change the subject. What are you doing here? What do you want?”
“What part of ‘it took me fifteen minutes to find you’ didn’t register? She’s obviously not safe with you. Do you have any idea how many people want her head? She’s coming with me.”
“Like hell she is! You can’t seriously think it’s going to be that easy, do you? If so, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
Haze steps inside the apartment, a smirk settling upon his lips. He looks unbothered by Kendrick’s statement, his gaze locking with mine again as he lifts an eyebrow. I know he’s going to do something just by the cockiness radiating off him.
“If you’re making me choose between not breaking the stupid deal or keeping her alive, I know exactly what my choice is.”
I’m so conflicted. On one hand, I can’t ignore the butterflies literally destroying my stomach, but on the other, I also hate him in more ways than one. He’s here. He went through all this trouble to find us. Yet, he went to Bianca not even a day after I left. His mouth says that he cares…
But his dick said otherwise.