by K. C. Crowne
“Hazel, come on, talk to me,” he said, running a hand through his thick short brown hair. The sunlight caught his eyes and they sparkled like gemstones, and once again, I felt woozy. He reached out for me, catching my arm as if I was about to fall.
I yanked it away, but the warmth of his touch was seared into my flesh. The memory of his hand on my skin was enough to send tingles throughout my body.
Pull yourself together, Hazel, I thought to myself. Remember, you wanted to ask them about Boone anyway.
“Uh, yeah, so I wanted to know if you’ve heard from Boone lately?”
Wyatt’s eyes flickered down to the ground, then to his hands. He wasn’t meeting my gaze, and I wondered why. When he didn’t answer, I pressed him for more information.
“Wyatt, please, I haven’t heard from him in days and I’m worried sick.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said, his voice low. He finally looked up at me, his brow furrowed, making him look older than he was for a second. “Ryder heard from him yesterday, but I don’t know much else.”
My heart jumped into my throat. He’d heard from Boone, which meant my brother was alive. Relief washed over me, followed by anger. “God, when I find him I’m going to kick his ass all the way back to L.A.,” I muttered. “Do you know what he said? Where he’s at?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Not really, but Ryder might. I can ask him.”
“Thank you, Wyatt,” I said, feeling like the mystery might finally be solved. I caught myself grinning at Wyatt, and he smiled back at me. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I pushed that smile away and returned to a serious expression.
“No problem. You know I’d do anything for you and Boone, right? Ryder and I’d be nothing without your folks, and if there’s anything I can do, well, you know where to find me.”
His words were sincere, and I wanted to believe him. Dammit, I did believe him. I wanted so badly to ask him about the night of the party, the one where my world had fallen apart, but it had been so damn long, I didn’t know exactly how to bring it up. Besides, we had more important things to think about, like actually finding Boone.
“I know, Wyatt. Thank you,” I said. “If you don’t mind talking to Ryder for me real quick, I’d appreciate it.”
His face fell a bit, but he nodded at me. “Of course. He’s probably sleeping, but it’s high time he get his ass out of bed.”
“Still not a morning person, I see,” I chuckled.
“Never was, never will be. Ryder hasn’t changed a bit,” he said. “But you sure have.”
My cheeks flushed, and I looked away. “Right, so about Boone—”
“Yes, yes, I’m on it,” he promised, turning to walk away. He stopped a few feet away and looked over his shoulder, nearly catching me checking out his ass. “Are you okay otherwise?”
“I’m fine, Wyatt,” I said. “Just worried about my brother.”
“You sure that’s all it is?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Positive,” I said. It was a lie, but how could I express everything I felt? I missed my mom and Boone, I missed the family we once had, and yes, I missed my two best friends. There was so much I’d given up when I’d moved out to L.A, and being home brought it all back to me.
“Alright, if you insist,” he said, and he continued walking to his home.
I stared at his ass in those tight jeans as he walked away because hell, I was still very much a warm-blooded female, and he was hot as fuck.
“Cool your jets, Hazel,” I said to myself, returning to the garden. “Remember why you’re here. It’s not to get laid.”
Sure, getting laid might be nice, but there was no way it would be as simple as all that. Not with the Douglas boys was, not with our history. I needed to keep my head on straight to avoid being hurt again.
Ryder
I awoke to a pounding on the door, followed by Wyatt’s voice. “Ryder, you up?” he asked.
“I am now,” I groaned as he opened the door.
My brother stood in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a stern look on his face. He looked worried, which caused me to worry. I sat upright and was instantly awake.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Hazel’s upset. Apparently she hasn’t heard from Boone in a few days, and she’s concerned.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Is that all? You fucking woke me up because Hazel is worried about Boone?”
“She’s really upset, Ryder. I know you’ve heard from him, thought you could share what you know with her.”
The text messages from the day before had stopped after Boone said he wasn’t drunk. “It’s just a bunch of gibberish and shit,” I muttered, scrolling through the messages.
“Can I see?” I handed the phone to him, and he looked even more worried than before. “Just a bunch of random numbers and letters,” he said. “None of it makes any sense.”
“Tell me about it. I think it’ll only freak Hazel out more, especially the parts about us being the only people who can help him and not to talk to her about it.”
“Yeah, but I already told her you’d talked to him.”
“You what?” I said, running a hand over the stubble on my chin. It was growing fast and getting out of hand. I needed to clean it up, eventually. “You actually talked to Hazel?”
“I did,” he said, handing me my phone back. “And she asked me to talk to you.”
“So she really wants our help?” I asked.
“It would appear so,” Wyatt said.
After her giving me the finger the day before, the news took me by surprise. It was a complete 180. Suddenly, she was willing to talk to us, Wyatt, at least, and wanted us to help her find her brother. It made me think something serious might be going on.
I rolled out of bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes with a big yawn. I stretched as I stood up and reached for the jeans on the floor. Throwing on my clothes in silence, I followed Wyatt out of the house and to the Hudson home. I still wasn’t sure what to expect, especially since Hazel had made it very clear how she felt about me the day before, but if she needed help, I was there.
Wyatt tapped on the front door, and we waited out front. In the past, we wouldn’t have had to knock— we’d have just walked right in and been welcomed inside.
When the front door swung open, Hazel stood in the doorway in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy, but she didn’t need to get all dressed up to look good. Not with her body.
The shorts showed off her toned legs and calves, the t-shirt was fitted enough to highlight her hourglass figure. Her red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, allowing tendrils to fall around her porcelain face. Without any makeup, her freckles stood out against the paleness.
And as expected, my body reacted to her just as it always had— with all the blood rushing down to my dick. I was speechless at first, but Wyatt managed to do all the talking as Hazel let us into her home. She wasn’t smiling at either of us, more like scowling, and it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling stepping inside the old house. We certainly weren’t welcomed with open arms like we used to be.
“Wyatt said you talked to Boone,” Hazel said, narrowing her gaze on me as we took a seat in the living room. She chose the single chair, leaving Wyatt and me on the sofa. She crossed her arms and legs and stared me down like it was an interrogation.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it talking to him, but I’ve heard from him, yes,” I said. I remembered the one specific message that said to not tell Hazel. Not that I had much to tell besides the fact that I’d heard from him and that there were some weird messages from him. Beyond that, I had no idea what we were supposed to keep a secret from her.
“What did he say?”
“Not much honestly,” I said, scratching my head.
“Can I see the messages?”
I glanced at Wyatt, who shrugged. Again, all I could think about was that Boone didn’t want Hazel to know something. I didn’t want to break my friend�
��s trust, but I also wanted to ease her mind.
“There’s not really much to show,” I said. “The messages made no sense. It was like maybe he was drunk or something.”
“I’d still like to see them if that’s alright with you,” she said.
I looked at my brother for guidance. Wyatt didn’t seem to have an opinion either way and remained quiet, which didn’t help my predicament.
“I can’t do that,” I said at last.
“And why can’t you?” Hazel asked, cocking her eyebrows.
“Because, well, Boone asked me not to,” I said.
“Oh? So my brother is missing and sending you weird, nonsensical messages, and you’re going to keep them from me? Typical.” She rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“Typical? What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, the rumbling of rage boiling inside me.
“Just that I knew I couldn’t count on you to do the right thing,” she said, her voice clipped.
That was it. The rage inside me boiled over, and I stood up, towering over her. Wyatt joined me, grabbing my arm, but I pushed him away.
“And what the fuck do you know about me, Hazel? Not like you’ve been around the last few years or anything,” I said. “You’ve been too busy in your own little world. You don’t even know what your brother’s up to. Now that’s typical.”
Hazel’s cheeks and chest burned bright red. She stood up, and even though she was a foot shorter than me, she rose up on her tiptoes and got right in my face.
“I know my brother better than you ever did,” she spat.
“Oh yeah? Then why is he talking to me and not you?” I asked.
Wyatt grabbed my arm again, and I yanked it away a second time, shooting him a death glare. He backed off, moving closer to Hazel. She lunged toward me, but Wyatt grabbed her hand. She stopped and looked at my brother, and for a split second, I thought she might slap him. But she didn’t. She let him hold her hand, and even though it was silly, jealousy coursed through me.
They’d always been closer, while I was closer to Boone, and I envied Wyatt for that. I’d wanted Hazel to give me a shot, and the one time she almost did, Boone had ruined it. I knew I’d probably never get another chance with her again, and that ate me up inside. Seeing Wyatt holding her hand, and the way Hazel looked at him, pushed me over the edge even more.
I rushed past them and headed for the door. I pushed it open, but before leaving, I looked over my shoulder. Hazel and Wyatt were still there, lost in each other’s eyes, oblivious to my presence. My last words had been lost to them both.
I stepped out the door, slamming it behind me as Wyatt called out my name.
“Ryder, come back!”
I wasn’t going back in there. I owed Hazel nothing. She couldn’t just waltz back into our lives, bringing chaos with her, and expect me to bow down to her demands. Not when those demands went against the wishes of my best friend, someone I’d finally been able to reconnect with again, after years of distance, all because of Hazel and whatever her bullshit beef was with us.
I wasn’t about to let her tear Boone and me apart again. Not when it was clear there’d never, ever be a chance to be close to her again.
Wyatt
“Dammit,” Hazel muttered as she watched Ryder leave. “Still has a temper, I see.”
“Well, to be fair, you did push his buttons a bit, but that’s nothing new,” I said with a chuckle. I was aware that her hand was still in mine and she hadn’t pulled away, and I wasn’t about to let her go.
“Everything pushes his buttons,” Hazel said with a small hint of a smile. She wiped the grin away as quickly as it appeared and pulled her hand free from mine. She took a seat in the chair, and I went back to the sofa, the moment between us having clearly passed.
“Yeah, well, he was hurt when you up and left like you did,” I said, speaking slowly, afraid I might trigger something in her. “We both were.”
Her brow furrowed, and she glared at me. “Well, had you two—” She held up her hand. “You know what? Never mind.”
“You’re still not going to tell us what happened? What did we do to make you so damn angry?” I asked. I was feeling brave since she’d held onto my hand, brave enough to push for some long-awaited answers. She frowned at me.
“Now’s not the time for that,” she said, shaking her head. “We need to find Boone. Did you read any of these messages?”
“I saw a few,” I told her, rubbing my chin. I wanted to say something about her changing the subject, but decided I’d pushed hard enough for now.
“And?” she asked, throwing her hands in the air. “What did they say?”
“Besides the one about not telling you, they were all gibberish. Nothing made sense,” I said. There was one more about Ryder and me being the only people who could help him, but I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about that one or not.
“That’s it?” she asked. She gave me a look that said she knew me too well and knew I was keeping something from her.
With a sigh, I said, “And one that said we were the only people who could help him.”
“Who’s we?”
“I assume he meant Ryder and me,” I said with a shrug. “Since he specifically asked to keep you out of it.”
“And that’s all? He didn’t tell you what he wanted help with?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not yet at least.”
“Do you promise to keep me in the loop, Wyatt? If you hear anything else from him, you’ll let me know, right?”
I flinched. I hate making promises I wasn’t sure I could keep. It would all depend on what was happening. Something was definitely going on, and for one reason or another, he wanted to keep Hazel out of it. Until I knew exactly why, I didn’t want to promise anything.
“Wyatt?” she pressed.
“Hazel, I don’t know what’s going on, or what will happen. I can’t promise you anything. Boone specifically asked us not too.”
She let out a groan of frustration. “And I thought I could trust you.”
“You can trust me, Hazel,” I said. “That’s why I’m telling you this now. I can’t guarantee anything until I understand what the hell we’re dealing with.”
“If you’re not going to help me find my brother, just go,” she said, her annoyance becoming clearer.
“Do you think it’s wise to be alone?” I asked. “I mean, we don’t know what’s going on and—”
“It’s fine,” she said, standing up from the chair and walking toward the door. “I’m sure it’s nothing, right? I mean, you and Ryder seem to think it’s no big deal.”
Sarcasm dripped from her tongue like poison, and I could see the contempt in her eyes. Any progress I’d made getting closer to her had vanished in a blink of an eye.
“Hazel, I think it might be better if you came and stayed with us until we find Boone.”
“I can take care of myself. Now please go,” she ordered, motioning toward the door.
I could have fought her, told her I wasn’t going anywhere, but I couldn’t bear to see the way she looked at me. And she was right. It was probably nothing and I was being paranoid. I didn’t want to leave, but I wouldn’t stay where I wasn’t wanted. I got up from the couch and walked to the door, stopping short of it.
“I’m sorry for everything, Hazel,” I whispered.
“Everything? So you’re admitting there’s something to be sorry about,” she said. Her jaw was clenched tightly as she looked up at me.
“I still have no idea what you’re so pissed about, but obviously there’s something,” I said. “And trust me when I say, I’d never, ever do anything to hurt you. Not intentionally. So if I have hurt you, well, I’m sorry.”
Her face softened, and I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between us and hold her close to me, to kiss her sweet lips. But we weren’t there yet, and I wasn’t sure we’d ever be. I couldn’t truly apologize for something without knowing what I was apologizing for.
I walked out of her house, shutting the front door behind me. It took everything in me not to turn around and continue our conversation, but I knew Hazel and I knew she needed her space. In time, maybe she’d come around, but I couldn’t rush her.
At least she’d come back home, even if it was temporary. That was a sign things were looking up, or so I could hope.
ooo000ooo
My phone buzzed as I was walking into my house. Pulling it out, I noticed a message from Boone.
Fucking perfect timing, I thought with a chuckle. As I pulled the message up, my laughter stopped. Message after message came pouring in, to a group text that included Ryder as well.
Whatever you do, protect Hazel at all costs.
I’m in a lot of trouble, and they may come after her.
Keep her safe. She can’t know about any of this.
You’re the only two people who can help me.
The messages stopped after that one, as did my heart. I stood on the front porch, staring at my phone in disbelief and hoping it was some sick prank by Boone. He was known for pranks now and then, but they’d always been silly. Nothing serious like this. When he didn’t respond for a few minutes, I typed a message.
Where are you, and what’s going on? How can we help you?
I walked into the house, looking for Ryder. He was getting the messages too, and I hoped to God they made some sense to him. My phone buzzed just as I was heading up the stairs. I stopped, part way up the stairs just as Ryder was rushing down them to find me. We stared at each other, both taking out our phones at the same time.
Ryder read the message aloud. “Mob. They’re watching everything I do. I can’t say much, but you’ll understand. You’re the only people who will understand.”
“What does he mean?” I asked.
“Beats me,” Ryder shrugged.
“Enough with the texting,” I growled, dialing his number. The phone didn’t even ring, it went straight to voicemail. I tried again. Nothing. Ryder watched me from the top of the stairs as I tried a third time and got his voicemail.