by Dean, Ali
He didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. “I meant it. You might not have realized this, Hazel, but you’ve been my girl since our first kiss.” His words caught me and I almost stumbled backward with the force of them. There was a flicker of something else though in his eyes, despite the conviction in his voice. It looked a little like guilt, like he was holding something back. Still, I felt the words that he had said, those were true. Cruz had no reason to lie to me, and they’d come out so easily for him, straightforward, like it was simple, the way of the world.
Maybe he’d known it to be that way all along, but I hadn’t. Or had I? Maybe somewhere deep inside me, I had known.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well then, one more kiss before we meet the gang.”
Chapter Nine
I could get used to this. Riding on the back of Cruz’s bike felt almost as good as scoring a goal in overtime. It was a rush. Satisfying like nothing else. And also, fleeting. Why did everything with Cruz seem temporary but also frighteningly permanent? I couldn’t help but be right there in the moment whenever he was near. All logic fled. Any reason to put up my guard or analyze things crumbled. I just wanted to be with him, experience him, as if I knew it might be my last time. But like he’d said, I’d kind of always had the sensation that I belonged to him. That he was mine, etched into my soul no matter how rarely we actually spoke to one another. I’d thought I was maybe a little crazy, imagining it. Despite what he’d said in my bedroom, and how he’d sealed it with a kiss and all that, I still had the feeling this was too good to be true and it would come crashing down.
I hadn’t been paying attention to where we were going and when we pulled up in front of a warehouse on the outskirts of town, I was confused. I recognized Spike’s Hummer, but that was the only vehicle.
“What is this place?”
Cruz unfastened my helmet and brushed my hair back from my forehead before taking off his own helmet.
“It’s an old paper mill.”
He took my hand and I followed him inside. The place looked abandoned from the outside, but the inside was awesome. Music played from a stereo system and I stopped, taking it in. On one side, there was a small turf field. Not big enough for an indoor game, but plenty of space to practice drills year-round or have a mini scrimmage. Beside it, a workout area with weights, benches, a punching bag, and a few exercise machines.
My eyes widened as they drifted over a kitchen. It had everything as far as I could tell, even an oven and dishwasher.
I took another step forward to see around the corner to the other side, and my mouth fell open. Spike and Emmett were playing foosball. There was also air hockey, and a pool table. Moody was at a table with a couple computers on it, engrossed in that.
Bodhi was on a couch watching a soccer game on a humongous television. He was the first to notice us and he jumped up, coming at me with a grin.
“About time we got you to the Spot.” He lifted me up and spun me around. Bodhi was a hugger. Or tackler, depending on the situation.
“The Spot?” I couldn’t hide my bewilderment.
“It’s a lame name for this place but it stuck. Feel free to come up with something better.”
I turned to Cruz and repeated my earlier question. “What is this place?”
“It’s ours. We own it.”
“You own it?” I had to clarify. Did he mean one of their parents owned it? Maybe Braven Pharmaceuticals? Spike’s parents were wealthy, but I didn’t think they would have use for a warehouse.
“Yeah,” Cruz said. “We bought it last year and have been fixing it up. Only on the inside though. We want to keep it a secret.”
“But I’m here.”
“Yeah, you’re here,” Cruz said, pulling me to his side.
I wanted to ask more questions, especially about how they managed to buy a warehouse of this size only thirty miles outside Boston. And why? I mean sure, this place was sweet, but it was an awful lot of trouble and effort to go through. They could find all the things here somewhere else, it just wouldn’t be their own, wouldn’t have the privacy or exclusivity, I guess. Why did they need that?
I was about to ask just that, but Spike and Emmett came over then. “First girl at the Spot, Haze. We should celebrate.” Spike fist-bumped me.
“Celebrate?”
“Yep. Shots. Whiskey. It’s the only way to do it. But first, scrimmage time.”
I was wearing cut-off shorts and a tee shirt, not exactly an exercise outfit. “You want to scrimmage now?”
“Hell yeah,” Spike said, heading over to the little turf field. He called behind him, “I haven’t had a chance to play with you for like, three years. Let’s do this. Me and Hazel will take the twins. Cruz, you can rotate in later.”
I glanced at Cruz, who was rolling his eyes. Spike already had a ball on his foot, juggling it.
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
Bodhi nudged me with his shoulders. “It’s not like you get to play real soccer at tryouts.”
“And I’m going to play real soccer now? Right after eating dinner? Also, I’m not wearing a sports bra, so that could be a problem.”
Emmett came up on my other side as Spike passed me the ball. “Excuses, excuses. Where’s that Hazel Ross confidence, huh?”
That was enough for me to shut out the weirdness of all of this and go with it. We went after it, two on two, until I was a sweaty mess. Cruz rotated in, and I got a rush playing with people who were not only as good as me, but better. I could admit that they were faster and stronger now, though I had mad skills and could keep up well enough.
At least an hour had passed when Moody came over, rubbing his eyes. “Yo, Hazel,” he said with a nod, like my presence here was totally normal. “I heard someone talking about celebrating.”
Spike raised his hand from the side where he was waiting his turn. “I got this.”
He went to the kitchen, pulled a bottle from a cupboard, and lined up six shot glasses.
“What are we celebrating?” Moody asked as we all headed off the field. As I lifted my shirt to wipe sweat from my forehead, I caught Cruz staring at my stomach.
“Dumbass. Hazel, of course,” Spike answered.
“I’ll drink to that,” Moody agreed.
We each took a shot glass and raised it up in the air. All the guys said in unison, “To Hazel,” and I followed them in throwing back the dark liquid. It didn’t feel celebratory though, not to me. I knew there were secrets, but I didn’t know if the secrets were important, or if they’d share them with me. I was being accepted, on some level, but I also recognized I wasn’t an insider in this circle. I didn’t know if I ever would be.
I felt the weight of five sets of eyes on me as I put down the glass. My phone rang, breaking through. We all heard it from bench by the turf field where I’d left it earlier. I’d put the volume up all the way in case Dad called; I didn’t want to miss it over the music.
I saw it was him and swiped to answer. I was sure he’d gotten home and was wondering where I was.
“Hey, Dad.” Five sets of eyes remained on me.
“Hazel, where are you, sweetie?” I detected a level of urgency in his question. This was more than a father checking in on his responsible daughter.
“Um. I’m with the guys. The twins, Spike, Peter Moody, Cruz,” I clarified, forgetting for a minute that this wasn’t a regular thing like it used to be years ago.
“What time did you leave the house?”
“Around eight, I guess. Why?” My pulse spiked at the oddness of his question.
“I need you to come home, sweetie. Bring the guys.”
I had turned my back to them but now I spun around. They were all there, still staring at me. I nodded. “Okay. We’re coming.”
After ending the call with my dad, I asked the guys, “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Bodhi grinned. “Like what?
Each of their expressions was a little different, and I couldn’t quite pinp
oint how to characterize their collective stares.
Spike had that stance about him that he got before a game. Most girls probably called it dangerous or sexy, but I called it tense excitement. Emmett was frowning in concern, and maybe sympathy. Bodhi looked like he was ready to burst with… something. Moody had that far-away gaze like he was solving a problem, but this time it felt personal.
And Cruz, well, I was never very good at reading Cruz. I didn’t trust myself when it came to him.
“Never mind,” I said with a sigh. “Come on. My dad says I need to come home, and to bring you.”
I didn’t leave room for argument. I couldn’t take the only car I’d seen in the lot, so someone had to drive me back. And anyway, I knew the guys respected my dad. Whenever they saw him around town or at soccer games, they’d stop and say hello, even if it was inconvenient. I found it interesting because these guys didn’t go out of their way to show respect to many people, including teachers, coaches and parents.
“All of us?” Moody asked, snapping out of whatever problem-solving daze he’d been in.
I nodded, trying to hide a smile. Moody’s respect for my Dad bordered on hero worship, though I’d never outright said so. I’d heard them once outside Button Bottom Bakery talking in computer-speak, exchanging terminology that was over my head, so I could only guess it had to do with that.
I was surprised to see how late it was when we pulled up in front of my house. Nearly midnight. As we walked up to my front door, I asked the guys if they ever slept.
“Sorry we’re keeping you up so late, Haze,” Emmett offered. “We get the fields in the afternoon this week so we get to sleep in. Next week we’ll be hurting.”
“Or you could go to bed earlier,” I pointed out.
“We would, but Cruz here doesn’t sleep so the rest of us have to nap to keep up,” Spike said, shooting a glance over my shoulder at Cruz.
“I sleep,” Cruz said. “But I only need a couple hours.”
My hand paused on the door handle. When most people said something like this, I knew they were exaggerating. With Cruz, I figured it must be true. I shook my head. Of course. He was basically superhuman.
As I opened the door, Moody was rattling on about some gene mutation that only one percent of the population had that gave them the ability to feel fully rested on less than three hours of sleep.
But he stopped mid-sentence as soon as we crossed the threshold. The couch was upside down. The television had been ripped off the wall. Actually, everything that had been hanging from the walls was ripped off. I took another step forward, and Dad emerged from the kitchen, where I could see cupboards open. He stepped over something, and I noted the toaster on the ground.
Dad’s eyes roamed over me as he walked toward us. He pulled me into a hug, and I felt the relief pouring off him. “You’re okay,” I heard him say, his voice muffled from the top of my head.
“Are you?” I pulled back to take him in. He looked the same as always.
Dad nodded. “Let’s go. I haven’t eaten all day.”
My eyes roamed Dad’s face more closely at that declaration. Was he trying to make a joke?
“Dad?” My voice croaked. I was suddenly a little frightened. Someone had broken into our home. We’d been robbed. Why weren’t the cops here? If he’d called them around when he called me, they would have beaten us, right? At the very least, shouldn’t we stay and wait for them?
Dad moved his eyes to Cruz, who stood beside me. They weren’t speaking, but as I turned to look at Cruz, it seemed they were having a silent conversation with their eyes. My heart skipped a beat and it became difficult to swallow. My voice was choked when I asked, “Can we order food? Shouldn’t we stay and see what they took? Wait for the police?”
Dad shook his head as Cruz’s hand slid around my waist. I heard the other guys turning and walking back out the front door. “No, sweetie. I don’t want to be in here right now with the house like this. We’ll have to put everything back together, but I need to get out of here first.”
Cruz was already pulling me out the front door. I noticed none of the guys had said a word. When we hit the sidewalk again, I glanced behind me. Dad was visibly relaxing, but only by degrees. He didn’t look frazzled; I didn’t know if that was possible with him. But his shoulders were tight, and his green eyes seemed sharper than usual, more alert. Typically, when he came home from a work trip he was tired and he slept a lot. He did not appear to be the least bit tired right now.
“Where to, Uncle Jeremy?” Emmett asked.
Dad didn’t hesitate. “The Powell Tavern.”
I opened my mouth to ask why he wanted to drive to Powell when there were two pubs we could walk to that were open until two AM. Before I could, Dad pointed to his car, still addressing Emmett. “I’ll take you and Bodhi. Spike, you take Peter. Cruz, bring Hazel. We’ll meet there.”
Fear settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t ask questions though as I swung my leg behind Cruz and scooted my body up to his back. I wasn’t even sure what to ask, not exactly. Either way, I had a feeling I was about to get some answers.
Chapter Ten
We didn’t meet at the Powell Tavern; instead, Cruz guided me to a dive bar a few buildings down. At that point, everything Cruz did, everything my dad said, raised questions. Questions no one was answering, so I didn’t bother to ask.
I wasn’t even all that surprised when Cruz walked right through the main bar and no one stopped us to ask for IDs. It wasn’t very busy and most of the patrons were middle-aged men who looked like they’d come straight from work. The bartender didn’t appear surprised to see Cruz, who simply pushed through a side door behind the bar, pulling me by the hand behind him. We walked down a hallway, then descended a set of stairs before going through another door. Inside, I found Dad and the others sitting around a table. No one was speaking.
There were two seats left and we slid into them. I couldn’t stop looking at Dad. His expression was indecipherable, and that freaked me out. I thought I knew all Dad’s expressions and what they meant, but not this one. Resigned, serious, determined. Any of those could have described the way his brow was furrowed slightly, his hands clasped in front of him. I sensed it was more complicated than any of that though.
I had to focus my energy on one thing at a time, otherwise the absurdity of the moment, of the entire evening, would crash over me. I didn’t know if I could handle that.
“All right, let’s start with you, Haze. What happened when you got back from soccer today?” Dad asked.
Me? He was starting with me? Why was I the one answering the questions? Shouldn’t I be the one asking them?
Under the weight of his unreadable gaze, I told him. “I did some college essays. Then I went to Patriot Taphouse to grab dinner. On my way home, right in front of the house actually, the Malones pulled up.”
A tick in Dad’s jaw was the only reaction to that news. Cruz’s hand landed on my thigh, and I couldn’t decide how I felt about his show of support. If I needed it or even wanted it.
“Why do I feel like I’m the one under interrogation?” I blurted, letting my anger and frustration show.
Bodhi laughed and his twin sent him an annoyed look. “’Cause you are, Haze. Keep going. Which Malones and what happened?”
So I told them the rest, about what was said, how Cruz interrupted. Dad asked some questions about when it happened, when we left. The only part I left out was the kissing.
“I got home a couple hours after you left. That didn’t give them much time,” Dad mused.
“Did they take anything?” Cruz asked, his hand gripping my leg more tightly.
Dad shook his head. “Nothing of value.”
Nothing of value? Bodhi must have been thinking the same thing because he asked, “What’s that mean? What’d they take?”
“Some flash drives and a laptop,” Dad answered, holding Bodhi’s eyes. “The flash drives didn’t have anything interesting on them and the laptop wasn�
�t my primary computer. Even if it was, it’d be next to impossible to get what they were looking for.”
“But not impossible,” Cruz stated.
“Not impossible. It would take time, and the right person.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I wasn’t shouting, but I didn’t attempt to sound calm either.
When no one answered immediately, I continued. “All of you seem to know something. A lot of somethings,” I added, “and I’m lost here.”
“Okay, Hazel,” Dad said. “I’ll answer what I can. What’s your first question?”
My eyes blazed as I gawked at him. He was going to make me ask one question after the next instead of diving into an explanation? Gritting my teeth, I forced out the first one that popped into my head. “Why are we in the basement of Bruno’s?”
Dad leaned back in his chair, all relaxed, like I’d thrown him an easy one to start. “Because I’m fairly certain they bugged the house, but I haven’t had time to confirm my suspicion. They may have bugged my car, which is why I had you go with Cruz, since I knew you’d ask questions. Even if I do find the bugs, I’ll probably leave them there, so they don’t know we know about them.”
My heart was racing. When Cruz reached for me this time, I batted his hand away and turned to face him. “Did you know this?”
“Know what?” he asked, eyeing me like I was a ticking time bomb. I tried not to be distracted by his dangerous good looks and focus on the conversation.
I huffed out a sound that showed my frustration. “About the bugs.”
Cruz crossed his arms. “I assumed as much when your dad tried to get us out the door, yes.”
My eyes went to everyone around the room.
“So you all know who broke in, and why.” This wasn’t a question. The truth of it settled in me, and with it, a hollowness that left me cold.
“We do,” Dad answered.
“Are you going to tell me?” I tried to keep my voice as even as possible but it was hard. I was raw. Vulnerable.
