by Dean, Ali
“What is, Hazel?” Cruz’s voice was warm in my ear.
“We hesitated to turn over all the evidence against the Malones because we thought it meant we’d be igniting World War Three. But look at us now.”
“It’s not over, Haze, it’s a long way from over.” Moody said from beside me, patting my knee.
“She’s right though, man,” Spike said, lifting his head up from where he’d been resting it against a pillow. “We came on so strong, they had nothing left to fight with. They tried, with the hit on Hazel, but it backfired. Now they know any play they make at this point will only backfire. It’s not what we expected. We thought we’d have to keep fighting to get that evidence through, to prove our position.”
“It’s all your dad, Haze. Uncle Jeremy.” Emmett met my eyes. “Sure we helped figure out who to drop the evidence to and get him some intel he couldn’t do from behind screens, but without him this never would’ve happened.”
I took a deep breath. “I know. I haven’t even spent much time with him since this all happened. He’s still so tied up in the investigation, everyone wants to talk to him. I think even when it’s not crucial to the investigation or a press release people just want an excuse to interview him or get some time with him. He’s a celebrity now. It’s weird.”
“Yeah,” Bodhi said, nodding. “There’s some adjustments happening, but it’s not what we were expecting it to be.”
It was silent again for a few minutes as we all reflected on this. Cruz’s thumb rubbed up and down the skin above my jeans, and I couldn’t figure out if he was spacing out or purposefully teasing me. I got my answer when he broke the silence. “You think it’s because of what my dad was saying about Seamus?” He was deep in thought, and the rest of us took a moment to catch up.
“What do you mean?” I asked, turning my head and lifting my chin to look at him.
He looked down at me before answering. “I don’t know how much sense Dad was making, or if any of it was true, but I was just thinking…” Cruz looked up and around at the other guys before finishing his sentence. “Maybe Seamus was ready to give up. If he never wanted any of this, if a lot of the moves against us were by his sons or brothers anyway, maybe he’s just surrendering.”
Moody was the first to respond. “I heard what your dad was saying, and who knows if it’s true. Not because your dad forgot what the conversation was about, that’s not what I mean. But even if Seamus did say that stuff, he could have just been appeasing your dad, you know? Playing with him or something.”
“Does it even matter?” Spike asked. “Whether he’s giving up by choice or because he’s backed into a corner, the result is the same.”
“Doesn’t matter to us,” Bodhi said, “But it matters to your dad, Cruz. So I’m glad he got whatever he needed to feel peace, you know?”
“But it does matter to us, doesn’t it?” I challenged. “If his sons aren’t about to give up, if they have a different view on all this, shouldn’t we be more concerned about them?”
“I don’t know,” Cruz said. “They know we can ruin them if they push against us. We already have Neil behind bars. His brother and cousins will be right behind him if they mess with us. They know that.”
“And if Seamus has any influence at all, he’ll talk them out of it, tell them he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for their stupidity in the first place,” Emmett added.
“Well, he might not be,” I finished. After all, it was Neil’s little game at the frat house that ruined any chance for a truce.
“What about the rest of the hockey team? We still need to deal with them,” Moody said.
“We will,” Cruz agreed. “But then I think we might need to learn a thing or two from Seamus and what he said to Dad.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I wondered.
“I don’t know if Seamus really said it or if Dad was just trying in a roundabout way to tell us something,” Cruz started out. “I’ve been noticing lately Dad has like this subconscious will to give me advice or whatever, and he can’t quite execute it the way he wants but he manages to get his point across another way. Or maybe I’m just imagining it, looking for fatherly advice from him when it’s not there.”
We let Cruz reflect, knowing he needed this, and being there to listen. He was scattered, and that wasn’t like him. I’d blame the weed, but I think it was simply talking about his dad, opening up, that was a struggle for him. I wanted to comfort him but for now I just burrowed in deeper to his lap, letting him know I was right there.
“It’s not all black and white, you know? Seamus might not be all bad, but that’s the hand he was dealt. We have all this power now. We’re in a position to dish out warnings and consequences as we deem fit, just like the Malones did for years. We gotta be careful how we do it. We don’t want to turn into another version of the Malones.”
The rest of us scoffed and started to protest at that, but Cruz cut us off. “I know we won’t be starting up on organized crime, but I mean, we don’t want people scared of us. Scared if they look at us funny we’ll pull their Harvard scholarship or get them kicked off a team.”
“We don’t, man. We wouldn’t. The only people we’re messing with messed with us first,” Spike argued.
I put a hand over Cruz’s. “You don’t want us to go after the guys on the hockey team who put you in the hospital? The ones who were probably involved in that bet with Easton and do it to other girls?” Is that what he was getting at?
“No. I do. All I’m saying is let’s exercise some restraint. I’m talking about myself too. Talking to myself I guess.” Cruz let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I shouldn’t have gone after those guys on my own in the first place, I know that. And you all know I’m sorry for it. The hockey guys responded how they thought they should. The Malones were still in power. Maybe they thought the Malones would hurt them worse if they didn’t do it. Who knows?”
Moody told us, “Well, we could just get them kicked off the team rather than kicked out of school. I have enough on them for that. That would cover what they did to Hazel and what Blake said they were doing to other recruits.”
Cruz rested his chin on top of my head and I felt how tired he was. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You know what the biggest difference is between us and them?” Emmett asked. “This shit doesn’t feel all that great, you know? Sure we like to fight, but it’s exhausting deciding people’s fates. I’m ready to go back to soccer, school, and parties.”
I felt Cruz laughing. “You mean you don’t get off on ruining people, Emmett?”
“Nope. And I can tell you don’t either, man. I mean, I know you got this TBI and all but I’ve never seen you so tired.”
“I think we all know what gets Cruz off,” Spike said.
I rolled my eyes. “Cute, Spike, real cute.”
“I didn’t say who I said what, you’re making assumptions.”
“Uh-huh,” Cruz said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “What’s that?”
“Scoring goals. Let’s get you back on the field, man.”
The conversation moved back to easy banter until we needed to stretch our legs. It was past lunch time too and we all seemed to realize at the same time that we were starving. We wandered back to the house, where Mitch could usually be counted on to anticipate our hunger needs. He was in his office though, and given the ordeal earlier with Jake, we didn’t disturb him.
The guys started rummaging around in the fridge and pantry but Cruz put a stop to their investigations. “Gramps is on a health kick and you guys have the munchies. Let’s go somewhere.”
“We don’t have the munchies,” Emmett grumbled. “We barely smoked.”
The others protested too, claiming they never got very high. “Dude, I need some real food. Protein. I’m not looking for Oreos,” Spike said, opening the freezer and pulling out a bag of frozen peas. He scrunched up his face. “I don’t mean vegetables.”
“Yeah, well, your idea of real food is not t
he same as Gramps’s. Come on, Hazel can drive, she didn’t smoke.”
Next thing, I was behind the wheel of Moody’s 4Runner and five guys were piled in. They hadn’t thought through the seating arrangements. We’d piled into one vehicle plenty of times but usually that meant I was on Cruz’s lap. The guys weren’t down with getting that cozy so Bodhi took the trunk.
I just hoped we didn’t get pulled over. But even if we did, who cared? I turned up the music and rolled down the windows as we pulled out of the drive. This felt so carefree, and normal. It was exactly the kind of fun I’d been looking for all those weeks ago. A surge of happiness washed through me as I moved my hand to the beat outside the window, letting the wind flow through my fingers.
I looked over at the passenger seat and found Cruz watching me, a little smile on his face. He mouthed, “Love you Haze.”
I started to mouth it back but then four guys behind us groaned and made gagging noises. I giggled but admonished them. “What are you guys? Five years old? I don’t have cooties and it’s okay for a boy to express his feelings for a girl.”
The guys protested, making fun of Cruz. It all felt right. Too right? I glanced again at Cruz, wondering if he’d start to pull away. He was laughing at something Spike said, shaking his head. With no immediate crisis on the horizon, and everything falling into place, I almost expected Cruz to retreat into himself again, or create tension that didn’t exist, like he had with Isaiah. But no, Cruz looked, well, he looked free. Like maybe by admitting his fears to me, he’d given himself permission to face them.
I heard Emmett moan something about how I was ogling Cruz. But I couldn’t help it. Freedom looked damn good on Cruz Donovan.
Chapter 24
Cruz
Music was playing so loud it took me a second to realize the gunshot noise wasn’t from the car stereo. Hazel swerved, and I wanted to dive to cover her, to tell her to get down, but she was the one at the wheel. I did it anyway, trying to grab control of the car from her, but she shoved an elbow at my chest.
She did scoot lower in her seat when she shouted at me, “I’ll drive. They’re behind us. Who has a gun?”
Moody was already opening the roof window when another shot rang out. We all felt it as the car rattled and tilted. “Shit! That was a tire.”
“You can drive on a flat,” I told her. “Just keep going.” I glanced behind me before rising to join Moody at the roof.
We were on a two-lane road with very little traffic in the middle of the day. It was curvy though, and Hazel would have trouble maintaining speed with a flat.
Spike called from the back seat, “Shit, that’s Keegan Malone at the wheel!”
“I’m lying flat!” Bodhi called from the trunk. “But saw there’s three of them!”
“It’s Brandon and Sean too,” Emmett confirmed. “Those idiots. We got this.”
“Call the cops, guys,” Hazel yelled at them. “And don’t shoot anyone.”
“Fine,” Emmett relented. “I’ll call the cops. But at least shoot out their tires or windows first.”
Moody and I stayed low but pointed our guns at the SUV behind us. Hazel was fishtailing a bit and they were right at the bumper. I made eye contact with Sean in the passenger seat and forced myself to breathe. I had the shot. His gun was pointed out the window and he fired, smashing our rear window.
“Fuck!” Bodhi shouted from the trunk. A moment later, he reassured us, “I’m fine. Didn’t shatter.”
I started to squeeze the trigger, my skin burning with the need to take him out. He’d fired at Hazel and my best friends. But I remembered how much easier the takedown with the hitmen had gone when we’d exercised a little restraint. How much smoother this would be if I held back. At the last second, I shifted my aim, hitting the top of their windshield and sending a crack shattering throughout it. There’d be no human damage but it would impede visibility, maybe slow them down.
Moody fired a moment later, getting the rim of the wheel but not taking the tire. If we wanted to hit the tire we’d have to stand up higher. We couldn’t get the angle if we stayed covered. Another shot rang out, and this one hit Hazel’s side mirror. That was too damn close. I stood up further to get the right angle, exposing myself to a hit. Moody tried to pull at me but I stood firm.
I’d always been the best shot at the range, and I set my aim quickly, adjusting as the 4Runner swayed beneath me.
I pulled the trigger and this time, I got the tire. Between a flat tire and a windshield cracked straight across, Keegan lost control for a beat and swerved into the wrong lane.
Our own ride started to rattle as the flat gave way to the rim. We couldn’t go long at this speed.
Hazel pulled us to the side right as we heard the sirens.
Branden and Sean had gotten back on the road in the right direction, but they weren’t in any shape to outrun the cops with a flat tire. A moment later we watched as two cop cars blocked the road ahead. They were nearly a half mile away and it was hard to make out what was happening. I slid down back into my seat and glanced at Hazel. She was still gripping the steering wheel and I reached for her.
Her voice shook when she asked, staring straight ahead, “Everyone okay?”
There was a collective response. “We’re all good,” I confirmed.
I unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her over to my lap. She came willingly, climbing onto me and curling her body into mine. We sat there like that as we watched the cops snap handcuffs onto Branden, Sean and Keegan.
“I definitely have the munchies now,” Bodhi volunteered, breaking the silence. “You think the cops will give us a ride to Dunkin? I could go for some doughnuts.”
* * *
I forgot about the follow-up appointment with my doctor but he made an exception and got me in early this morning. He gave me the all-clear to go to practice on Monday, but I had to sit out today’s game. If I went a few more days without headaches or sleepiness, I could play in next Saturday’s game. It was good news, and we had even more to celebrate now.
The cops had taken a good fifteen minutes dealing with the Malones before they’d approached the 4Runner. It was almost like they were giving us time to ditch our guns if we needed to. The thing was, it had only been me and Moody carrying and both our guns were registered. All of us had gotten consent from our parents to go to the range when we were minors, and Moody’s parents had gone as far as consenting to him registering a gun before he turned eighteen years old. I’m not sure how he talked them into that, but they were probably relieved now.
Since we’d been the ones to call the cops and it was clear from the shots the Malones came up from behind us, we weren’t arrested. We didn’t know for certain if self defense would keep us in the clear, but Uncle Cliff said it’d be a stretch to charge us with anything related to the incident. Well, we did get a ticket for having an extra passenger, but that was just a fine to pay.
The rest of the Malones were in jail, and it finally felt like we had won. With Hazel around Defiance Falls this weekend after all, we were planning another party after the games. This time, I knew I wouldn’t be acting anything out when I celebrated. It felt right to embrace the festivities.
It was weird sitting on the bench with the second and third string players as the ref blew his whistle and the game started up. I was never on the bench at kickoff, and it went against my nature to sit back and watch my own teammates. It took conscious effort to shift my mindset and soak in the atmosphere. We had a home game, and the women’s team was playing at the same time on another field. Half the town seemed to have come out for these games, and the vibe was celebratory, like we’d already won. Sun was warming up the chilly late morning temperatures, but people were dressed for fall. The concession stands with hot cider, hot chocolate and doughnuts were in full swing, the scents drifting over to the field.
Even on the bench, I could feel eyes watching me from the stands. They might hold some skepticism and uncertainty in their gazes now but they’d s
ee with time that any power I might have wasn’t something they had to fear. We wouldn’t become the Malones.
A ball went whizzing by my feet and it took effort to remain seated. I wanted to be the one to pick it up and throw it back in the game, but I watched Emmett do it instead. He tossed it in front of his twin, who had taken my center position for now. Bodhi trapped it with his chest, and a defender reached to kick it away, but Bodhi was faster. With one smooth motion, he had possession of the ball and the opposing team’s player was behind him. Bodhi went straight to the goal, his strides strong and purposeful. The sweeper from the other team sprinted across the field to intercept, but Bodhi made a single fake, allowing him just enough time to kick the ball out of the sweeper’s reach.
He was at the top of the penalty line now and we were all on our feet, the noise from the crowd deafening. It was only the first few minutes of a regular season game, but that didn’t matter in this town. Every breakaway was something to cheer about.
Bodhi swung his leg in that picture-perfect motion and sent the ball straight to the corner of the net. The goalie barely had time to react, there was so much power on that strike. Bodhi liked to celebrate his goals and he did a little jog in a circular motion, arms wide, grinning at the stands. I saw him falter for a second and followed his gaze.
Ruby Firestone was seated in the back row, a ball cap on her head and the hood of a sweatshirt pulled over that too. But for anyone who knew her, she wasn’t exactly incognito. Maybe it should have sent a spike of fear through me. That was the reaction I was waiting for, the one I usually got when I sensed danger. But it didn’t come. As Bodhi continued lapping up the praise from our teammates and the fans, the opposite sensation washed over me. Calmness. A steadiness filled me deep and it was so unfamiliar, it nearly sent me to my knees with the force of it.
I found myself sitting again on the bench with the others when the play started again, my mind spinning as I reveled in what was happening. It didn’t last long. When halftime hit, the guys came over for water and a pep talk from our coach. We were up by three goals, and only needed to keep plugging forward. But before the guys could return to the field, the sound of sirens cut through the high school soccer fields. It sent a tremor through me, remembering the last time I’d heard that noise on school property.
