Unwritten Rules

by Eliah Greenwood

  A couple of meters stand between us and the center of the circle.

  “What’s the North Side doing here?” Blake says through gritted teeth.

  My gaze travels upward to the large flock of unknown and diverse faces. Kendrick wasn’t lying when he said people came from everywhere to see the show.

  When I see Ian, leader of the North Side and Haze’s ally, I can’t stop the thumping in my chest. Our eyes meet and he smirks, probably thinking of all the different ways he could murder me.

  I peel my eyes away, fighting the burning need to look for Haze’s face in the crowd. The person I see instead is Tanner. My breathing increases as I deny him eye contact. I can feel his gaze stinging in my skull. Then, after what seems to be an eternity, Kendrick puts an end to my misery and comes to an abrupt stop. Blake, Alex, and Will do the same.

  “Finally.”

  I recognize the voice who’s been haunting my every waking moment. I can’t bear to look at him, hiding behind Kendrick and the guys like a terrified puppy.

  “We’re here, Haze. Let’s get this over with,” Kendrick fumes.

  “I’d like nothing more, but first… show me the prize.”

  My heart sinks.

  I can’t believe these words just came out of his mouth.

  Out of obligation, Will, Alex, and Blake step aside, but Kendrick doesn’t. He stays in position, clenching his fists as if to say, “Anyone who wants to touch her will have to go through me first.”

  Haze scoffs. “What are you afraid of? I’m not going to look at her to death.”

  The crowd cackles.

  Kendrick sighs and moves barely enough for Haze to get a clear shot of me. That’s when the last trace of will I have leaves my body, and I look up.

  Our gazes lock.

  There he is, across the circle, wearing his ripped leather jacket and his oh-so-usual arrogant and yet unbearably charming smile. Dark bags rim his piercing blue eyes, making it obvious that he hasn’t gotten much sleep lately.

  The blood coursing through my veins turns cold at the complete absence of kindness in his features.

  Whoever this guy is, it’s not Haze.

  He looks like him. He sounds like him. But he’s a stranger.

  I never thought looking at a stranger could hurt this much.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Haze begins as cheers rise all around us. “Thank you for joining us tonight.”

  He steps into the circle. “As some of you may have heard, Kendrick here has been a very good fighter recently. Too good. He’s actually been doing so well that some of you started to think he might be better than me.” He pauses, mockery lingering in his tone. “So, of course, I have no choice but to put that to the test.”

  Great. All of this for an ego problem.

  “But I thought we’d spice it up a little bit. Why not get something else out of it? You see, the East Side and I made a deal. If I win, I get to have this pretty little thing to myself for a month.”

  Everybody turns to look at me.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  “But if I lose, Kendrick and his… friend here are free to leave unscathed. You know the rules. You know the game. No refunds, no second chances, no killing, and no interference. You’ve all placed your bets.” Haze raises his voices. “Now, are you ready?”

  The shouts grow in volume.

  Kendrick and Haze both remove their shirts and throw them on the floor. Too much testosterone in here.

  It’s well-known that wearing clothes during a fight isn’t recommended as the fabric can be pulled and used against you. Although they’re not doing it to impress the ladies, I can tell from the looks on the faces of the girls witnessing the scene that they find the boys to be a sight for sore eyes. As for me, I can’t even begin to think about that right now.

  “No, Kendrick.” I reach for his arm.

  “I’m going to be okay. I promise.” I can see the fear burning in the back of his eyes. “Remember, you can’t interfere. Promise me.”

  “I—”

  He insists. “Promise me, Winter.”

  I almost choke on the words. “I promise.”

  I clench my jaw as the tears come pouring down my cheeks, my poor eyes obviously unable to contain them anymore.

  This is happening… and it’s my fault. Haze and Kendrick stare at each other in silence, ready to attack. I hold my breath, waiting for the first move.

  Then, the inevitable happens.

  Haze takes the first punch.

  Kendrick easily dodges it, but when Haze lands a bigger, harder one seconds later, he’s not so lucky. Kendrick groans and steps back, struggling to maintain his balance. A single punch like this would be enough to kill me. His eyebrow’s already bleeding.

  Kendrick’s fists then turn into white-knuckled weapons that send Haze flying to the ground. Two seconds later, he’s back on his feet, rushing toward Kendrick and tackling him. Before Haze has the chance to attack, Kendrick knees him in the stomach and elbows him in the face.

  I’ve never seen anything so horrible. The crowd clearly doesn’t agree with me, cheering in satisfaction at this display of horrific violence. It’s all happening so fast, it’s hard to keep up.

  One more punch, one more kick.

  It feels like it’ll never end.

  Next thing I know, the tables have turned and Kendrick’s under Haze. Both their lips are cut open. Haze’s nose is bleeding, and Kendrick’s eyebrow isn’t doing much better.

  Straddling him, Haze repeatedly punches him in the face, over and over again. Kendrick tries to dodge his punches but fails miserably, his arm dropping to his side in defeat.

  He’s not strong enough.

  If Haze keeps this up, he’s going to kill him.

  I can’t stop a loud scream mixed with sobs from escaping my lips at the thought. I don’t care what happens to me. Kendrick doesn’t deserve this. As if my intentions are written in the sky, strong arms surround me from behind before I can step into the circle and put an end to this madness.

  “Winter, don’t!” Will shouts, struggling to hold me back.

  “No. Stop. Let me go,” I beg, the hysterical tears stealing my sight away from me. I’ve never fought harder.

  I scream again, but this time, it cuts through the piercing shouting of the crowd and echoes among its roar.

  Haze hears it.

  And he looks up.

  It feels like time stops when our eyes connect. He’s staring at me. I’m bawling my eyes out and fighting Will like my life depends on it. In that moment, when he sees me cry in despair, color drains from his face. For a short instant… for just a second…

  I recognize him.

  The Haze who protected me from Ian when he had no reason to. The guy who took me to the end of the world just so I could look at the stars. The guy who once admitted to me that he was afraid of spiders on a dusty school rooftop and helped me get out of a motorcycle helmet that was stuck on my head.

  He’s still in there.

  It seems to happen in slow motion. He looks at me and says a million things without opening his mouth. He nods.

  It only lasts a second. It’s almost nothing.

  But I see it.

  It’s like he said, “It’s okay, I got this.”

  We’re brought back to reality when Kendrick takes advantage of Haze’s distraction and takes one hell of a swing at him. I feel relieved and guilty at the same time, which is something I never knew was possible. I distracted him and stopped him from hurting Kendrick, but now he’s the one getting beat up. Kendrick’s on top of him, hounding him with punches. Haze doesn’t fight back.

  Why isn’t he fighting back?

  He doesn’t get up, covering his face with his hands in an attempt to protect himself. He’s not on the offensive anymore. He’s defensive. Kendrick gets up, kicking Haze in the stomach recklessly. Both of them are bloody messes at this point.

  “Ten
.”

  The crowd begins the countdown.

  “Nine.”

  Haze rolls over to his side, holding on to his stomach in agony.

  “Eight.”

  I’m praying that he’ll stay on the ground.

  “Seven.”

  Praying for all of this to be over soon.

  “Six.”

  Please, Haze…

  “Five.”

  Don’t get up.

  “Four.”

  The sobs are suffocating me.

  “Three.”

  Ian and his fighters scream for him to get back up. I frown, narrowing my eyes. There’s something about them. Something I didn’t notice that night in front of the school.

  “Two.”

  Ian turns his head, and our eyes meet. He smiles.

  “One.”

  The oxygen abandons me. I blink in disbelief.

  “Zero.”

  It’s over. Kendrick won.

  But the sound that cuts through the thick air right after tells me that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  It’s not over at all.

  The gunshot echoes through the screams of despair. The lights go out in a piercing and vibrant noise. People start running in panic, shoving each other, all with one goal and one goal only: to survive.

  I hear Haze calling my name. I hear his voice in the chaos.

  But he doesn’t hear me.

  He doesn’t hear me when somebody violently yanks me from behind and twists my hair around their fingers.

  He doesn’t hear me when the soaked cloth is pressed against my mouth and my senses spill out of me.

  I know he’ll never hear me when my knees surrender and I feel myself falling. As I slowly slip out consciousness, I wish I could go back and tell them the truth. All of it. And the last thing I see before all turns black… is the memory of Ian and his fighters staring at me across the room.

  They all have scars.

  S I X T E E N

  Save Me

  EXTERN

  The room was silent.

  No one was brave enough to speak or move a muscle, the tension in the atmosphere unbearably heavy. Like the numerous fighters in the room feared even breathing too loud would be enough to send the East Side leader into a spiral of uncontrollable anger, they stood there, helpless.

  He had been sitting in silence with his face hidden by both his hands for the last twenty minutes. His friends, who usually cheered him up, couldn’t seem to find the words to ease his pain.

  The room was wrecked.

  Glass and furniture were scattered across the kitchen floor.

  The Kingston house had never been such a mess, and Kendrick was to blame for its destruction. Exhaling, he remembered the dread he felt when the lights came back on and he looked around to see that she was gone. Winter was gone.

  That’s when the silence was ripped away by a knock on the front door.

  “Tell me it’s not your mother who forgot her keys again,” Alexander said, his gaze nervously wandering around.

  “Can’t be. She’s working a night shift,” Kendrick whispered.

  “And Kass?” Will asked, something shifting in his eyes.

  “She’s at Morgan’s.”

  Will gave Kendrick a faint nod. Alexander sighed and got up to open the door that would reveal the last person on earth they wanted and expected to see.

  Hatred. Rage. It was all Kendrick could feel when he grabbed him by the collar of his branded clothes and punched him.

  “You. You fucking did this,” he yelled, infuriated.

  The blue-eyed boy took the hit. Seconds later, he had been pushed against the wall violently, the foundations of the old house creaking under the sudden duress. Avoiding a second punch, he pushed Kendrick to the ground.

  “How is it my fault? I’m not the one who took her,” Haze spat, as angry as could be.

  “If you hadn’t made that stupid deal in the first place, none of this would’ve happened.” Alexander and Will held their friend back before he trashed the house any more than he already had. It wouldn’t be easy to clean up, and they didn’t need more problems.

  “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been so careless to let her follow you to our meeting, she’d still be here right now.”

  Kendrick barely held it together. “How dare you show your face here? You never cared about Winter. Get out.”

  Haze looked down, an unreadable expression crawling in his eyes. He didn’t move, persistent.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I want to help.”

  “You want to help? Are you serious? You’re the reason she might be suffering right now.”

  Haze’s face twitched in discomfort at the thought.

  “What would you get out of it?”

  “I have my reasons” was all Haze could say.

  “You have your reasons. I’m supposed to believe that my enemy wants to help because he has his ‘reasons’?” He used his fingers to create air quotes. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Adams.”

  The West Side leader didn’t answer.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t it obvious?” Blake hissed.

  Heads turned in his direction.

  “They have a thing, you idiots.” He rolled his eyes. “They’ve been doing…” He pauses. “…whatever the hell it is they’ve been doing for a while now.”

  Kendrick’s lips parted as his hand turned back into a position it knew so well: a fist.

  “You slept with my cousin?” he raged, stepping dangerously close to Haze.

  “No, of course not. We’re… friends.”

  Blake scoffed. “Friends, my ass.”

  Haze sighed. “That’s not what I came here to talk to you about. Do you want to bring her back home or not?”

  “Don’t you dare pretend like you care about anyone but yourself,” Kendrick said, bitter. “How do I know you’re not the one who took her in the first place?”

  “I’m not. Would I be here right now offering to help if I was behind her kidnapping?”

  Kendrick growled. “Your reputation says yes.”

  “You don’t have to believe me. But trust me, you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

  Kendrick didn’t answer. Nor did he try and break Haze’s nose, which was a start.

  “I found this at the Downside.”

  Haze slid his hand into his pocket and dropped something on the kitchen table. It only took a second for the boys to recognize the crappy cell phone Winter constantly complained about. The screen was cracked and shattered in multiple spots, but, thanks to some unknown miracle, it still worked.

  “Someone’s been texting her with an unknown number.”

  The boys frowned and shook their heads in disbelief. He was lying. He had to be. Winter was an open book. She would’ve told them about it, right?

  Right?

  “It started days ago.” Haze pointed to the phone.

  Kendrick, Alexander, Blake, and William stared at it with uncertainty. A hush descended over them.

  “Go ahead, take a look.”

  Kendrick was the first one to give in to the curiosity. Quickly, text messages flew past his eyes. When he read the word “scars,” he knew instantly. He looked up at Haze. His nemesis had just saved him an considerable amount of time. Not to mention, he was the only one with a connection to the North Side. The corner of Haze’s mouth lifted into a faint smile. They needed him, whether they liked it or not.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want my help now?”

  EMPTINESS HAD NEVER SAT WELL WITH Haze Adams. He always thought that having someone tell you they hate you was better than having that someone not talk to you at all. That’s what his parents had raised him to think anyway.

  As a kid, he would’ve chosen hearing his mother tell him that he did something wrong over being ignored by her for weeks any day. It’d started when he was fourteen years old. And
it’d stuck with him ever since.

  He’d known a lot of emptiness in his life.

  But the emptiness that Winter had left was probably the worst.

  Haze wouldn’t mind Winter hating him if it meant she’d be alive to do it.

  If there was one thing he didn’t expect when he first met her, it was that he’d end up in the same car as the East Side, driving toward the North Side’s lair to find her. They’d have forever to hate each other. But right now, working together was their only chance to get her back.

  When he decided to show up to Winter’s house, he didn’t know how much Kendrick knew about them, but now, it was clear that the answer to that question was nothing. He couldn’t believe that he was coming to them instead of working alone, but he knew he needed backup and couldn’t exactly turn to the West Side. They were already suspicious that he’d lost the fight on purpose.

  “Let’s make this clear. As soon as we find her, you’re out of her life for good. You know that, right?” Kendrick spat, his eyes on the road.

  “Assuming she’s still alive when we find her, then yes, I’ll hold up my end of the deal,” Haze said as an impenetrable silence filled the car.

  He was right, and they knew it. She could be anywhere, suffering, agonizing. She could be dead by now.

  Every cell in Haze Adams’s body told him to break something, but he held on by a thread.

  “Don’t you dare say that. She’s still alive. She has to be,” Kendrick muttered.

  He wished that Kendrick was right.

  “I hope for your sake that you know what you’re doing,” Will huffed when they parked the car a couple houses away from the apartment complex Ian and his fighters hung out at.

  Haze led the way, stepping out of the car with the unshakable thought that it was too easy. It didn’t feel right.

  “Alex, you stay in the car in case we have to get out of there in a hurry. The rest of you, go look in the other apartments. I’ve got this. Text me if you find anything, and I’ll reach you if things get heated. Remember, at the first sign of complication, you jump in with the smoke bombs.” They nodded in agreement.