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I shrug. “Sure. If you promise not to be a murderer.”
“Alright,” he says with a smile.
He places the car in reverse and backs out of the parking lot of the hardware store. He said I could pick up my car later, and he would drive me home. I didn’t want my brother stopping by and finding my car there, knowing I left with someone else in their car. It’s Friday night. I’m sure he’s out doing something, or maybe not. With one of the guys found murdered, I’m sure they are on lockdown anyway. Which means so are Zack and his stupid friends.
“I have plenty of room. Mrs. Mallory will stop by in the morning. She always drops in on Saturdays to clean and make me breakfast,” he rambles on nervously.
I don’t think Azriel has many people coming over to his house.
“Who is Mrs. Mallory?”
He scratches his brow and keeps one hand on the steering wheel. “She takes care of the house. She’s kind of like a mom slash grandma. You’ll really like her.”
“You live alone?”
He nods. “Most of the time.”
He presses the music app onto the screen. Three Days Grace’s“Never Too Late”begins to play.
We drive past Kenyan and notice an uptick in campus security in an upscale neighborhood behind the university. It’s secluded and dark.
He makes a right, then a left, and drives down a dark road to a large metal gate. No houses are on either side, hidden behind thick greenery, ancient trees, and sprawling branches. There are two black lampposts on each side of the large pillars. He pushes one of the three buttons on the visor. The gate swings open, and he drives through the winding path leading to a large modern home.
“Wow,” I whisper in awe.
The house is gorgeous. Well-lit with white walls and black windows. Clear-encased light fixtures separate all six garage spaces.
“You live here?”
“Yep. I told you I had a lot of space.”
“How…”
But I stop myself. It’s none of my business. I think Mr. Crosby said his father owns the hardware store, but I have never seen him. Maybe he left the business to Azriel. It’s not far-fetched. Azriel is what? Twenty-one. His parents must have had money or something. Everyone born in Kenya has money. They have history.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a drug dealer or anything. I swear. You can check.”
I grin. “I believe you, Azriel. I never expected this. You have a nice home.”
He smiles at the compliment. “You should check out the inside. I have a pool. You can jump in if you want. It’s heated.” He gets out.
I don’t think Azriel hangs out with people all that much. He keeps to himself, and maybe he is better off with people who love him. Veronica has had her share of assholes with the life she has lived, and she has lived here all her life. I don’t know all the details about her husband or exactly what went down, and Adam doesn’t tell me much.
All I know is that she had it rough before she married her husband, Alaric. I kept in touch until the night when my life turned upside down, and I changed. It’s like I stood in the middle of a blackout when the light turned back on, and everything shifted focus. My perception is different.
I stopped calling. I got a new phone. I moved out of my parents’ house. Everything happened so fast in the past seven months. I can’t believe I’m here and not in my room planning how I’m not going to tell my parents I’m going out to a party to find a cute boy I want to fuck.
He opens the door with his phone and lets me walk in first before he closes the door behind me. I’m greeted with whitewashed hardwood floors, nude-colored walls, and modern furniture. The red-lit pool is clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The house smells like vanilla and cedarwood. It’s clean and comfortable. It's probably the nicest house I’ve ever been in.
I like that it’s hidden. It's like a celebrity lives here. Safe and sophisticated. It looks like nothing Azriel would pick out for a home.
When I glance at him, I see his innocence, but I can tell there is also fearlessness about how he does things. The way he stood up for me against Zack and the guys. He held my hand when he knew I needed it at the table in front of my brother. He didn’t hesitate. The way he talked to Zack. It showed me he cared. It showed me he was my friend, and I shouldn’t be afraid.
“Azriel?” I call out.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t see where he went. The lights turn on, eliminating the darkness in the huge kitchen with white marble countertops and white wood cabinets.
He opens the fridge. “Yeah,” he says, reaching inside.
