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“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?”
“I can’t tell.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?” Haze struggled to keep a stern face.
Ian leaned back in his seat, frowning.
“You know, Haze… if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say that you seem to care a hell of a lot about that girl.”
Haze stiffened. “I don’t. Just wondering who I have to thank for destroying my enemies, that’s all. I thought we had an alliance.” He got up. “I’ll go tell the others I was wrong.”
He turned away, heading for the door.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Wait,” Ian called.
Haze smirked. Predictable. Having the West Side as an enemy was something no one wanted.
“Haze, man, chill, no need to get angry,” Ian faltered.
“I came here looking for answers that you refuse to give me. I’m afraid that’s not what an ally would do.”
“I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“Don’t bother. I think I’ll go ask Vicky. Maybe she knows more than you do.”
The second Vicky’s name was announced, the conversations going on around them ended abruptly. Ian clenched his fists, his fighters glaring at Haze hatefully. It was well known in the street fight world that falling in love made you weak, but it didn’t stop the fighters from wanting someone to come home to.
It was human nature at its best.
“She’s got nothing to do with this. Leave her out of this.”
“Neither did Winter, and she still got taken. Looks like there’s no such thing as justice, you see?”
“The girl’s probably already dead. Do yourself a favor, man. Move on.”
Haze laughed. “Is that what you do if it were Vicky?”
Ian went from annoyed to pissed.
“I’ve got backup—a lot of backup. You’re going to tell me where you keep her, or I’m blowing this place up.”
Ian reached for his pocket.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I see one of you pull out a gun and we’re all dead.”
Ian narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?”
“That would kill you, too.”
Ian’s words sneaked into Haze’s thoughts.
