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No, that doesn’t make sense. We’ve barely lived here a little over a week. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time my dad’s managed to piss someone off so quickly.
“Hadley and her sisters have nothing to do with that, so leave them alone,” Blaise warns. “No more slitting tires, no more flyers, and no more harassing our new neighbors, got it? I’m sick of taking the blame for the shit you do.”
“You don’t have to do it,” Alex mumbles.
“Yes, I do. If I didn’t, you would’ve been in juvie by now. And if you keep it up, Social Services is going to get called. And Jaxon’s still young enough to get taken away.”
“Is that why you’re so pissed off? Because I keep screwing up? Or are you pissed because I ruined your chances with Hadley?”
“I never wanted a chance with Hadley,” Blaise replies flatly. “Stop assuming shit.”
Alex snorts a laugh. “You so do. It’s why you bought her new tires and added that kiss to the stupid bet. I know you, bro. You want her. And so does Rhyland. So yeah, have fun with that.”
“That’s not true,” Blaise snaps. “Now get in the car. It’s time to go.”
Doors slam then an engine roars to life. A few heartbeats later, the air grows silent again.
I leave the garage/shed, a bit shocked at what I heard. Not just the part about my dad working for theirs, but that Blaise was behind my brand-new tires and that he didn’t slit them, nor did he put up the flyers. The gesture would’ve been nice if his brother hadn’t damaged the tires and put those flyers all over school to begin with.
Still, as I dig up the bag, I wonder if my first impression of Blaise was wrong. Perhaps he’s a decent guy, just a bit cocky and our personalities clash. A lot.
Of course, when I get the bag out of the ground and unzipped, I realize I have bigger problems than whether Blaise is really a douchebag or not.
“Shit,” I mutter as I peer into the bag that’s stuffed with a huge stash of money and a brick of what looks like cocaine.
“Dammit, Dad,” I mumble as I shine the light of my phone into the inside of the bag. “Where the hell did you get all this?”
My mind is racing, my heart pounding. My dad may have done some sketchy stuff in the past, but nothing like this. No, this is a whole new level of sketchiness for him.
“Hadley!” Londyn calls out from the side of the house. “Are you out here?”
I flip off the light and hold my breath as she shouts my name a few more times before giving up and going back inside. Then I quickly bury the bag, put the shovel away, and sneak back into the house. As I’m making a beeline for my room, I pass Payton on the stairway.
She stops when she notices the dirt on my hands. “Did you just go see what was in the bag Dad buried?”
I nod, wiping my hands off on the sides of my legs. “Yeah, it was just a bunch of alcohol bottles.”
Her forehead creases. “Why would he bury that?”
I shrug, my insides jittery. “Probably because I told him we weren’t going to spend any more money on booze.”
“He’s such an asshole,” Payton mutters then continues down the stairway.
“Yeah, he definitely is,” I mutter in return then hurry up to my room.
“Hey, where were you just barely?” Londyn asks, setting down the book she was reading when I walk in. “I couldn’t find you.”
“Digging up a bag of alcohol Dad buried in the backyard.” I flop down on my bed, avoiding eye contact with her.
“Seriously?” she asks, and I bob my head up and down. “Where the hell did he get all the money for it?”
I shrug, and then she starts to fume and rant. I listen to her, wishing I could tell her the truth, but I can’t bring myself to do so. Not with this. No, whatever reason my dad has for burying drugs and money in the backyard can’t be good, and I’d rather not have my sisters worry about it.
Still, I need to figure out why before he does something that gets us all hurt.
16
HADLEY
