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My bloodshot eyes stare back at me. They’re eyes I’ve seen countless times, yet they somehow look different now. More haunted.
What exactly happened to me during those blank days following my mother’s death?
I need to figure that out. Figure out the truth. But the only person who may have the answers is the very person who put these bruises all over my face. And I have a feeling that finding my dad may not only be dangerous, but will also be very difficult. Because if there’s one thing my dad’s good at, it’s hiding from his problems.
Blaise
“You should go up there and check on her,” Rhyland says as he grabs a box of granola bars from the cupboard.
I tear my eyes off the stairway and shovel up the last spoonful of cereal into my mouth. “Go up and talk to who?” I play dumb. I don’t even know why. It’s not like we have more than one her in the house.
He rolls his eyes as he digs out a couple of granola bars from the box. “You know who I’m talking about.
“Hadley?” I question.
He rolls his eyes again. “Yes, Hadley. And don’t try to pretend you don’t want to go up there and see if she’s okay. You’ve been staring at the damn stairs for the last fifteen minutes.”
“I’m just wondering what’s taking Jaxon and Alex so long,” I lie, flipping on the faucet to rinse out my bowl.
“Sure you were.” He tears open a wrapper on a granola bar.
I sigh. “Fine, I was thinking about going up there, but only to see if she wants some painkillers or an icepack for her face.” I shut the water off and set the bowl in the sink. “She may have said it didn’t hurt, but I doubt she was telling the truth.”
“I know.” He takes a bite of the granola bar. “It looks painful as hell. Almost as bad as that time Dad…” He trails off, smashing his lips together, his worried gaze traveling to me.
“I know.” I sound like a fucking emotionless zombie, but I usually do whenever I talk about our dad or our past.
We haven’t really lived with him for years, but before he signed over guardianship to me, he’d show up at the house all the time. Not to visit his sons. No, the main reason he came over was either to fuck Rhyland and Alex’s mom when she was still around, or to hide drugs, guns, and whatever the hell else he was dabbling in at the time. He basically used the attic as his own personal storage space, despite all of our protests. We didn’t protest frequently, though, because that typical led to swollen, bruised faces and the occasional broken bone.
“I’m still worried she might have a concussion.” I redirect the subject back to Hadley because it’s better than talking about our dad. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to talk about Hadley. It just feels like I’m already worrying about her too much. And I have other stuff I need to be focusing on. Like figuring out what to do with Alex’s drug addiction.
He looked like shit today, strung out and pissed off. While he’s getting ready for school, I wouldn’t put it past him to ditch to go out to that fucking trailer again and get high.
“Is she planning on going to school?” Rhyland shoves the rest of the granola bar into his mouth then tosses the wrapper into the trash can.
“I have no idea… She probably should stay home and get some rest, but I’m not sure she should be alone right now. And since I missed school yesterday, I can’t stay home and keep an eye on her.”
His brows crinkle. “Why would you need to stay here and keep an eye on her? She’s eighteen years old man.”
I shrug. “Because of the concussion.” But that’s only the partial truth.
I’m also worried that Mel—Hadley’s father—will show up. Or worse, some of Axel’s men or my father’s will be looking for Mel, and instead, they’ll find Mel’s daughter all alone. Last night, a car was parked out in the street for quite a while. I’m not sure if it belonged to Axel or my father, but both men are equally as bad. If my theory about Mel getting busted working for both Axel and my dad is correct, then the Harlyton sisters might unknowingly be in some serious trouble.
“No, there’s more to it than that,” he accuses, eyeing me closely. “I can tell when you’re full of shit.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, you’re right, but I really don’t want to get into it until I can find out a few things.”
“Things that have to do with Hadley?”
“Yeah… Or well, her dad.”
“What has to do with my dad?” Hadley asks as she steps down the last of the stairs and enters the kitchen.
She has a backpack on, her long brown hair is swept to the side in a sexy mess of waves, and the torn jeans she’s wearing are tight enough to show off her long, lean legs. I think she’s also put on some makeup, because the bruises on her cheek and hairline are fainter.
“How’s your face feeling?” I ask as she crosses the kitchen toward me.
“I already told you earlier it didn’t hurt that bad.” She crosses her arms as she stops in front of me, close enough that I can see the blue and purple bruises underneath the makeup. “You didn’t answer my question, though. And I’m going to pretend like it was completely accidental even though I know it wasn’t.”
She’s right. I did try to change the subject on purpose but only because I want to find out for sure if my theory about her dad is correct before I have to dump that mess of worry on her.
“I was just wondering if your dad’s been in contact with my dad,” I say with a half-shrug.
“Why?” Her interrogating gaze flicks between Rhyland and me.
“So maybe we’d have an idea of where he is,” I explain. “And then we wouldn’t have to worry about him just showing up.”
“You know, I think you might be lying to me, Blaise Porterson, but that’s okay.” She pats my arm. “I’ll break it out of you eventually.”
I roll my tongue in my mouth, fighting back a smile, something I seem to have to do a lot whenever I’m around her. “Okay.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “I’m being serious.”
My smile is really threatening to break through now. “And all I said was okay.”
“But you said it with doubt.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
I tug on a strand of her hair, my smile surfacing. “I hate to break this to you, stubborn girl, but just because you say something doesn’t make it true.”
“Um, yeah, it does. And the sooner you realize that, the better.” She takes a small step back, putting a bit of space between us and tucks her hair behind her ear.
I don’t want to take it personally, but I’m fairly sure the space is to keep me from touching her. I don’t want to be bothered by that, but I annoyingly am. I’m not even sure why. I’ve never cared before whether a girl likes me or not, and it’s not like I need or have time for a girlfriend right now. But I’m attracted to Hadley; have been since the day I first saw her and she told me to go fuck myself in a very colorful way. And that attraction only seems to grow the more I’m around her and the more she puts me in my place. Yep, confidence and toughness are what apparently turns me on. Well, that and the fact that she’s sexy as hell without even trying to be.
Of course, her interest in me seems to be hovering at about a negative one hundred. That might be my own damn fault, though, for acting like an asshole the first couple of weeks we’ve known each other.
“So, are all of you guys going to school today?” Hadley changes the subject, glancing from Rhyland to me.
Rhyland nods. “As far as I know, we are. “
I raise my voice and call toward the stairway, “We definitely are, just as soon as Alex and Jaxon stop primping and get their asses down here.”
“Will you chill out!” Alex shouts back. “Looking this fine takes time.”
Hadley snickers. “He sounds like Payton.” Her smile falters.
Pity fills Rhyland’s eyes. “Have you heard from any of your sisters?”
She shakes her head. “No. I trie
d to text them last night and this morning, but so far they haven’t replied.”
“Depending on who their caseworker is, they may have gotten their phones taken away,” I tell her apologetically. “To make sure your dad can’t get ahold of them.”
“Yeah, I figured that might be what’s going on.” She shifts her weight and scratches at her wrist, seeming uneasy. “You wouldn’t by chance know a way to get ahold of them, would you? Or maybe a way to find out if they’re going to the same school? I mean, if you don’t, it’s cool, but I thought I’d ask.” She examines her fingernails, pretending to be chill.
But I think she’s far from it.
“I actually do know someone who used to work for Social Services,” I say. “If you want, I can call her up and see if she can get some info about where they were taken.”
She casually nods, but relief washes over her features. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
“Give me just a second and I’ll call her.” I start toward the living room, retrieving my phone from my pocket.
“Wait. What’s the favor I’m supposed to be doing this morning?” she asks before I exit the room.
I dismiss her with a wave. “How about we skip today?”
Her eyes flash with irritation. “No way, dude. You’re not going to give me a pity skip.”
I rub my hand across my mouth to conceal my smile. Rhyland lets his grin slip through, though, and it irks me a bit, even though Hadley isn’t mine and he has every right to smile at her.
“Okay, give me a minute and I’ll think of something.” I turn to leave the room.
“And don’t you dare make it an easy favor,” she calls out. “I mean it.”
That damn smile I’ve been holding back all morning slips through. It’s been a while since I’ve smiled for real, either because I’m too stressed out to remember to or because the heaviness of the stress makes the simple act of turning my lips upright feel like the hardest thing to do in the world. I have to give Hadley some serious credit for getting me to smile. Hopefully, I can return the favor when I call up the lady who used to oversee mine and my brother’s cases during the times Social Services stepped in and dragged us out of our shitty home life. She’s retired now, but she might be able to help us out. At least, I hope so.
As I step into the living room to make the call, I’m reminded of another problem I need to deal with.
The damn car with the tinted windows is back, parked outside in the driveway of her house.
Hadley
“You should’ve just taken the freebie and not do a favor for Blaise today,” Rhyland remarks after Blaise leaves the kitchen. “Most people would’ve.”
“Most people don’t mind getting favors,” I say, adjusting the handle of my bag. “But in my experience, when someone does you a favor, it usually means they want a favor in return, so it wouldn’t even be a freebie because I’ll owe him.”
“Yeah, I get your point, I guess.” He tears open a granola bar and takes a bite. “But sometimes people do favors just to be nice and don’t expect anything in return.”
“And you can honestly say that’s what your brother was doing?”
