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I pulled in a deep breath as I switched the engine off, my gaze veering to the window I knew was Lola’s bedroom. All that greeted me was an open blind. If luck was on my side, she’d already be at college or work.
Fuck.
She’d been under my nose that entire time, working and attending school only a few minutes away from where I lived. How the hell had that happened?
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I closed my eyes and zoned in. I was Brody, a member of Hut’s crew, not Brody, the cheater and liar that I’d become.
Each step to the front door felt heavier than the last, and by the time I was pushing said door open, my nerves were haywire. This could be the end. I could be walking into a house full of enemies.
“Brody!” Hut shouted, bouncing out of the kitchen and toward me in the living room. His lips were spread into such a huge grin I was sure it would break his face. As he came closer, I saw how shot his pupils were, and then it all made sense. Of course, he was high before lunchtime.
“Hut.”
He threw his hand at me, doing his stupid “crew handshake” and I gritted my teeth. He was a grown-ass man with his own secret handshake. How sadder could you get?
He pulled away and turned around, heading back into the kitchen where Ford and Quinn were bagging up white powder.
“How was the funeral?”
“It was okay.” I shrugged and leaned on the counter nearest the coffeepot. “Funeral is a funeral, you know?”
“Nah.” Hut shook his head, sitting at the small table, not fully focusing on anything around him. “Never been to a funeral. Don’t see the point. They’re dead, ain’t like they know what’s happenin'.”
I gripped the counter behind me, trying to keep my hands under control. It didn’t matter if they knew or not—it was about respecting the person who had died. I hadn’t attended a funeral, but his disrespect was clear. But then, I didn’t think he knew the meaning of respect. He hadn’t gotten to where he was right now by following all the rules, silent or written.
Ford nodded at me at the same time Quinn waved his hand in the air, and I noticed Jace was missing. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask where he was, but then I reminded myself I’d just walked in the door. I needed to ease back into things, make them forget I was gone in the first place.
“We’re heading over to Carson’s place tonight,” Hut said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m gonna crash until we need to go.” He stood and stumbled his way out of the kitchen, his footsteps banging on the stairs, and then a door slammed.
“Jesus.” Quinn ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t think he’s been sober since you left, Brody.”
“He hasn’t?” I raised a brow, looking at the empty space he’d just been sitting in.
“Nah.” Ford threw another baggie into a pile. “And Jace is AWOL—ain’t got any idea where he is.”
I pushed up off the counter, frowning. Had Hut gotten rid of him too? “Maybe he’s recovering after the beating he took.” I hoped I sounded carefree, but I had a feeling I didn’t.
“His girlfriend doesn’t know where he is,” Ford continued and turned to face me. “For all we know he’s lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“And Hut knows he’s missing?”
Quinn rolled his eyes and blew out a breath. “He said he don’t give a shit.” Quinn glanced at Ford and then back to me. “But if he talks, then Hut’s fucked.”
I nodded, knowing Jace hadn’t talked to anyone, because if he had, I would have been one of the first to know.
“We’re gonna go and see if we can find him,” Ford announced, throwing a last baggie on the pile and standing to clear everything away. “Hut will be out for at least eight hours, so we have time.”
Quinn helped clear the things away into a box and hefted it into his arms so he could put it beneath the floorboard under the table.
“Wanna join us?” Quinn asked. “Three people are better than two.”
“Yeah, sure.” I stepped forward, already clutching the keys in my hand when light footsteps bounded above us. My heart rate picked up, my palms starting to sweat.
“I’ll take the south side. Quinn, you take the east, and Brody can take the west.” Ford moved over to the sink, but I could only just hear him over the whooshing in my ears. “We can meet in the north side in a couple hours.”
“Okay—”
It was the only word I managed to get out before Lola stepped into the kitchen. She was staring down at something in her bag, a frown on her face that I craved to smooth out. I urged her silently to look up, to stare into my eyes and show me what she was feeling, but she didn’t. She just stood there, rifling through her bag like it held all the answers.
