Cigarette in hand, I stand outside the window of the coffee shop where Hailey and I are taking a break after a frenzied stationery-shopping spree.
She bought more supplies than necessary for journaling, including forty-eight colorful fineliners which are now haphazardly scattered over the table. Leaning over the notebook, she’s pouring her thoughts over the lined pages.
Loose, blonde strands of hair fall across her face, not for the first time. I’ve already caught myself twice, reaching out to curl those strands over her ear. An involuntary reflex. One that never hit me until today.
In my lousy defense, not being able to see her face even though she was sitting across from me was fucking infuriating. She’s fascinating to watch. I’m learning everything there is to know about her facial expressions. By now, I could probably write a thesis about the disparities between her confused and annoyed frowns.
The dim, intimate lighting casts a soft halo over her head. She’s so engrossed in the task at hand she didn’t notice me leave when Rhett called.
It’s quite insulting, but I let it slide, watching her scribble away, chewing the tip of her pen whenever she can’t streamline her thoughts fast enough.
“So you’ve got shit all,” Rhett barks, not happy about the little progress I’ve made. “You were supposed to break her the minute she got there.”
Like that wouldn’t be suspicious.
“Didn’t you say I should play this smart? What if I do all the don’ts and they fail? How the fuck would you expect me to earn her trust afterwards?”
He makes a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat, one that tells me he’s not happy I’m right.
I’m not either.
Hailey doesn’t deserve mercy and Aalyiah deserves revenge.
“She started to remember as soon as I got a chance to start the don’ts,” I continue, filling my lungs with smoke.
It’s true. The moment I saw her sitting alone on the dark boat platform, an array of enticing scenes of me torturing this girl until she breaks filtered through my mind. All I had to do was play my cards right, wait a few minutes to make sure no one followed her and then…
And then she threw me way off, implying my dick’s small.
Cheeky little thing.
Before I got my head back in the game, she had that fucking flashback, her memories saving her at the last moment.
“It’s safer to find out what she knows, Rhett. You can’t be sure Alex told her anything but if he did, if she knows where he hid the evidence, we’re better off destroying it than waiting for someone else to stumble upon the files.”
Another unhappy noise. “Fine. Do it your way but speed it up. Once you know where the evidence is, make her suffer.”
“Killing her isn’t the way to go. Vaughn will know it was you,” I cut in, feeling a badass headache take root.
Rhett’s not easy to deal with. He has a plan in his head, but doesn’t let you in on it, only telling you what he thinks you need, then changing his mind more often than the clip in his gun, and that’s often.
“You’re clever, Carter. Creative. I’m sure you’ll find a way to stage an accident. Hailey’s the reason your sister is dead, son. She killed Aalyiah and I want her to suffer, you got that?”
Another thing I’ve had ample time to mull over and… did she? Did Hailey kill Aalyiah?
No.
My sister took her own life. I get what Rhett’s saying. I follow his train of thought. Hailey’s guilty by association and until I met her, I was more than happy to lay the blame equally between Alex and his side babe.
Now, the doubt creeps in. The flashback I witnessed, the fear in Hailey’s eyes when she remembered Alex’s hands on her neck… it doesn’t make sense. There are more layers to this story than Rhett could anticipate.
More questions than he can answer.
My perception of Hailey was wrong from the start, but… I crack my neck, pushing the buts aside. There are no fucking buts.
Aalyiah’s dead.
Hailey’s the reason why.
And I need payback.
“Got it,” I tell Rhett. “Accidents happen.” Butting the cigarette out on the pavement, I turn my back on Hailey. “I need to go. I’ll be in touch if anything comes up.”
“Good. Keep Dante in the loop. It was his condition when I asked to borrow you.”
He cuts the call while I nod, perfectly aware he can’t see it. My duty to Rhett comes from a blood bond, but the one to Dante is more important. I wouldn’t go behind his back no matter how Rhett felt.
Dante already knows more about my activities than my father. It will stay this way because there’s only one of them I trust with my life, and it’s not my father.
Shoving the phone in my back pocket, I enter the café, heading to the table where Hailey’s still furiously writing, most of her fineliners now capless, a pink dot staining her pouty mouth. She must’ve bitten the wrong end.
Her coffee sits untouched and cold, so I hail a waitress to order another latte, double espresso and two slices of apple pie.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Hailey says, eyes on the page, purple fineliner hovering half an inch above. “You stink.”
So she did notice I was gone. That’s… whatever.
“You on the other hand smell divine. There’s balance.”
Her soft lips twitch into a smile she desperately tries to bite back. “Why are you staring?”
“No better view in sight.” I lean back, offering her a false sense of privacy. “What are you writing about?”
She finally drags those blues up, her long ponytail swinging to her back as she straightens, moving both arms to cover the two-page spread.
“You already know I can’t remember the last two years, and you know my memories are coming back.”
She weighs every word, though I doubt it’s for my benefit. She’s making a list of pros and cons, wondering whether it’s safe to tell me.
She pulls her ponytail to the front, twisting it around her neck as she speaks. I’ve seen her do this enough that I think it’s nonconscious. She’s wired to hide her scars, bruises, and scratches. Either she’s self-conscious, or she’s done this so much it’s become second nature.
My hands ball into fists at the thought of someone making her feel less because of her imperfections. And then my mind flashes fucking red at the thought of someone hurting her.
Fuck. It’s been four days. Three interactions, and she’s already getting under my skin in the worst way.
I feel… protective.
Where’s that coming from?
I should be dying to wrap my hands around the porcelain column of this girl’s throat to squeeze the life out of her, not whoever hurt her.
I should want to kill her but… she looks so fragile I can’t even entertain the thought. She’s a civilian, caught in this game by her own stupid choices. Choices that led to my sister’s coffin being lowered six feet underground.
Liquid steel burns my veins, annihilating the pathetic protective streak. Hailey deserves pain. It’s her own goddamn fault she’s here.
My fingers cinch the coffee mug, squeezing hard as I lift it to my lips, letting the bittersweet aroma smooth my agitated mind. I’ve never been this confused, this torn.
“My dad thinks it might be helpful to write my flashbacks down so I can refer back to them if I get any more,” she continues, oblivious to the battle raging inside me.
“How many so far?”
She bites the inside of her cheek, eyes drilling into mine. It’s clear she doesn’t trust me one bit but… she wants to.
Bad choice.
“Only two.”
“Two? You already filled ten pages.”
Her cheeks flush pink and the blush spreads lower, down her scarf-covered neck, and lower still to disappear under the neckline of her delicate, knitted sweater.
My imagination breaks off the leash, painting a vivid picture of what I can’t see and… fuck. It’s distracting.
She’s distracting.
With a sigh, she moves her arms, turning the notepad my way and quickly flicks through the colorful pages.
“Everything in black is memories as I saw them play out in my head. Questions they prompt are in red, other questions in yellow, possible answers in orange. Purple is for things that changed about… about me in the past two years.”
She turns the pages too fast, but I catch a few questions scattered across the margins.
Who was driving?
Where is Alex?
Why did we move to Ohio?
“Pink is for things that don’t make sense,” she continues, still flicking back and forth. “I can’t explain them in any rational way like—” She stops abruptly, eyes widening.
“Like…?”
She claps the notebook closed, tucking it deep into her purse, a resigned sigh escaping her lips. “Like why instead of black jeans and baggy t-shirts I have cute dresses, skirts, and silk scarves.” She points at her neck, smoothly changing the subject.
That’s not what she was about to say. She pivoted, not trusting me enough to share anything important.
“So your style changed?” I ask, playing her game.
Poking and prodding will only strengthen the defenses I need to work on dismantling as soon as possible so she’ll trust me enough to share her memories.
She nods, accepting the fresh coffee from the waitress, her eyes sparkling when a slice of apple pie lands beside it.
Yes, pretty girl, I pay attention.
“I don’t like this style,” she mutters, tugging the deep neckline of her dusty-pink sweater.
Now that she mentioned it, it does seem odd, trying to cover her skin with scarves and flimsy cardigans. I’d expect her to cover up completely. Especially since she’s obviously not comfortable showing this much skin.
“I haven’t seen you wearing a baggy t-shirt, so I can’t compare but I assume that fine ass of yours looks as good in jeans as it does in skirts.”
She smiles, catching the teasing hint in my tone. It’s fake. I’m not joking. Her ass is damn near perfect, but Hailey’s guarded so the flirting must be subtle.
Her lips part, a clever retort at the ready, I bet, but my phone rings again, cutting our conversation short.
“I need to take this,” I say, glancing at the screen.
With a nod, she reaches into her purse, retrieving the notebook as I exit the café, phone to my ear.
“Check your email,” Dante says as soon as I answer.
I deftly poke about my jacket pockets, searching for cigarettes and a lighter but Hailey’s you stink fills my head, stopping me before I find the pack.
“What did Jackson find?” I lean my shoulder against the window, watching Hailey write something she can’t rationally explain with a pink fineliner.
“He’s still digging, but he got you the call log and text messages from Alex’s phone. Your sister’s the only contact.”
“Which means he had at least two phones.”
“Jackson’s on it. No luck yet. How’s college?”
“As you’d expect. Wild.”
A humorless chuckle rings in my ear. “Any progress with the girl?”
I glance at Hailey, who’s switched to a purple fineliner: things that changed about her. She stares at the page with a frown, blowing at the steaming coffee.
“She’s starting to remember. Nothing important yet.”
“The Devil hides in the details. Don’t dismiss any information no matter how irrelevant it seems at first glance.”
“You’re getting poetic with age, Boss.”
“Maybe I am. That philosophical mind of Layla’s is rubbing off on me lately. She told me to say hi.”
“Right back at her. I’ll be in touch soon. Keep me posted on whatever Jackson digs up.”
“I will.” He cuts the call.
Hailey’s in the zone, scribbling furiously, so I give her a few more moments and call Broadway, checking how he’s doing in my absence. Once that’s over, I head inside, my temper leaping to attention when Hailey shuts the notebook as soon as she hears me approach.
I’m learning things about myself, like the fact my patience is not the virtue I thought it was. I’m beyond curious why she’s so protective of her words. She can’t hide her memories from me no matter how hard she tries. I’ll break into her dorm room and, once I’m in, her secrets are mine.
Twenty minutes later, we’re in my car, the ride back to campus mostly silent. The hum of the engine soundtracks our racing thoughts. Hailey worries her lip and I already know it means she’s deep inside her head.
And I… I’m itching to grab my laptop and read through every text between my sister and Alex.
Hailey stares out the window, her fingers gently tapping the notepad like she can’t wait to get writing again. It’s close to four in the afternoon when we make it back to Lakeside, the grounds dotted with students socializing in the afternoon sun.
“Thank you,” Hailey says as we walk across the campus. “Can I ask for another ride when I fill this?” She hugs the notebook to her chest with a content smile. “I didn’t realize how much I want to write.”
“Anytime.” I push the big, wooden door to the girls’ dorm building wide open, sensing the perfect opportunity to find out where her room is. “I’ll walk you up.”
“It’s okay. I know my way.”
Obviously… but I don’t.
“Smarter,” I emphasize. “You almost took a dive in the lake last night. You think walking the stairs alone is smart? What if you have a flashback halfway up and fall?”
She parts her lips, but no words come. Clever little thing.
She knows I’m right. I bet she’s been thinking the same thing since last night and that’s why she’s not brushing me off. With a tight nod, she starts climbing and I’m three steps behind… the alluring sway of her hips in my fucking face.
I’m transfixed by the swing of her skirt and her soft thighs as we navigate the winding corridors. It’s a maze in here, the way to her room not as straightforward as the route to mine.
Left, right, left and left, then another staircase.
“Okay…” She glances over her shoulder as we reach the top, her eyes sparkling, my cock half hard. “Any chance you get, huh? Well played, but…” She spins, walking backward down the hall. “That’s enough for one day.”
“Not had my fill yet.” The words are out faster than my brain can process them. “Turn around, Hailey.”
I close in on her, rational thought fleeing my mind as primal lust takes the reins. I shouldn’t want to bend her over and fuck her senseless. I shouldn’t be imagining what her skin tastes like, but the erotic images infecting my mind are uncontainable.
And then, as fast as they popped up, they disappear when a petite brunette appears from one of the rooms down the hall.
She reminds me of Aalyiah.
Short, cute, and pretty, with dark hair cascading down her back. I stop in my tracks, taking a deep, centering breath.
There’s plenty of perfectly good pussy on campus. No need to betray my sister’s memory by fucking the one responsible for her death…
“Goodnight, Hailey.”
Not waiting for any reply, I spin, heading out the way we came, and burst outside thirty seconds later, shaking off the last three minutes like they never happened.
