“When’s Mom coming home? Can I visit her?” I ask Dad, who finally came home last night. I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen him since before Mila left. Christmas came and went, and he didn’t even call.
“I’m not sure. She’s very sick.”
“What do you mean, she’s sick? Is she not in rehab?”
His brows furrow as he looks up from his phone. He can’t even talk to me without working. That’s all he does . . . work. Never has time for me. Mom always did. At least, she tried.
“She’s in rehab. But addiction is a sickness. Go get ready for school.” He waves his hand at me when his phone rings.
I stand there as he answers, greeting the person on the other end with a cheerful hello. When I don’t move, he glares at me and waves me off again, dismissing me. I storm out of the room.
Fucking asshole.
Roman has been gone for a week. Mila’s still stuck in New York, and I have school. I don’t want to go; everyone there knows about Mila and what happened. I hate the way they talk about her in the halls. When they see me, they look at me and whisper. I’ve skipped a few days, and that’s why my dad is here. To make sure I go.
“Can’t have a poor attendance record on your report,” he told me last night when he turned up here in a brand-new car.
I told him I didn’t care about school. I wasn’t going to college. He didn’t take that well and threatened to kick Roman out of the house. He’s not even here. Dad didn’t even notice that I’m here. Alone.
After grabbing my school stuff, I go out to my car. I hate my car . . . he got it for me. A gift for my birthday. The only gift he’s ever given me. I see his sleek new BMW parked beside mine. I look back to the house then to his new car. I don’t give a shit if he sees me on the security camera. Hell, I hope he watches it and see’s what I’m about to do. Taking out my house key, since it’s the sharpest one I have, I drag it down the driver’s side door.
I stand back and assess my work, letting out a small chuckle at the jagged silver line in the black paint.
“Fuck you, Dad.” I turn to the house and give him both middle fingers. I hope he loses his shit when he sees his precious car. He doesn’t care about me, but he sure as hell will give a shit about that new car.
He can’t have anything tarnishing his perfect image. Has to be the perfect boss and perfect father with the perfect son. The perfect wife.
But he’s living in denial if he thinks that will ever come true. He fucked us up by never being here. I don’t even know the man I share DNA with. My mom drank, and he was never here to notice or care. He was too busy off having affairs and not giving a shit if she knew about them. Never hiding them and threatening her with taking everything if she left him.
No, the perfect man can’t get divorced. It would look bad on him. A failure. He can’t ever fail. I clench my fists and stare at the house. I loved this house growing up. All the memories I had with my friends. My mom. But now it’s an empty shell. The only thing it holds is my father, and I want to burn it down.
I take off to school . . . Lakeview. I fucking hate it there. All my friends are at Ridgecrest. Jace, the boys on the football team. Emerson . . . hell, I haven’t seen him in weeks. Mila’s friends Cadence and Sadie. I miss them all. The only people who give a shit about me at Lakeview are Walker and Asher. And even Asher’s been avoiding me.
Hell, I would too after I let all my pent-up anger and rage spill onto his damn face. I feel so guilty, but then the guilt turns to anger, and I’m back in the same place I started.
I feel heat rising in me, my pulse speeds up, and I have to force myself to look away from the house in the rearview mirror and not turn around and set that baby alight.
“Hey, Hunter. How’s mafia girl?” Walker swings his arm over my shoulder and follows me down the hall.
I smile and shake my head at Walker’s new nickname for Mila. She’s going to love that name when she’s back home. “Still stuck, but Roman’s trying to work on something. He has this address he’s staking out, looking for her stepbrother.”
“My mom loves her. Keeps asking when she will be back. I think she’s hoping Mila will punch me.” He winks then bursts into laughter.
“What’s funny?” I don’t get it.
“Oh shit, yeah, you weren’t there.” He smiles and shakes his head, and I realize it must be some inside joke between them.
He sobers up at my expression. “If she needs money for another lawyer or bail money, just let me know. We want to help.”
I nod my thanks. “I’ll ask her. James mentioned her lawyer isn’t very good, and he wished he could afford someone with more experience and connections there.”
Walker doesn’t say anything as we walk down the hall. Everyone is looking at me. I’ve heard it all before. I’m the boyfriend of a killer. I stare them down until they look away.
I don’t know what class Walker has, but it’s not with me. He doesn’t have any classes with me, but Asher does, and it’s the one I’m headed to now.
I stop outside my classroom door, and Walker grabs my arm before I head inside. Turning, I see him tapping his chin with his index finger.
“I’m thinking . . .” he starts and pauses. His finger points at me to wait.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I quip back, and he doesn’t laugh.
“Nah, this will actually be good. Hell, why didn’t I think of this before?” Walker’s eyes are wild, and I don’t know what he’s doing as he leans in closer to me. “Alessandro,” is all he says, and he nods with a grin forming on his face.
I shake my head, not understanding. Maybe Walker’s brains are short-circuiting. Maybe that’s why Mila needs to punch him. To knock some sense into him.
“I don’t get it.”
“Mafia girl . . . she needs connections. He’s a mobster.”
Is he really suggesting I got to Alessandro and ask him a favor?
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“He likes her. He would help.”
I groan at the reminder. I swear that guy was trying to make a move on my girl at Roman’s party. If Walker noticed, then he probably was.
“Okay, so what? I go and ask him?”
He grins and nods. “Yeah, man. I would come with, but I have a thing.”
I quirk my brow. He has a thing? I haven’t even told him when I was possibly going to see this mobster.
“Getting my hair done.” He gestures to his brown mop that’s all styled up. I bet he spends a lot of time making it look like that each day. Messy but styled.
I run my hand over my head. “Maybe you should get my style. Easy maintenance.”
Walker rubs his hand over my head and laughs. “My hair is my thing . . . if I get rid of it, I don’t know how good my face will look. We can’t all be naturally handsome without hair like some.” He winks and starts backing up. “Go to him. Ask him. No harm in trying.”
That’s not true. There’s plenty potential harm from asking a mobster for help. I have no idea what he would want in return, but there’s nothing I can offer him.
As I walk into class, I search out Asher. He’s wearing the school uniform, but the shirt is all rumpled and his hair isn’t in its usual style. To be honest, he looks like shit. I didn’t make him look like that. I haven’t hit him recently; I’ve been good. I have no idea why I keep taking out my anger on the guy, but fuck. He’s not doing well.
I take a seat next to him, and he flinches away. Does he think I’m going to hit him? I already feel guilty about messing up his face. But you can’t tell now, apart from a scar along his hairline.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, because I don’t want us to fight. I want us to be good. I don’t hate him. I really don’t. I just . . . hell, I think I need to jack off more. Because when I’m around him, sometimes my cock gets confused or some shit . . . like now.
Like I’m some thirteen-year-old and I got my first boner for no reason. Okay, that didn’t happen at thirteen, but it’s basically the same thing. Only, it’s when Asher’s around, and I’m starting to take it out on the guy or some shit. Sexual frustration is what it is. I’m not into guys, but I am into watching. Like when Roman fucks Mila. God, that’s hot to watch. And thinking about that isn’t helping what’s happening in my pants.
Mila’s coming back and she’s going to be mad as hell when she finds out we have all been fighting.
Okay, that and I’ve been fighting Asher. She’s not going to be happy with me.
“It’s okay,” he replies after a beat.
I rest my head in my hands and draw in a big breath. “No, it’s not okay. I don’t know why I keep taking shit out on you. It’s not your fault, and I know that. I’m sorry.”
I need us to work together. Need someone to come with me to Alessandro. Because I can’t go alone. Jace would come with me, but Asher was there that day with Mila. He spoke to Alessandro more than I did. I was the rescue party, for someone who didn’t need rescuing. She’s the one who did the rescuing.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
The teacher starts to drone on about something, and I don’t give a shit. I tune her out.
“I need you to come with me after school. There might be a way to help Mila.”
He nods, and I settle into my chair, my mind anywhere but here.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this again,” Asher mumbles from beside me.
I clap his shoulder and squeeze gently, trying to help him calm down. Turns out, he isn’t as on board with this idea as I am. And that’s saying something, because I’m not into this idea. But what else do we have?
As I stop outside the gates of Alessandro’s community, I notice a little dark-haired girl running on the perfectly manicured lawn of one of the first houses in here. A man in a dark suit stands nearby, watching us. His hand moves to his jacket, and my heart races. I’m starting to realize that everyone in this community is part of the mob, including that little girl and her bodyguard.
“I’m here for Alessandro Amato,” I tell the guard stationed at the gate. “Names are Hunter and Asher.”
The guy eyes me, and I see his gun as he turns to pick up a phone and call the Amato house. I fucking hate this place; it scares me that I’m coming here to ask for a favor. But Walker’s right. If anyone can help, it’s Alessandro. He’ll have the connections or at least be able to point us in the right direction.
Asher’s rubbing his hands together in the passenger seat as the gates open. I reach over and stop him. As I hold his hands beneath mine, a strange feeling washes over me. My cock stirs and I hold my breath. What the fuck? I roll past the guard before glancing over at Asher, who looks a little pale.
I’m still holding his hands. He hasn’t shaken me off yet. Why not? Is he feeling this thing too? I shake my head. No, I’m just worked up, wired off half a dozen coffees. I need to jack off more. Three times a day should be enough.
“We need to show strength, okay? We can’t be showing any weakness.”
He looks to my hand and nods. “Yeah. Sorry, strength.”
After releasing his hands, I stretch out my hand, and he runs his through his hair and lets out a deep breath. I do the same as I roll up to the big house. Fuck, it’s huge. I gotta hype myself up for this shit. Like it’s game time. We’re on and we’re here to win.
“We’re good.” Asher’s dark eyes find mine, and I see the same look I gave Walker reflected in them. “He likes Mila.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I know. I hate it, but this might be the thing that brings her home.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Alessandro doesn’t give her butterflies, so I don’t think we’ll have to see him much after she comes back.”
I smile at that. The only type of butterflies she gets with him are the ones that warn you away. She told me herself. I don’t think she will be adding more boyfriends. I won’t let her. Four is more than enough for one girl, and I’m a cuddle hog.
I wonder if Asher likes to cuddle, then I quickly dismiss that thought as fast as it came to mind. I have to get my head in the game.
I haven’t been in Alessandro’s house before. Last time, I was on the outside, so walking up to his door and being greeted by a guy in a suit wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Asher doesn’t question it, so I assume that happened the last time he was here.
“Boys, visiting me so soon? Want to go another round of laser tag?” Alessandro rounds the suit and puts his hand out, and I shake it. Asher does the same. I don’t know why I’m so scared of this guy. He’s normal. Hell, he’s still in his academy shirt and tie from school.
“Nah, can’t have you back. You kicked our asses in there,” I lightly tease and he gives me a wicked grin. A shiver runs through my body, reminding me that he’s a dangerous man. I have to remember that. He’s our age, but I have a feeling he’s seen more death this year than we will ever see in our lifetimes. And we’re only a week in.
“You come alone?” he asks, looking behind us.
“Yeah, Jace isn’t here, and Roman’s in New York with Mila.”
He gestures us to come sit down. “What are they doing there? A holiday? Romantic getaway?” he asks, and I suddenly realize he has no idea what happened.
Yeah, it was on the news here for a moment. People at Ridgecrest High and Lakeview Prep seem to all know. But outside of our bubble, the story would have just been replaced by another murder or shooting on the news the following night.
Asher leans forward. “You don’t know?”
Alessandro gets twitchy, and I’m not sure Asher should have said that.
“She’s in trouble,” I say. “Her stepfather was murdered, and we think her mom and maybe her stepbrother set it up. She says her mom gave her pills for a headache, which knocked her out. She woke up to Malcolm’s dead body in the bed beside her.”
Alessandro stands, and I watch his jaw tick a few times. He’s processing the information, and I don’t know if I should stand or keep sitting. Sitting, I think, is the safe bet.
“How long ago?” he asks.
“Shit . . . has it been four weeks?” I ask Asher.
“Almost a month,” he replies.
“The fuck? You didn’t come to me back then?” Alessandro seems upset.
But fuck, how do you tell the guy that you never thought of telling him and are half shitting yourself just from being here. I don’t know what he did to Johnny and Carlos, and I never want to. So that’s why I’ve been avoiding him. But instead, I say, “Just, so much happened, and we thought she would be back by now. They did find drugs in Malcolm’s system. She said he took the same pills her mother gave her.”
He paces a few times, deep in thought. Shit, maybe Walker was right in coming here. I think Alessandro is the perfect person to come to about a crime. How did I not think of this?
He points at me, and my heart jumps into my throat.
“Why hasn’t the stepbrother or mother been arrested?”
“Because Mila was the one found with the knife and covered in his blood. And the stepbrother is missing. Roman has an address he thinks he’s at, but he hasn’t come up with anything so far. He can only be there to watch the apartment during the day.”
“Why the day?”
“He’s secretly living in the apartment with Mila and her mom. Mila’s mom won’t let her have anyone there. No visitors, and her phone’s been wired. The maid is keeping him a secret in there.”
“Roman’s phone clean?”
I shrug. I honestly don’t know.
He paces a little more, and I hope he’s coming up with some amazing plan, because we need one. “Do you know the address?”
I nod. “I was looking on Google Maps and trying to find out who owns the building, since they might know who rented the apartment. But I’m not that good. I can get the first drop of limited-edition Jordan’s, but I can’t hack into anything to save my life.” I bring up the address on my phone and show him.
He takes it and looks over at me. “We will circle back to the Jordan’s after. Can Roman get out there tonight? I’ll have someone meet him and get him a burner phone.”
I nod. I don’t care what Roman says. “He’ll be there.”
Alessandro dials a number then takes a seat. He looks over to Asher. “You want some water or juice while you’re waiting?” he asks so causally, like we’re in a business meeting.
“No, thanks,” Asher says, and I see the vein on Alessandro’s head bulge just a little. I don’t think he likes the word no.
“Yes, I could go for some water,” I say.
He smiles and waves to a guy I didn’t even see until now. Fuck, where did he come from? He nods his head and leaves the room.
“Arrow,” Alessandro calls out, and he sits forward on the white leather couch. “You still on princess duty?” he asks, then the laugh that comes out of him makes him seem so . . . normal. “Busting your balls, as always.”
“Look, I need you for a job tonight. I’ll have someone meet you there. I’m looking for a guy . . .” Alessandro snaps his fingers when I just stare at him talking to some guy named Arrow.
“Malcolm Bradshaw Junior,” Asher supplies.
And Alessandro continues talking to this guy. “I’ll send you the address, and you give me a time, and I will have one of my guys meet you there. He needs a burner.” There’s a pause. “Yeah, well, tell princess I say hello too.”
He chuckles and hangs up. Looking back at us, his expression reverts to business. It scares me a little how quick he can change. I feel like I’m getting whiplash with this guy.
“Who’s her lawyer?”
I shrug, I don’t know his name, just some lawyer who’s a dick.
“George Batten,” Asher answers. “He’s terrible and just wants Mila to confess to the murder. He works for her mom.”
My mouth drops open. Fuck. He knows so much more than I do. I didn’t even know Junior’s last name. I should have known these things. I’m glad I dragged Asher here. It’s good he’s living with James; he must be telling them so much more than he tells us.
A bottle of water appears on the coffee table in front of me, and I take it, trying to avoid looking dumb for not knowing more answers. I take a huge mouthful.
“I’m going to call in The Bull. She will be back here in a week. You should have come to me when this first happened. We wouldn’t be sitting here. Mila would have been back.”
I nod; it’s true. I should have thought of him, but I can’t take this credit for this. “It was Walker’s idea. He told me to come to you and ask for help.”
“Where is he?”
Fuck. How do I tell him that Walker is avoiding him? “He had a hair appointment and couldn’t make it.”
Alessandro bursts out laughing. “Fuck, that’s a good one.” But then he sobers. “Is he with his mom? I know she’s not doing well. I sent her flowers last week.”
He did? What’s wrong with Walker’s mom? I look to Asher, and he shakes his head slightly and motions with his eyes to the door. He will tell me after.
I stand when Alessandro does, and he shakes my hand, then Asher’s, and we’re leaving.
As soon as we’re outside the gates and driving back home, we both let out shaky breaths.
Asher sinks into the passenger seat. “That guy is intense.”
“Tell me what’s wrong with Walker’s mom.”
“She’s got cancer, and she’s not doing well. Walker doesn’t talk to me about it. But from the last time I saw her, I would say it’s bad, like terminal.”
“Shit, I didn’t know.”
My mom’s sick, in rehab, and I will get her back one day. But Walker’s mom is . . . shit, I didn’t want to think about that.
I then remembered what Walker said earlier. “Why would she want Mila to punch Walker?”
Asher’s eyes widen, and then he bursts out laughing, and I really feel out of the loop. “Trust me, if Walker told you that . . . you don’t want to know.”
I want to know more than ever now.
