Pride High (Purple #6)

CHAPTER 1

Ricky was too old to believe in wishes. And he’d never had much faith in prayers.

Yet here he was, out of options, his heart slowly breaking with each grueling minute that crawled by.

So as the sun crested the horizon, he placed his forehead on the cold glass of his bedroom window and closed his eyes, two trails of tears running down his cheeks.

“Please don’t take him from me. Not again. Please!”

He swallowed against the pain, straining to hear the sound of a finely tuned car rumbling down his street.

Birds sang to each other, oblivious to the loss he was suffering.

His eyes opened to take in a rosy sky just as joyful as cotton candy.

Another beautiful day had arrived in Pride, Kansas.

And yet, the man he loved was still missing.

“Diego,” Ricky croaked. “Where are you?”

That’s the mystery he’d been trying to solve all night.

Ever since the stupid drag race that he’d somehow known would go wrong.

Ricky had ached with the potential loss, even before they had set out for the edge of town, where Troy Mitchell and his gang awaited them.

So had many of their own friends, hope bursting into Ricky’s heart when he saw so many good people gathered there.

Surely, with all of them together, they’d be strong enough to stop something bad from happening. But no.

Diego’s car had disappeared into the night, tires squealing, engine roaring, as he tried to outpace Troy.

The cause was noble enough. The tensions between their warring factions had reached critical mass.

Anthony had been brutally attacked. Omar got punched in the nose.

Ricky had foolishly pleaded with Diego to find a way to put an end to it all, wanting his friends to be protected.

That’s what the race was meant to do—a way of settling the score without further violence.

Aside from the chance that someone might get hurt.

While waiting at the starting line, Ricky had heard the sound of a crash, he and the others bolting toward the finish line to find out what happened. And it wasn’t so bad really.

Diego was fine. His car was not. But then, Troy had wrecked his too, so nothing was lost. Not the race.

Nor a life. The contest ended in a stalemate, of sorts.

Ricky had felt relieved instead of disappointed.

Until the wail of sirens indicated the police were on their way.

He’d expected them to all flee in Cameron’s station wagon, and they did…

without Diego. That’s when the hell of not knowing began.

Ricky’s cries had fallen on deaf ears. Cameron, despite being sympathetic, remained firm. “This is what he wanted. There’s no sense in you both getting in trouble. Diego will be fine.”

That obviously wasn’t true, because he didn’t respond when Ricky paged him.

The entire night had gone by with no sign of his return.

Worse than that, the last person who saw him didn’t have good news.

Ricky had called as many of those involved as he could, limited to friends who had a private phone line, lest he wake their parents.

David was the only one who knew anything.

Or more accurately, Omar, who had eventually gotten a ride back with him when David returned to the scene of the crime.

“I didn’t see anything,” Omar had confided. “I was hiding in the woods, which I know sounds cowardly, but I wasn’t supposed to do even that. Diego told me to keep running after he loaded me up with some uh… stuff that he didn’t want the cops to find.”

“Just tell me what happened to him!” Ricky had insisted.

“Oh. I’m not sure. I heard some yelling.”

“Was it Diego?”

“Yeah. He sounded pissed. When I finally worked up the nerve to creep closer… I mean, there could have been drug dogs for all I knew. What was I supposed to do anyway? Take on a bunch of cops? I’m not Jean-Claude Van Damme.”

“Omar! What happened? What did you see?”

“Nothing. His car was still there, but the cops were gone and so was he. I’m guessing he got arrested. But hey, maybe not! Diego could have made a run for it. Sounds like something he would do.”

The suggestion was intended to be comforting.

Ricky understood that on some level, but it stung instead of soothed, because Omar was right.

Diego had run from the law before, even wanting to take Ricky with him.

He’d welcome such an offer now. Dr. Sharma wouldn’t approve.

Neither would Anthony or most of the other people in his life, but Ricky had packed a bag anyway, just in case Diego showed up wild-eyed in the middle of the night.

“We gotta skip town,” he’d growl. “Get a move on!”

Instead the dark hours had been filled with the graveyard silence of winter, reminding Ricky that Diego would have the cold to contend with as well as the police. Even if he somehow made it out to Candle Cave.

His boyfriend was either slowly freezing to death or locked behind bars.

No more waiting to find out! Ricky left his room with determination, still fully dressed.

He only hesitated when reaching the entryway, his hand on the knob.

No doubt he would open the door and find Diego parked across the street, leaning against his car with a smirk.

“Why do you look so freaked out?” he’d say. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. Maybe you need a reminder of just how big I am.”

Ricky would feel foolish and horny and… disappointed.

Because when he finally did open the door, all he saw was an empty street.

He grabbed a jacket and pulled it on. Maybe he should leave his parents a note.

Or ask for their help. But if Diego had somehow managed to get away, asking his mom to call the police wouldn’t make it easy to see each other again.

But if he showed up at the station to file a missing person report…

Yeah! That’s exactly what he’d do. Ricky would tell a selective version of the truth—that he couldn’t get ahold of his boyfriend and was worried.

If the police were already looking for Diego, or had him in custody, surely they would mention that.

He began walking toward the downtown area, traveling a few blocks before the freezing temperature began to erode his conviction.

Maybe walking to Anthony’s house to get a ride from him would be a smarter choice.

That way, if he had no luck at the police station, they could continue the search while covering more ground.

Ricky was just about to turn around when he heard the snarl of an engine ahead, his hope soaring and crashing again when he saw that it was only a motorcycle.

But there was something familiar about the hulking figure that gripped the handlebars.

Especially the brown leather jacket that was a size too small.

Ricky stopped and stared as the bike swung toward the curb.

The rider stood, left the engine running, and marched over while taking off his helmet.

Diego didn’t crack any jokes. He tossed the helmet aside so his hands were free to grab Ricky and pull him close, trapping him in a python squeeze.

“You’re okay!” Ricky managed to gasp.

Diego responded by kissing him, deeply, before letting go and taking a step back to look him over. “You all right?”

“Are you?” Ricky asked, his voice cracking around the question as all the pent-up emotion found an outlet.

“Yeah. That was a close call, but I’m all right. Cameron did what I said? He got you home safe?”

Ricky nodded, feeling small and vulnerable. “I should have stayed with you!”

“That would have screwed everything up.”

“I don’t care. I never thought I’d see you again!”

Diego didn’t chastise him for this outburst. He seemed to share the sentiment, his strong features creasing. “Same here.”

Ricky exchanged his misgivings for gratitude, because his prayers had been answered. He’d been granted a miracle.

“So what happened?”

Diego grinned. “I gave the performance of my life. You should have seen me! When the cops showed up, I got out and walked right up to them. I was ranting and raving about the asshole who ran me off the road. They didn’t know what to think.

I told them to get back in their cars and chase the fucker down.

When they accused me of being in a race, I about lost my mind.

Hell, even I believed the story I was telling! ”

“So wait,” Ricky said, shaking his head. “What about the guy in the minivan who saw you and Troy racing?”

“Him? He doesn’t know shit! I was minding my own business, on the way to my girlfriend’s house after fueling up, when this jerkwad started messing with me.

He kept slamming on his brakes, even though I wasn’t riding his ass or anything.

” Diego began pacing, like he was caught up in the memory, even though none of it was true.

“I figured he was drunk or high or something, so I tried to pass him. That’s when he boxed me in.

If I slowed down, he did too. If I sped up, he punched the gas.

I got run off the road when a minivan came toward us.

I ended up hitting a goddam tree! Does that sound like a race to you? ”

Diego spun around and put on a different voice. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you that Gomez kid? I’ve hauled you in before.”

Diego turned to face the imaginary speaker. “Damn straight! You guys didn’t waste any time asking stupid questions either, so how about you show the mystery driver the same courtesy and chase the asshole down! I need his insurance info, because I’m sure as hell not paying for this mess.”

Ricky laughed in disbelief. “And that worked?”

Diego shrugged. “Not right away. They still took me downtown for questioning, but I kept it up. All those doofy school plays I’ve been in finally paid off.”

“You’re a really good actor,” Ricky said breathlessly.

“I never believed it until now.” Diego glanced around. “Where were you heading so early?”