4. Chasing You
4
Chasing You
HAZE
My phone rings a few times
Then, Kendrick’s stupid voicemail comes on. That’s all I’ve been hearing for the past month. None of the guys are picking up, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because they’re busy. I glance at the empty apartment and breathe out a bitter sigh. It’s the third I’ve seen this week. It needs some work, but it’ll do. It shouldn’t be too long until Trev gets sick of me eating his food and kicks me out. I really need this place.
The apartment lady asked me why I needed to move so quickly. I really wanted to tell her, “Well, long story short, my brother, who’s also my roommate, locked me in a basement and tried to kill me,” just to see her face, but I’m guessing this wouldn’t be a winning tactic.
I glance down at the messages I’ve sent Winter. She would’ve answered by now. I’ve tried calling her too, but it doesn’t even reach the voicemail.
My guess is either my number’s blocked on her phone or she doesn’t have a phone anymore. But blocked by who? Did she do it? Not knowing is driving me insane.
Weeks of silence and I still can’t stop thinking about her. This girl who, for all I know, could be on another continent right now. It’s been one freaking month. It should be getting better. Why isn’t it getting better? Why can’t I stop obsessing about where she is and if she’s okay?
My guys are even more suspicious than before, and the frown that’s plastered on my face twenty-four seven isn’t helping. I’m sloppy in fights. I’m not down for anything other than sleeping. Going over to Bianca’s last month felt so wrong. It made me realize that maybe… I don’t want this life anymore.
Speaking of Bianca, she’s been texting me nonstop, asking me about what happened when I showed up to her house. I haven’t texted her back once, but she can’t take a hint.
“Thank you for waiting.” The Realtor walks back into the room after taking a forty-five-years-long phone call. I don’t have all day, but she obviously doesn’t care.
“Have you made up your mind?” she asks.
I glance at our conversation on my phone and reread the last few messages Winter sent me before this madness started.
Yes, I’ve made up my mind. I lost the fight. I lost her. But I don’t care about the deal. I’m chasing that girl… again.
I look down at the lady and nod.
“I’ll take it.”
Winter
I need to have a chat with whoever said that time heals all. That’s the conclusion I came to while lying awake in Tom’s guest bedroom at three in the morning last night.
You’d think I’d be used to this reality by now. After all, it’s been a month. Well, five and a half weeks to be exact, but I’m not sure that’s enough time for the famous quote to be effective.
It feels like I’ve been locked inside the IKEA penthouse for years. Kendrick spends every day playing video games while I read or watch Friends . That’s all I do: read, watch my favorite shows, think about Mr. I-Say-I-Love-You-and-Go-to-Another-Girl-the-Next-Day , take online classes, and eat.
It’d be slightly better if I could explore the city, but my leg disagrees. Not to mention, we’re supposed to be undercover, and “going out to play tourist” doesn’t come close to fitting the word’s description. Although, that doesn’t seem to stop the boys from going out to get food every chance they get.
I lie awake in the oversized bed that’s become my best friend in the past few weeks. Distant voices fill my ears. Today is Saturday, and Will and Alex are back for the weekend. I listen to their conversation until the front door is shut closed. I assume they went out to get Chinese; it’s almost lunchtime.
I push the heavy cover off me and yawn. The only things I did today were go to the bathroom and shower, which, by the way, isn’t a piece of cake with this injury. Bright side is, my fracture has really improved since we got here. Only a week and a half before I can walk again. I’m even kind of good with my crutches now. And by good, I mean that I no longer fall on my ass every time I use them.
I get dressed and stare at the empty closet in the corner of the white bedroom. I can’t bring myself to unpack. Part of me fears that unpacking would be like accepting that this is where I’m going to be spending the last of my senior year, and I’m not quite ready for that.
So, for now, I keep my suitcase open next to my bed and pick what I need in the morning.
Oh, and needless to say, I was right. Kendrick didn’t do color matching and picked around two flattering outfits in my closet back at Maria’s. The majority of the clothes he brought scream “single with twenty-four cats.”
“There she is,” Kendrick says when I enter the room. “Slept well?”
“Maybe if I’d slept at all.” I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Where are the boys?”
“Went out to get food. Where else?” He shrugs, turning on the TV.
I nod and hop to the fridge—since hopping on one foot and holding on to furniture are now my main ways of transportation—and pour myself a glass of juice. I’m about to take a sip when a knock on the door reverberates throughout the penthouse. I turn my head to see Kendrick just as confused as I am.
“Must be the guys. They probably forgot something.” He gets up and goes to check through the peephole.
The way his face collapses when he peeks inside tells me he was wrong.
It’s not the guys.
“Who is it?” I ask.
I can practically hear the million thoughts racing in his head from where I am.
“How the fuck did he find us? You told him, didn’t you?”
“What? Who?”
“You know who.”
No.
No way.
Haze?
“He’s… he’s here?”
Kendrick nods, panic written all over his face.
Haze is here.
On the other side of the door… is the guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month.
“We have to leave. Now!” Kendrick starts running around like a headless chicken in a miserable attempt to gather all of our belongings.
“Are you serious right now? He’s right here. You can’t stop me from seeing him for the rest of my life. What are we going to do? Escape out the window?”
“We will if that’s what it takes,” Kendrick says.
“You do know I can hear you, right?”
Kendrick jumps at Haze’s voice and stares at the door.
Oops.
Well, we do now.
What is he doing here? He can’t be here. He lost the fight. He should be miles away.
“I just want a minute,” Haze pleads.
“We had a deal, Adams,” Kendrick says, his voiced raised, and heads for my room to get my things. Again, how he plans for us to escape without using the door, I have no idea.
“I know, I know. Listen…” Haze pauses, his voice raspy. “I want to make another deal.”
“Not an option.”
“Kendrick, you know damn well I can pick the lock if I want to. I’m not here to start shit. I just want to talk to her.”
That’s why he’s here.
He came for me.
That came out wrong.
This finally seems to be enough for Kendrick to admit defeat. He knows Haze is right. He’ll find a way in. It’s just a matter of time. He takes a very hesitant step toward the door and slowly unlocks it. I can’t help but hold my breath.
There he is.
In the doorway…
With his hands deep in his pockets, his tousled brown hair a perfect mess, and the bags under his eyes displaying his lack of sleep. Even in this state, he manages to look like the guy up there dropped the whole “hotness” package into the mix while creating him.
That’s it. I can’t lie to myself anymore. The past month changed nothing.
I still have feelings for an idiot.
“I tried to keep my word. I did.”
He turns his head, and our eyes meet for the first time since the night I blacked out in his arms.
“But I can’t.”
A billion unwelcomed emotions infiltrate my heart.
“How the hell did you find us?” Kendrick asks.
“Gee, I don’t know. Staying undercover 101: buy a burner, pay in cash, and maybe don’t spend all your time out in public. It took me fifteen minutes to track you idiots.” He stops and assesses the living room. “Whose place is this anyway?”
“Don’t change the subject. What are you doing here? What do you want?”
“What part of ‘it took me fifteen minutes to find you’ didn’t register? She’s obviously not safe with you. Do you have any idea how many people want her head? She’s coming with me.”
“Like hell she is! You can’t seriously think it’s going to be that easy, do you? If so, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
Haze steps inside the apartment, a smirk settling upon his lips. He looks unbothered by Kendrick’s statement, his gaze locking with mine again as he lifts an eyebrow. I know he’s going to do something just by the cockiness radiating off him.
“If you’re making me choose between not breaking the stupid deal or keeping her alive, I know exactly what my choice is.”
I’m so conflicted. On one hand, I can’t ignore the butterflies literally destroying my stomach, but on the other, I also hate him in more ways than one. He’s here. He went through all this trouble to find us. Yet, he went to Bianca not even a day after I left. His mouth says that he cares…
But his dick said otherwise.
Haze continues. “So yeah, you’re right. I didn’t think it would be that easy.”
He glances at me. I know that look.
“Which is why I have to do this.”
I let out a gasp when Haze sends Kendrick flying with one strong and precise punch. My cousin drops unconscious, collapsing on the couch right behind him. It’s like he calculated it all. Like he knew Kendrick wouldn’t hit the ground.
That’s kind of nice of him.
Winter, stop finding a bright side to every shitty thing this guy does.
As senseless as this may sound, at first, I wonder why he doesn’t do this trick on all his opponents during the fights, but then I come to the simple conclusion that this probably would suck the fun right out of the street fighter experience. You’d assume the whole point is to win the old-fashioned way.
“Why the hell did you do that?” Panic consumes me as I kneel down next to my cousin.
“Oh, relax. He’ll wake up in a little while and still be a self-righteous imbecile.” His eyes wander around the room. “Where are your things? We need to get going.”
It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. Kendrick brought my luggage in when he was planning a realistic out-the-window escape.
“Wow. You’ve got some nerves. You can’t just casually ask me that after you knocked out my cous—”
He takes a step forward. “Hold that thought.”
Next thing I know, he’s out the front door, but this time, he’s walking out with something he didn’t have walking in: me. He threw me over his shoulder so quickly I couldn’t even put up a fight. With one hand carrying my stuff and the other supporting me, he walks around like I’m weightless. And I know I’m not. I’m pregnant with Chinese food. The boys spent the last month making sure of that.
He enters the elevator leading to the underground parking where I’m sure his car is waiting for us. I can’t help but wonder what he’ll say to the other residents of the building if they use the elevator at the same time and see him carrying me out.
“Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later.” I can picture him grinning as I wiggle around for freedom. I quickly give up. It’s no use. He’s stronger than me, and I only have one leg available.
Then, as the doors slowly close, he hits me with a sentence that brings back a thousand memories.
“I told you I wasn’t done annoying you yet, Kingston.”