11. Busted
11
Busted
WINTER
Sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, I fiddle with the wrinkled piece of paper in my hands. Haze is still asleep. He looks so peaceful, worriless—basically everything that I’m not right now. I spent the entire night tossing and turning, haunted by questions I couldn’t answer, the main one being why on earth is there a motel address in my boyfriend’s pocket?
No words can explain the dread I felt when I typed the address into the internet search bar and landed on the creepiest motel I’ve ever seen. Holland Motel , named after the street it was built on—because that’s original.
The old exterior is something, but the inside could give a grown man nightmares. Everything about the place felt off. I wager this is a first-choice spot for all sorts of shady business: drug deals, money laundering… scandalous sex?
Stop, Haze would never do that , I try to convince myself.
Then what the hell is he doing with the address ? the devil on my shoulder laughs.
I wince at the thought of him kissing some other girl in there. Undressing her. Holding her. Making her…
Snap out of it!
“Morning, gorgeous.”
I jump.
He laughs quietly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I don’t move a muscle. I can’t even look at him, infuriating images still holding my mind hostage.
Winter, you’re literally making yourself mad with scenarios you made up in your head.
“Baby?” he says in a husky voice.
I take a breath, debating myself on whether or not I should confront him. Collecting my courage, I get up and swivel to face him. He’s lying in bed, hair an adorable mess and blue eyes small from just waking up. He smiles at me, in all of his I-just-woke-up-but-I’m-still-annoyingly-perfect glory, and I wish I could go through this entire conversation without looking at him. It’s his eyes, I swear. They make it hard to think.
“What is this?” I say quietly, holding the piece of paper up.
The smile on his face disappears in a matter of seconds.
“It fell out of your jacket last night,” I explain.
He sits up straight and opens his mouth to speak. Except no sound comes out. Not on the first try. Not on the second. I wait for the rational explanation I pray is on its way, and a ton of scenarios pop in my head. What is he going to say?
“It only happened once. She didn’t mean anything. I… I got caught up in the moment.”
I shake my head, chills of horror running throughout my entire body, and erase this option from my head. Nah, he’s not going to say that. Maybe something like “I’m selling drugs?” Nope. Not going to say that either.
I focus on him. He finally speaks.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
I frown. “What?”
“Come here.” He pats the bed. When I don’t move, he arches an eyebrow. “Please.”
Half-heartedly, I grant his wish, climbing next to him.
“Remember when I said I wanted to step out of my father’s shadow?” He takes my hand.
I nod.
“I’ve been thinking about starting my own business for a while, and I thought I could look around deadbeat places to hopefully buy and sell the lots. I just… The location is great. The only reason it’s not doing well is because of the way it looks.”
No matter how doubtful I am in this instant, I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.
“Please don’t hate me. I didn’t want to tell you because nothing is official. That’s just one of the places I found. Wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.” He avoids looking into my eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it out of shame or because he’s not telling me the whole story. My stomach twists.
“Haze, if… if you’re lying to me,” is all I say.
He doesn’t reassure me the way I expect him to. An awfully long silence crushes me. I’m being ridiculous. I know him. It’s Haze. I would know if my own boyfriend was lying to me, right?
Right?
I cup his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Of course not.” He intertwines our fingers, leaning forward and kissing my knuckles. Conflicted, I steal my hand back. Worry creases his forehead. “You believe me, don’t you?”
I hate myself for saying this, but…
No, I don’t. I don’t believe him.
I think back to the moment we shared two days ago. We said we’d tell each other everything. He promised. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I believe you. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me, and I trust you.” His eyes light up with something. It’s dark, raw, real. He opens his mouth to spea—
There’s a loud knock on the door.
“It’s probably room service. It comes with the suite,” Haze says, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “Right on time.” I watch him walk to the door. As predicted, a fancy breakfast is waiting on the other side. After he’s brought the food in, he says he needs a shower and locks himself in the bathroom. He didn’t ask me to join him . Something is definitely bothering him . Unable to ignore the bad feeling burning within me, I eat breakfast alone and hope the rest of my day goes better than the way it started.
The drive back to the apartment is awkward. Yep, awkward. The sort of awkward I’ve never known with Haze before. Something has shifted between us—a bad something. Worst part is, it’s not for my lack of trying. I keep on cracking jokes, asking him questions he barely answers. He’s somewhere else. Somewhere too far for me to follow.
I didn’t dare bring up his motel investment story after he got out of the shower. I’m afraid he’ll get offended and think that I don’t trust him. I do trust him.
Or at least… I really, really , really want to.
He lowers his right hand to my thigh while driving and squeezes. The gesture, as small as it may be, brings me comfort.
When he rolls into our parking spot and kills the engine, I’m tempted to ask him what’s on his mind, but the sight of my best friend exiting my apartment building stops me.
What is Allie doing here so early?
She speed walks to her car parked in the visitor spot, and my gaze walks with her. She seems… emotional, distressed even. Before I know it, her car is nothing but a memory speeding down the street. I turn to Haze, who witnessed the whole thing.
“That’s weird,” I say and get out of the car, hurrying to the entrance. The elevator takes forever to get down, which only irritates me. Why would Allie be there when I’m not? Guess I’ll just ask the boys. Haze trails behind me, the same torn expression he’s had since this morning darkening his features. When we reach our front door, he grabs my wrist.
“Winter, wait, I know why Al—”
The front door opens from the inside.
In the doorway is Will.
Let me rephrase, Will and his luggage.
“Will?” I analyze the scene. “Are you leaving?”
No, he packed his entire life for fun, Winter.
“Yeah, I am.” He wraps me into an unexpected hug. “Thanks for letting me stay here, Canada.”
“But… why?” I ask, a bit emotional, even though the conversation we had when he gave me a ride to school yesterday sure gives me a hint. I catch a glimpse of Kendrick sitting on the couch over Will’s shoulder.His eyes are glued to the floor, his jaw hard as a rock. This isn’t good. They definitely had a fight.
“I just…” He breaks away from me, quickly glancing at Kendrick with pained eyes. “I really have to go home. My flight’s in a few hours. Take care, okay?”
“I… I will.” I’m going to miss this idiot.
Will turns to Haze. “Don’t fuck this up. You never know how much time you have with someone.”
Haze nods. By the time I’ve grasped what just happened, Will is long gone.
“Did we miss something? Why did he leave so suddenly?” I walk in and question Kendrick, who looks guilty of every single crime ever committed, sitting by himself with his head hanging low.
“You heard him. He had to go home.” He makes his way to the fridge to get himself a beer.
“Are you really drinking at…” I pause, checking my phone, “10:00 a.m.?”
“Today’s been a shitty day.” He opens and tips the bottle back.
I frown. “But the day just started.”
“Exactly my point.”
With all this, I almost forgot about Allie.
“Hey, what was Allie doing here? We saw her leaving.” I drop the bag of clothes I packed yesterday on the kitchen table.
Silence.
“Who?” Kendrick shrugs.
“Oh, fuck off,” Haze spits.
I frown. What’s that about?
“She forgot something here, that’s all,” Kendrick says.
Haze scoffs. “Was that something your dick?”
Kendrick’s jaw falls.
“Excuse me?” I blurt.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Kendrick rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s lying. Does this guy never learn? Something snaps inside of me. I’m sick of feeling like the whole world’s lying. Kendrick’s just rested his phone down. If he’s keeping something to himself, I’ll most likely find it in there. I act on autopilot, walking over and scooping his phone off the marble counter so fast it takes him a solid second to realize.
“Hey,” he yells.
I have just enough time to lock myself in the bathroom.
He pounds on the door. “What the hell are you doing? Give it back.”
I unlock his phone. “No password, huh? We like living dangerously, I see.”
“Winter, I’m not fucking kidding!”
“Where should I start? Camera roll? Text messages?”
He pounds louder.
“Yeah, you’re right. Text messages.”
He’s got a conversation with his mom, one with Alex and… wait, Allie ? I click. There aren’t many messages. Something tells me he deleted the rest like the sneaky bastard he is.
Kendrick: Are you okay? You just ran out.
Allie: Yeah.
Kendrick: Is there something wrong? I thought last night was great…
What the…
Allie: Me too. But I don’t think it should happen again.
Kendrick: Why not?
Kendrick: ???
Looks like he got Allied —that’s my way of saying blown off because that’s practically the girl’s brand.
“Winter, stop!” It sounds like he’s trying to beat the door down. If he thinks he’s angry, he hasn’t seen anything yet. I slam the door open with all my strength, and he jumps back a step.
“You slept with my best friend?” I shout.
I’ll spare you the part where I chase Kendrick around with a frying pan. Along with the part where Haze has to play moderator so we don’t wreck the entire apartment.
“Look, I didn’t plan it. She came over, we hit it off, and it just happened. Why are you so upset?” Kendrick argues.
This coming from the guy who can’t stand to see his best friend with a family member.
“Plus, she rejected my ass. She doesn’t like me,” he says, his bruised ego showing.
I remember how upset she was when she ran out. The look on her face, I’ve never seen it before.
Shit.
He’s wrong.
She does.
I don’t waste another breath on him, grab my coat, and head for the door.
Haze chases after me. “Where are you going?”
“To see Allie. I’ll be back tonight.” I smack a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he says two seconds before I’m out the door.
Allie’s house has always been some sort of sanctuary for me. While my mother forbade sleepovers, Allie’s mother encouraged them. While my mom refused to buy me makeup, Allie’s mother had boxes and boxes of it from her job as a makeup artist. It was always one of my favorite places to hang out at, but now that I’m standing on her porch, uninvited, I wonder if I should go home. Maybe she needs to be alone.
I texted her before I left my apartment, and although she didn’t see my messages, her gray car is the only one in the driveway. After arguing with myself for a minute, I decide I didn’t come all this way for nothing. I knock. Once. Twice. Three times.
I hear footsteps.
The door opens.
Allie blinks at me in surprise. Today’s her day off from work. She changed into her pajamas, her hair is up in a ponytail, and she looks done with… well, everything.
“Winter? What are you doing here?” She glances around.
“I know what happened last night.” I cut to the chase.
Her reaction is instant.
“Oh my God. I’m… I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t plan for it to happen. I was going to tell you today. I thought it couldn’t hurt if we just hung out and then… things got out of control and… Ugh,” she groans, covering her face with her hands.
I stop her. “Al, it’s fine. I’m not mad.”
I’m not Kendrick. I don’t think I own the right to tell people who they can be with.
“Really?” She peeks at me through her fingers.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw you leaving when I came home. You looked upset. You still do.”
She steps aside to let me in and closes the door. I open my arms for her. She walks into my embrace.
“So you like him, huh?” I say mid hug.
“What? No, I-I don’t.” She trips over her lies.
I cock an eyebrow. “Let’s try that again. With less babbling this time. Then maybe I’ll believe you.”
We pull away.
“I swear, I don’t know what it is about him,” she gives in. “After we…” She pauses. “ You know , I felt different. I didn’t want to leave or sneak out when he was sleeping. I didn’t even want to block him on everything and change my name. So when he asked if I wanted breakfast, I… I ran for the hills.”
“Let me get this straight. You ran for the hills because you wanted to stay?”
She stops to think for a second and nods. “Yep.”
I laugh and walk to her kitchen. Same ol’ Allie.
“Where’s your mom’s not-so-secret wine stash? We’re going to need it.”
HAZE
Don’t do it, Haze.
Don’t fucking do it.
Sitting in my car and staring at the creepiest of buildings, I battle my inner voice. I shouldn’t be here. I should be home, watching Kendrick mope around and waiting for Winter to come back from Allie’s. I also shouldn’t go in this motel—but fuck, do I want to. My phone goes off in my pocket.
It’s a text from Winter.
Winter: Hey babe. How’s your night going? I made amends with Allie but am currently reconsidering it.
Haze: Why?
Winter: She ordered pineapples on her pizza. Can you order Holy Water?
I laugh quietly, text back that I miss her, and ask when she’s coming home. I need to be there when she does. She’s already suspicious because of this morning. Investing in a shitty motel? Really, Haze? I cringe just thinking about it. I panicked and a bunch of BS burst out of my mouth. She didn’t believe me at first—of course she didn’t. Nothing can describe the fear I felt when she pulled away from me, took her hand back like she wasn’t mine. I told her I was going to take a shower, locked myself in the bathroom, and sat on the floor with my head in my hands for five minutes straight. I tried to think of a way not to lose her. Because I can’t lose her.
No fucking way I’ll survive losing Winter Kingston.
I’m stuck. I can’t tell her the truth—the organization made that clear—but now? I’m not sure I even want to. If this morning is anything to go by, she most likely wouldn’t take it well. She’d think I only came for Marcus. That I used her. She’d be wrong. Dead wrong. Why can’t I just let it go, be happy with my girlfriend, unsee Desiree’s blood on my hands? Forget her cold, tiny fingers wrapped around mine?
It would all be so much easier.
Dragging myself out of my car, I walk to the entrance of the hellhole. Maybe it’ll look less creepy on the inside.
The door opens with a creak and a bell goes off.
Nope, definitely just as creepy on the inside .
The red carpet looks like it hasn’t seen a vacuum in years, the wallpaper is coming off the walls, and don’t even get me started on the smell… Shit, weed, cigarette, cheap perfume. The combination makes my eyes water, and I wonder how long I can hold my breath without dying.
A counter with the words “Check in” on a folded piece of paper stands a couple of steps away from me. A piece of paper. Could they at least pretend to give a fuck?
Behind it is a woman loudly chewing gum and checking out her nails. She appears to be in her fifties. Artificial tan covers her wrinkled face, making her look like a human orange. An uneven smile twists her lips when she sees me. She assesses me from head to toe, bending forward and leaning against the counter. I whisk my eyes away from her breast, which she obviously wants me to focus on.
“What can I do for you, sweet thing?”
Gag reflex.
“I’d like to talk to the owner.”
“You’re looking at her,” she says as though she’s actually proud to own this place.
“I need information.” I find myself wondering how I’m casually going to ask her if a murderer stayed at her motel. I didn’t think this thing through.
“Ask away.”
“Are you familiar with a man named Marcus? He’s been traced back to this place.”
I think I see her eyes flash with something for a second there, but she gathers herself so quickly I’m not sure if I imagined it.
“Who’s asking?”
“Someone who needs answers.”
“And why would I help you? Time is money, sweetheart. I have a business to run.” She pauses. “I mean, unless you’re willing to work something out… I can always be convinced.” Her tone tells me everything I need to know.
Gag reflex, the return.
“What do you say, handsome? You help me. I help you.” She pops the second button of her shirt—which is frankly useless as I already see way more than I want to from her plunging V-neck. I dismiss her proposal, digging into my pocket and slapping two fifties on the counter. She eyes the money without a word and takes it, stuffing it inside her bra.
“What does this Marcus look like?”
I curse myself for not having a picture of him. All I have is the memories of the pictures I saw forever ago.
“Brown hair, crooked nose, around forty years old.”
“I’m going to need more than that, kid.”
“Strange man. Maybe a bit jumpy? He’s been on the run for a while.”
She narrows her eyes, as if to show me she’s racking her brain for answers. After a while, she shrugs. “There was this one guy a while back. He looked like shit. Smelled like it, too. He stayed in room twenty-nine and registered under a ridiculous name. We assumed it was a fake one, but we didn’t bother to look into it. Happens all the time here.”
“Did he match the description?”
“How the hell should I know? It’s not like I remember every face.”
I’ve never gotten another fifty-dollar bill out so fast.
She glances around the room and picks it up, shoving it inside her bra again. I mean, damn, does she keep missing children in there?
“Now that I think about it, he did.”
I know there’s a very good chance she’s wasting my money and my time, but she’s all I have.
“Do you have surveillance tapes I could watch?”
She frowns. “What are you? A cop?”
Nope. But I’m doing the job they couldn’t.
“Not exactly.”
“Well, unless you’re a cop, that’s not happening. I can give you a call if he comes back, but that’s it. Or did you need help with other things?” She offers me a wink.
“I’m good,” I say, cold as ice, and rush out of the dusty-ass motel before she can blink. Well, this was a complete waste. One hundred and fifty for this shit.
I get inside my car, take a deep breath to get my anger under control, and drive off.
I’m right back to square one.
With nothing but a name.
But I’m not giving up.
The woman watched the young guy climb back inside his car through the window. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She stood still and listened, waiting for a specific sound: his tires screeching down the road. The van took off at full speed, and she ran to the phone behind her, frantically dialing a number she knew all too well. It rang a total of five times, until finally, someone picked up.
Not a word was uttered down the line.
“You were right about the transaction. They tracked it,” she spoke quickly. “But there’s something else.”