Chapter 20
MICAH
“Huh. Not likely.” My dad scoffed as he stared down at his iPad, scrolling with one finger, his other hand scooping up cereal with a spoon.
“What?” I pushed my laptop away, the screen open to a reel of photos I’d taken of the Barracudas’ latest game.
A reel which happened to be paused on a close-up shot of Grayson, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he launched himself across the ice in single-minded pursuit of the puck.
Picking up my toast, I took a bite while I waited for him to finish chewing.
“That dumb cult. The New Horizons Fellowship of Enlightenment.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “Um. That sounds like a church.”
“That’s because they want you to think it’s a church.
Charlatans, all of them.” He shook his head, his mouth twisting in distaste.
“Says here they want to apply for permission to put up some kind of satellite in the woods. Maybe they think they’ll be able to commune with their fictional deity.
Ha!” He jabbed the screen again and then shoveled another mouthful of cereal into his mouth, chewing rapidly.
For the first time, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the gray pallor of his skin.
We might not have been close, but I knew him, and he was acting completely out of character. I needed to know why.
“Dad? Did you sleep last night?” I asked cautiously.
“No!” His hand slammed down on the table, sending milk sloshing out of his bowl.
I stared at the puddle collecting on the counter.
“Six energy drinks, and I still couldn’t figure it out.
Got a headache. Took Tylenol. Gotta get the plays right.
Got to win the game…” He was still rambling, but I was staring at him in dawning horror as I connected the dots.
I’d emptied out the bathroom cabinets just a few days ago, just to give me something to do when my brain wouldn’t stop replaying my fucking nightmares on a loop.
There had been a plain bottle in there, right at the back, that I was almost certain I remembered seeing my uncle with when he was alive.
I’d moved it to the front to remind myself to ask my dad about it. Shit.
I cut him off mid-rant. “Dad. The Tylenol you took. Was it from a plain bottle at the front of the cabinet?”
“Yes. What relevance does—”
“Dad. I think those were Uncle James’s pills. I-I found them a few days ago, and I meant to ask you about them—”
“You fucking worthless excuse for a son!” he bellowed, the gray pallor rapidly replaced with purple. “You drugged me!”
Only my quick reflexes saved me when he lunged at me without warning. Not even bothering to stop to pick up my bag, I scooped my laptop up under my arm and ran for the hallway, swiping my keys from the side table as I passed.
A while later, when I knew my dad would have left for hockey practice—hopefully after sleeping off whatever he’d accidentally taken—I headed back into the house.
In the bathroom, I opened the bottle, carefully tipping a few of the little pills onto the bathroom counter.
I snapped a few pictures, then sent a text to Cruz.
Around ten minutes later, when I’d loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, I had a response.
Cruz:
Should I be offended that you’ve asked me to identify drugs for you?
I exhaled, rubbing my hand over my mouth before tapping out a quick reply.
Me:
No. Think about it. I have a total of three people I trust. That’s it. One of them is the golden boy hockey captain. If he knows anything about drugs or medication other than weed and Tylenol, I’d be surprised. Maybe Ava would know but I don’t want to worry her
Cruz:
Should I be worried? Have you been experimenting with unknown substances?
Me:
Fuck off
Cruz:
You’ve been hanging out with Cross for too long. That’s what he’d say
Me:
Can you help me or not?
Cruz:
Yeah
There was nothing else after that, so I shrugged, assuming he’d get back to me later when he was free.
But when I left the house, I heard the low purr of an engine, and then Cruz’s car came to a stop at the end of my driveway.
The window rolled down, and oh, shit. The way my body reacted when I saw him smirking at me…
How the fuck was it possible to be so into three completely different people at the same time?
He came striding down my driveway, pausing when he reached me. “Hi, baby,” he said, leaning in to brush a kiss across my mouth before I had time to react.
“Cruz!” I screeched, shoving him away, my cheeks burning. “Anyone could see you!”
Shooting me an unapologetic grin, he strolled into my house like he owned it.
Cursing under my breath, I followed him in, grabbing his hand as soon as the front door was safely closed behind us, and dragged him toward the stairs.
He laughed but let himself be dragged along.
When we reached the bathroom, he pressed me up against the wall, kissing me until my dick was an iron bar against his thigh and I’d almost forgotten why he’d come here.
“You— Are— What?” I panted as he pulled away from me, and he chuckled.
“Show me the pills.”
“What about—?” I waved my hand in the direction of the obvious bulges in both of our jeans.
“Patience is a virtue, Micah.”
“Cocktease,” I mumbled, and his grin widened. It suddenly struck me just how much he’d changed around me in the time I’d known him. To have him smile that openly when we first interacted would have been unimaginable. To know he could even smile like that, at anyone…let alone me…
“Pills.” He snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I rubbed my hand over my mouth, shaking my head.
“Yeah. Here.”
“See that number? 512? They’re probably some kind of stimulant,” he said, examining the pills after I’d explained my dad’s strange behavior, and gone into a brief history of my uncle’s problems—the little I knew of it, anyway. “I think he’ll be okay, but want to head to the rink to check on him?”
“Ava might be there,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “Gray definitely will be.”
His expression darkened. “Fuck Cross.”
“What happened?”
Exhaling sharply, he turned on his heel, pushing out of the bathroom and down the stairs. “We had a disagreement and we haven’t spoken since.”
“That’s nothing new. You disagree all the time.” I opened the front door, ushering him out. “Want me to follow you?”
“Nah. My car. This time it was different. He— I did something he didn’t like, and he had words to say. Why can’t the asshole just trust me when I say I know what the fuck I’m doing?”
“Uh…” Sliding into the passenger seat and tossing my backpack onto the seat behind me, I eyed his tense profile. “What did you do?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He started up the engine, checking his mirrors before slamming his foot down on the accelerator. I jerked back, shooting him a warning look as he peeled away from the curb in a screech of tires.
“Watch it,” I snapped, and he eased up on the accelerator straight away, his hand coming down onto my thigh in a quick, light squeeze—a silent apology.
“It’s just…fucking Cross.” There was something else in his tone that had my radar pinging. A sense of guilt, almost. Shit, what had he done? If he wasn’t going to tell me, I’d have to get it out of Grayson.
We remained silent for the rest of the ride, both lost in our own thoughts.
When we pulled into the rink parking lot, it was empty except for Gray’s teammate Miller exiting the lot in his SUV as we entered.
Except—no, Grayson’s SUV was parked in the far corner, with Ava’s car next to his, both hidden in the rink’s shadow.
“Good. They’re both here,” I said.
“We were supposed to be coming to see your dad,” Cruz reminded me, bringing his car to a stop next to Grayson’s.
“Yeah, I’ll ask Gray if he seemed weird during practice.” Grabbing my bag from the back seat, I slid out of the car, waiting while Cruz locked up. His eyes met mine over the top of the car, and he blew me a kiss, which relieved me somewhat.
“C’mon. Let’s find our—” I paused. How did we define our relationship? “Our fucked-up little family,” I decided, and Cruz laughed.
“FULF,” he said, swatting my ass as we entered the building.
“I’m not sure that acronym’s gonna stick…”
My words died in my throat as his hand clamped over my mouth. Yanking me to a stop, he tugged me into him and put his mouth to my ear.
“What the fuck is that sound?”
My heart pounded out of my chest. I could feel Cruz’s heart pounding just as hard as mine.
“Gray. Ava,” I whispered as quietly as I could, and I felt him nod against me. Releasing me, he turned to the doors. I grabbed his hand, needing the contact as we opened the doors to the ice rink.
A cold trickle of fear slid down my spine.
The rink was pitch black, and echoing around us, coming from all sides, playing in a loop, over and over again, was a voice. A girl’s voice, soft and eerie.
“One, two, I’m going to get you…”