Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

“We know why there hasn’t been a single trace of him in the past months, Haze.” My source’s words flow quickly.

“Ricky, just spit it out, already.”

“There isn’t a trace of him because he’s not in the country anymore.”

An unpleasant feeling in my stomach quickly dominates my usual curiosity. I almost wish that he hadn’t called. I wish I didn’t hear him say these words because of what they imply.

It all makes sense.

The piece of shit stopped leaving clues behind. No credit card transactions, no whisper on the street, nothing. It was like he’d just vanished from the surface of the earth. I thought he might be dead. I was wrong.

“Where is he?” I keep my eyes glued to Winter, who’s smiling at me from afar. She’s completely oblivious, waiting in line to check her luggage at the counter.

What I wouldn’t do to keep this girl out of harm’s way.

“Listen, man. I made a mistake. I’m sorry. This one’s on me,” he says in fear of my reaction.

“Ricky, I’m only going to ask you one last time. Where’s the bastard? Where’s Marcus?” I hiss at his endless stalling. He lets out a long breath that makes me want to rip his head off. I don’t need the dramatic effects. It’s like he’s holding his tongue precisely to piss me off.

Then, after the longest five seconds of my life, he says it.

“You don’t happen to be planning a trip to Canada anytime soon, do you?”

My mouth falls open as my ability to think, breathe, speak—overall be a human being—escapes me.

All I can do is look at her. Just her.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“I have to go.” I hang up before he can even think of getting a word in and weave my way through the thick crowd of travelers. My feet go up against my brain, my pulse quickening as I shove my hand into my pocket and grasp my passport. My stomach knots.

I find myself behind her. I cut the line, not giving a single fuck about the people huffing and puffing.

“Haze, what are you—”

I don’t let her finish, crashing my lips to hers. She’s surprised, stunned, but she kisses me back. She welcomes my mouth the way she always does. I break away from her and catch the confusion burning in the back of her eyes. I don’t say a word, aware that what I do next can either change everything…

Or ruin it.

I get my passport and the boarding pass I printed out yesterday out of my pocket. Up until now, I was convinced that it was pointless. That I couldn’t possibly change my mind at the last minute and decide to go. But I still booked a flight the second she told me she was leaving. Maybe because, deep down, I knew it would come to this. I knew I’d end up chasing this girl to the end of the world.

Even if she’s not the only one I’m chasing…

Her hand jumps to her wide-open mouth. Her watery eyes stray around like she’s looking for cameras. Like she’s waiting for a crew to jump out and scream, “You’ve been pranked!”

The words she once said to me spin around in my head.

Home is where you heart is.

She’s right.

She was always right.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it comes out as a plea. She’s begging me. Her eyes say, “I swear to God, if you’re messing with me right now, you’re not having children.” I know she’s forbidding me from answering the question wrong.

So, I give her the only right answer there is…

“I’m going home.”