Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“Can I come? Maybe I can make some friends.” I say the first excuse that comes to my mind. “Since I’m new and all.”

He rubs his neck again, “I’m sorry. It’s a private event. You have to be invited. Plus, there are already too many people going.”

“Okay. No problem. Have fun.” I force a smile and watch them walk out of the house. They hop into Kendrick’s car. What could be so important he has to hide it from me? I mentally battle myself, desperately trying to fight off this need to know.

Winter, don’t, my voice of reason whispers.

Winter, do, my curiosity replies.

It doesn’t take long for my body to go against my mind. Looks like making bad choices is a trend in my life at the moment.

Next thing I know, I’ve grabbed Kassidy’s keys—that she constantly leaves lying around the house and loses—and gotten into her car to follow Kendrick and his friends. I leave Maria’s driveway in a roar and find myself wondering where the hell they’re going. Thirty minutes later, they still haven’t stopped. I glance around to see I’m in a part of town you definitely don’t want to visit alone at night. Old houses with boarded windows, abandoned buildings, and dark little streets surround me.

What the hell are you doing, Winter? You should be in bed right now, watching movies and complaining about your nonexistent love life. Go back!

I try to keep what I assume to be an appropriate distance between us so they don’t suspect I’m stalking them.

Yes, stalking. I’m not going to try to deny it.

Then, after what seems to be an eternity, they finally stop, turning into a dark intersection that sends chills down my spine. They get out of the car and quickly enter an isolated brick alley. I should turn around. I should go back home. But instead, I find myself parking Kassidy’s car a block away and waiting a couple of minutes before following them.

Easy Ways to Get Killed written by Winter Kingston.

With each step, my heart thumps harder against my rib cage. God only knows how I manage not to faint when something I can’t see brushes my leg in the darkness of the alley. I stop dead in my tracks when I hear voices in the distance. I follow them until they grow louder, refusing to breathe, afraid even just one noise will be the death of me. Hiding behind a brick wall, I can see them—Will, Kendrick, Alex, and Blake. Lit up by a faded yellow light hanging above their heads, they a

re looking straight ahead of them at someone I can’t see.

“This isn’t over, Adams.” I recognize my cousin’s voice.

My mind immediately goes on overdrive when I hear the last name Kendrick spit out in a menacing manner. Adams.

Him? Here?

“On the contrary. It’s just the beginning,” a deep and husky voice answers. A hint of arrogance lingers in his tone, and my blood turns cold. No doubt—this is Haze Adams.

“The fight will be memorable,” Will barks.

“I expect nothing less,” Haze says.

The memories of my first day in school come rushing back as I hear Kassidy’s voice: “Rumor has it Haze is part of something bigger than you could possibly imagine. A street gang of some sort…”

The pieces of the puzzle assemble themselves as I come to the dreadful conclusion that the rumors are true.

Haze is part of a gang. And obviously, his gang is an enemy to my cousin’s. This is real. This is happening. That’s when every ounce of reason I have comes kicking in and I realize I have to get out of here. Fast. I have seen way more than enough to be scared for two lifetimes.

I jolt around, ready to run away, and literally stop breathing when I come face-to-face with something. Oh no, someone. A guy the size of a building.

“Going somewhere?”

Heart failure.

I can’t see the man’s face when he tightly wraps his gigantic hand around my arm and drags me out in the open away from my hiding spot. I wince in pain, every nerve in my body telling me that my only chances at survival are to use the element of surprise and escape when he doesn’t expect it.

I freeze, my eyes traveling from Kendrick and his friends to Haze Adams and a couple of other guys I assume to be members of his gang or whatever the hell they call themselves. Including the very nice man that’s holding my arm, there are three guys to be exact. When he sees me, Haze’s blue eyes light up in recognition.

“You again.” He seems surprised.

“Winter? What the hell are you doing here?” My cousin tries to hide his anger and fails. If Haze Adams doesn’t kill me tonight, Kendrick will.