The girl’s probably already dead.
“How are you so sure I have something to live for?”
“I didn’t take your damn girl, Haze. Why would I do that? We had an alliance.”
“According to her phone, you did.” Haze selected the conversation. “’Watch out for the scars,’ really? You expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?”
“I never sent her that. Think about it. Did it ever occur to you that I’ve been set up?”
Only a fool wouldn’t have considered that option. But Haze refused to look further into it. Because if he was right, if Ian had been set up by the other person he had in mind, everything was going to change. Everything would collapse. One of Ian’s guys got his gun out before Haze could retract himself. Out of all the directions the bullet could’ve taken, it decided to hit the wall, inches away from his head. The gunshot was the East Side’s cue. They kicked the door in, throwing the homemade smoke bomb Haze had stolen from his brother’s stash mere hours after Winter’s disappearance. He still couldn’t believe how many weapons and bombs his brother had locked up in their house. Making the most out of the North Side’s momentary blindness, they dashed down the stairs and into the vehicle waiting for them out front. The car took off in a roar, screeching around the corner at full speed.
“How did you get him so scared?” Blake asked, panting.
“Threatened his girl. Always works.”
“That’s all?” Alexander added, glancing in the rearview mirror, the fear of being followed eating him alive.
“I may also have pretended that there was a bomb,” Haze said. Distant smiles tugged at the corners of their lips. Enemy or not, the guy was good.
Kendrick glowered. “The entire building was empty. That’s not where they’re keeping her.”
“I know. I think we got it all wrong.”
“What? Why?” Will said.
“We’ve been set up. It wasn’t Ian.”
“You got someone else in mind?” Kendrick blew out a breath.
The veins in Haze’s neck bulged in exasperation. Saying it would make it official. It would make it real… and Haze wasn’t quite ready for that.
“Yes… And I hope I’m wrong.”
S E V E N T E E N
Lost
WINTER
You know that moment when something you thought would never happen to you, happens to you?
That moment you realize that you’re not going to wake up in your bed, that you take for granted because you’ve never actually had to find out what it’s like to sleep on the floor, and sigh in relief because it was just a dream? That’s what I’ve been going through ever since I woke up. Who knows how long I’ve been knocked out. Hours? Days maybe?
My head hurts so bad.
Scratch that, my entire body hurts so bad.
I’m lying on a cement floor. It’s cold. Hard. This leads me to assume that I’m in a basement, which are only a thing in higher areas in Florida. We’re not anywhere near Maria’s neighborhood.
That’s the closest I can get to knowing where I am.
Tight ropes circle my legs and wrists as a blindfold presses against my eyes. The large piece of duct tape covering my mouth gives me no other choice but to use the only sense available to me: hearing.
I focus on the squeaking sounds and footsteps on what seems to be an old wooden floor above my head. Everything about this place says no one will ever find you here.
Fun.
They tossed my phone at the scene, which doesn’t seem smart if, like I suspect, the North Side is responsible. Kendrick and the guys will find my phone—if it still works at all—and figure it out.