One Choice (Hogan Brothers 2)

“Why are you yelling, Lennox?” Well, shit. Sophia walked into the room looking radiant as ever as she scolded her soon to be husband.

“Morning, Soph.” Levi leaned down to kiss her cheek as she walked past him.

Before she said a thing, her eyes shot to his bruised face. “Oh, Levi.” She sighed like he was the damn child. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay.” And he was.

“What happened?” she asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t lie to her.

“Soph.” His voice held a warning in it. He’d never yell at her or give her shit, but on this one thing, he wasn’t going to budge no matter what anyone said or did.

Understanding lit her gaze, and he couldn’t be more grateful as she leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Please be careful, Levi.”

Nodding his head, she went over to her man, distracting him enough that Levi could make his escape into the shop and get some much-needed work done before his big fight the following night.

He hated keeping secrets from his brothers, and especially his mom. Their inevitable reaction was what kept him from telling them, though. He knew they’d be disappointed, mad, maybe even sad that he had such a strong desire to inflict pain on someone else. Even the pain he suffered made him feel alive, as if he wasn’t just going through the motions of life. He often felt like he was waiting for life to happen to him.

Logically, he knew he was still young at twenty-five, still had plenty of time to settle into what he wanted out of his life. But why did he feel as though he’d already hit his prime?

An image of Hayes flashed through his mind as he began prepping an old Impala, effectively cutting off any other thoughts.

“Hayes!”

Stopping in her tracks, about to walk into the main corridor of her high school, she turned to look for the chipper voice that had just called to her.

Seeing Alyssa, one of the girls she often ate lunch with, waving at the other end of the hall, she called, “Hey, Alyssa,” prompting the girl to race towards her.

She was nice—not as annoying as some of the other people Hayes went to school with—it was just that she was always so flipping happy. Hayes couldn’t imagine that amount of cheerfulness in someone not working in Santa’s workshop. It was unnatural.

“Okay, so, tomorrow night, what are you doing? I have the perfect idea for a girls’ night or maybe a double date. Did you know Brett’s”—that’s her boyfriend—“friend, Dustin, has the hugest crush on you?” Hayes was sure she must be mistaken.

“Take a breath, Lys.” She waited till the other girl did. “Now, what are you talking about?”

A deep breath in, and she rambled off again. “Brett got tickets to this awesome underground event. Dustin will be there. You should totally come. You guys would be so cute together.”

“I don’t know, Lys, it’s not really my scene.” She didn’t even know what it was, and she wanted out before she could be sucked in.

“Come...On…Hayes.” Her voice was exaggerated. “You never go out with me. Please come? Please, please, please!” Lys had gotten on her knees to beg her. It was downright embarrassing since other students had started watching her antics.

“Fine. But get up for crying out loud.”

Alyssa’s squeal of excitement did nothing to lessen the attention they were getting. Shaking her head, Hayes walked away to her first class of the morning, dreading the final she was about to write.

When she’d moved to town, Alyssa had been the first person to treat her with respect. While Hayes hadn’t been looking for friends or to fit in, she was glad for the other girl’s persistence up to now. She was still a bit of an outcast, but other kids no longer looked at her as though she were a freak. They hung out as often as Lys could convince her to stop running and studying, which admittedly wasn’t often.

Clearing her mind as she sat in her seat, the stress and worry came back about her test. Grammar had never been one of her stronger suits. English was downright horrible.

It wasn’t long before the bell rang and more students piled into the class with the same amount of dread on their faces as her own. When Mr. Stevenson entered the room, tests in hand, there was a mutual groan from nearly every person. He, of course, laughed and tried to encourage everyone that they were ready as he handed the papers out.

When he placed hers on top of her desk, she felt her brain seizing in protest over the torture she was forcing it to go through.

“You have two hours, everyone. No speaking and keep your eyes on your own tests,” Mr. Stevenson announced once he was at the front of the room again.

And so, the torture began.

Chapter Three

When the roots are deep, there is no reason to fear the wind.