10. Grayson

10

GRAYSON

I rubbed at my ribs as I stared in the direction Ava and Cruz had disappeared, swallowed up by the panicking crowd. Next to me, Micah cleared his throat.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No," I bit out. It was a lie. The fucker had gone at me hard, getting a couple of good punches in before I'd managed to defend myself.

"Gray." Micah spoke softly as he moved into my line of vision. His hand came up, his thumb dragging across my jaw. "You're going to have a bruise here. Where else does it hurt?"

Goosebumps sparked where he touched me, spreading over my body. I reeled backward, slapping his hand away. "I'm fucking fine. Don't touch me."

"Yeah, of course you are," he muttered as he held his hands up, stepping away from me with an exaggerated eye roll. There was a flush to his cheeks that hadn't been there earlier. Thankfully for us both, he immediately changed the subject to our girl—fuck, no, not our girl, as much as I wished she was ours—no, mine . Just mine.

"Should we go after Ava?"

After a second's hesitation while I thought about it, I shook my head. Going after her could only end up in disaster. If there was one thing I knew about Ava Hayes, it was that she was independent, with a spine of fucking steel. I'd seen her face as she'd gone running off with Cruz. There was no fear there. Nothing that sent alarm bells ringing. Other than the fact that fucking Cruz Martinez was the person she'd gone with willingly.

Even so, I wasn't going to leave her to her own devices. If my finger happened to slip and I called to check in on her and she didn't reply…let's just say I'd be a lot better prepared for Cruz the next time around.

"We'll head back to campus. She'll know we're going that way, and if she needs us, we'll be ready."

"Okay…" Micah said quietly, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the dirt and sending a cloud of dust around our feet.

"Come on. Looks like everyone's headed through the cornfield. We'll go around the other way, and if we're lucky, we can avoid the cops and everyone else. Your dad will have our heads if he finds us here."

His eyes widened as he finally took in the seriousness of our situation, and he hurried after me, diving into the passenger seat of my car. He'd pulled up the hood of his Blackwell Lake U hoodie, huddling inside it as if it would hide him from anyone passing by. I almost smiled, but our situation was nothing to smile about.

Any icy trickle of fear made its way down my spine.

If it hadn't been Cruz sending those messages, who could it have been?

"Yeah, he got me out. No, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

The call ended, and I exchanged glances with Micah before returning my attention to the road. Ava's tone had been reassuring, but neither of us could relax. As I swung onto the street that led us back to the Blackwell Lake U campus, Micah tapped on the screen of his phone.

"I'm scared, Grayson," he confessed, so softly that I almost missed it over the low rumble of my SUV's engine. "Who's sending the messages? What do they want with us? Did we—did we kill someone?" His voice cracked, a shaky fucking mess, and I couldn't stand it. Whipping my SUV into a space a little way down the street from the hockey house, I switched off the engine and turned to face him.

I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my thighs, doing everything I could to avoid the memories from that summer night on the lake assaulting me. "We didn't kill anyone, okay? T-that hand in the water…it was already there."

"It was." He nodded, biting down on his lip as he tried to convince himself, and he looked so fucking afraid in that second that I gave in to my baser instincts, lunging forward to tug him into my arms. Hugging Micah Pierce wasn't something that had ever crossed my mind before, but right then, it was clear to anyone with half a brain that he needed comfort.

This was completely out of character for both of us. He hated me, and I was indifferent to him. Yet we'd been drawn into this fucked-up situation together, and we had to see it through, which meant that for now at least, we were allies. Until we worked out who was messing with us.

Until we made them pay.

Micah's breath was hot against the side of my throat, and I suppressed a weird shiver before drawing back. It was too comfortable, feeling his warm, hard body curling into mine. I didn't fucking like it. Not to mention, he was my coach's son, and if Coach ever caught sight of his son cuddling up with his hockey team captain…

That thought was enough to have me shoving Micah away, instantly apologizing as he fell against the passenger door, unprepared for my move.

"Sorry," I muttered, rubbing my hand over my face, ignoring the dull ache in my jaw. My brain was running at a million miles an hour, and thinking about the weird effect Micah was having on me was beyond my comprehension at the moment.

My fingers closed around the door handle. "Come on. Let's go inside and wait for Ava. The second she needs us, we'll be there. Martinez is playing dumb with the texts, and yeah, maybe he wasn't the one to send them, but my gut is telling me that everything's connected."

Micah nodded as he opened the passenger door. "It has to be. We were all there that night."

We met up again around the front of my SUV. Micah's fingers tapped a stuttering path across the hood as he shifted on his feet, clearly on edge. I stepped closer, placing my hand on the hood, close to his, and his little finger brushed against mine. We both let out a heavy breath.

"We did nothing wrong that night," I said decisively. "We're going to find out who sent the messages, and we're going to make them wish they'd never fucked with us."

Micah nodded, shooting me a quick grin that warmed me inside, before his attention was diverted.

"Hey. Is that Cruz's car? Outside your hockey house?"

My gaze swung in the direction he was pointing.

He was right. There was no mistaking it.

I curved my fingers around Micah's bicep. "Ready to interrogate Cruz Martinez?"

His brows flew up. "Uhhh…"

"Channel the Micah at the racetrack. I was your minion, remember? Or so you said to Cruz."

He glared at me, but the effect was ruined by the way his cheeks were flushing. I bit back a smile at his indignation. Ignoring the dull ache of pain in my ribs and jaw, caused by the man who was already getting way too cozy with Ava, I started toward the hockey house, dragging a surprisingly compliant Micah along with me.

It was time to get some answers.