Chapter 10

Hawke

The Loop—now dubbed Fallstown, because it’s a lot bigger than the single track it started out as—is where everyone will be today. Everyone who knows me.

The fact that Tommy is one of the few people—including some in my family—who still refer to it as the Loop is a reminder of her connection to us. She gets that name from her father, as Dylan, Kade, and I get it from ours.

It’s old school.

And I should absolutely not go. I could’ve said ‘sure, I’ll take you next week’ or ‘yeah, sometime this fall’.

But I didn’t. I told her I’d take her. Why? Because I want to go too.

I want to know who’s out there, what’s going on, and maybe I’m also not excited about being bored with Aro Marquez back at the hideout for the next several days.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, holding my tongue as her filthy boot, complete with tattered duct tape, rests on my dash.

Well, Madoc’s dash. This is still technically his car, although he hasn’t driven it in years.

Her lip will heal, she’d said.

Like she was telling me something I didn’t know. Of course, Schuyler’s lip will heal. It was everything after that statement that she didn’t say but I still heard.

Her lip will heal.

Her life will go on.

She’s popular.

Desired.

About to go to college.

And everything about her life will be charmed and perfect.

Because nothing about Aro Marquez’s life will be. She knows that no matter how many times or how hard she kicks, people like Schuyler have the last laugh. Aro knows she’s invisible.

I glance over again, just slightly, studying the burn on her left hand. It peeks out of the cuff of her hoodie, the pinky dark and the skin rough, the injury covering the entire finger and spreading over half of the back of her hand like something that spilled on it and stained.

I want to ask her what happened, but I close my mouth instead. That conversation is for people who trust each other. She’ll just get defensive.

I pull onto the dirt road, leading to the Loop, immediately pressing the brake to slow.

“You’ll tell the rest of them I’m allowed here?” Tommy asks.

The car rocks over the uneven terrain, and I meet the kid’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are big and round, and I feel like she’s going to hide behind me the whole time.

But I nod anyway. “Yeah.”

I know why she’s scared, and she should be. Not that it’s her fault, but she’ll be in high school in another year, and it’s about to get worse. She needs to start fighting.

Aro looks back at Tommy and then at me, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Is it because she’s poor?”

What? I shake my head. “Gimme a break.”

“Then what is it?” she presses. “Why is she the one Falls girl not welcome in the Falls?”

It’s complicated. And not worth explaining.

But most people know it has nothing to do with the kid. She’s just the casualty of a situation that started when our parents were in high school with her father.

When I don’t answer, Aro starts mumbling under her breath in Spanish, loud enough for me to hear and assuming I don’t know she’s talking shit about my family and me.

I ignore it.

“It’s so bright,” Tommy says, smiling as she looks into the distance beyond the trees.

It’s just after noon, but the lights under the cloudy sky make it look like a carnival. Has Tommy ever been here? Her dad used to race here, but since my family now owns it, he doesn’t step foot on the property.

“How many tracks are there?” Aro asks.

“Four.” I pull into a secluded area between two trees. “Back in the day, it was all just dirt. My uncles will barely show up anymore now that it’s so different.”

I would’ve loved to have seen it back when it was new. Back when it was dangerous. Illegal.

“They say it’s because they’re too old. ‘It’s time to let new blood rule’, but I think they just couldn’t deal with saying goodbye to a place they loved. They prefer to remember it like it was.”

“But your dad changed it,” Tommy points out. “Are they mad at him?”

I smile. “No, kid.” I glance up at her in the mirror. “Everything changes. That’s how the world works. People change. Communities change. And you have to change with it. Just because it was the right way for one group of people doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone for all of eternity. My uncles know that.”

I turn off the car, pulling my wallet and phone out of the console. “We learn. We change. We grow. If you don’t grow, you die.”

I close the sunroof and move to get out of the car, but everything is too quiet. I look over, seeing Aro watching me.

What? What did I say?

I shake my head, remembering better than to initiate a conversation that will just end up making my head hurt. “Slouching is bad for your back,” I point out, eyeing her posture. “It strains your spinal discs.”

Something happens to her face—the creases between her eyes soften and her lips move.

Is she smiling? I turn away, climbing out of the car.

“Why are we doing this?” she calls out. “I mean, I’m not excited to go back to that secret chamber either and be bored out of my mind while you continue to critique my posture, but we shouldn’t be here.” She and Tommy exit the car and meet me back by the trunk. “Your dad will be here,” she points out. “He’ll interfere. Not to mention, you’re the class president, son of a semi-famous writer, and what…six foot three? You don’t blend in.”

Six-one.

And she’s right.

But my parents need to see me, and I…

“Everyone has a camera phone and then there’s the drones,” she goes on. “What if we’re spotted? What if they follow us back to the hideout?”

I open up the trunk, digging out the hoodies left over from skiing last winter. That was the last time I used his car. I toss a blue one to her and take a red one, and then I grab three face masks and dole out one to Tommy and then to her.

She stares at it. “I’ve been vaccinated. And boostered,” she snips. “You mean you haven’t? Doesn’t sound like you. Figured you for someone who doesn’t even drink diet soda because it’s carcinogenic.”

“It’s to cover your face, moron,” I tell her. “Get it on before I stumble over the realization that you know the word carcinogenic and start to think you have a brain.”

She snatches it out of my hand, while Tommy pulls hers on. “It’s actually smart.” She poses. “Protesters in Hong Kong have been using these for years to hide their identity. Besides, they’re also becoming a fashion accessory.”

And then she does that old dance move where you form a V with your fingers and move them in front of your eyes.

Aro and I stare at her. Hong Kong?

“I do have a brain, on the other hand,” she teases Aro.

I keep my smile to myself and pull on my sweatshirt, Aro doing the same, and then I grab Tommy’s hand and put it on the waist of my hoodie for her to hold onto.

“If we get separated,” I tell Aro, “I’ll meet you on the roof at High Street. Keep the phone on you.”

“And be ready to run,” she adds.

It’s a warning, because she knows this is an unnecessary risk, but I’m not making her be here. She can leave if she wants.

We walk, Tommy holding onto me as we make our way for the racetracks.

“So many Mustangs,” Aro coos like she’s dying of starvation.

I look over, seeing my uncle’s old Boss 302 displayed off to the side. Ancient, but the car is a legend here. Dylan will be racing it tonight.

“You like Mustangs?” I walk, pulling Tommy.

“Love them,” Aro sighs. “They’re the easiest cars to break into.”

I falter in my steps. Jesus Christ. I shoot her a look, but I don’t say anything.

Honestly, back in the day, I’m sure my uncles would’ve loved her. I can’t tell anyone who my dad is—or who my uncle is—without someone in this town telling me a “oh, wait till you hear about the time we were arrested” story. I think that’s why I hate mistakes. My dad risked too much in order for me to live this way.

“Don’t get into trouble,” I tell Aro.

I can’t see her mouth, but I feel like she makes a face before veering off and walking into the crowd. I almost call after her, but fuck it. It’s not like she’ll be able to hide a Mustang in her sweatshirt.

I pull my hood down over my eyes and keep my head down, filtering through the throngs of people coming and going. Saturdays at Fallstown, especially at the end of summer, are always packed. People are coming home from vacations, getting ready for the school year to start, and this is where they go if they want to catch up with friends. There will be events all day and into the night.

The bike track sits far off to the right, a few sets of bleachers starting to fill in anticipation of the one o’clock event, while another track roars with the engines of old muscle—Mustangs, Chargers, Camaros, Challengers, and GTOs. Drivers who appreciate a little nostalgia and history, like my uncles.

Howls and cheers ring in the air, and I look ahead to track number one—the main event. I move closer, slipping around the crowd, Tommy at my back.

I spot Kade under the hood of Dylan’s car, while Noah, my uncle Jared’s protégé, sips a beer and talks to some women. My dad stands up in the tower on the other side of the track. I can always tell which outline is him. It’s the one hunched over the desk filled with computers and surveillance, and he’s probably on high alert, keeping an eye on the crowd. I’m sure he considered canceling, but he knows I’ll show up.

I scan a hundred-and-eighty degrees, looking for anything.

Aro.

Green Street.

The rest of my family and friends.

“Are you crazy?” I hear someone hiss.

I turn my head just enough to see Dylan at my side, her shoulder touching my arm as she faces whatever’s behind me, trying to look like we’re not talking.

“What the hell, Hawke?” she breathes out.

“Long story,” I murmur.

Dylan eyes Tommy. The kid moves a little, probably tempted to hide herself.

“Green Street is here,” Dylan says. “They’re watching Kade and me, hoping we’ll lead them to you. They can’t see you with me.”

I glance around quickly. “Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “My parents are around, and Noah is here.”

I watch Noah pull up his T-shirt and use it to wipe off his face, two women about to piss themselves at the view.

I don’t care if her mom and dad are home. If I’m not next door, I’d rather she not be there. There’s a glimpse of her in those videos online too. Green Street could target her.

“Stay at Madoc and Fallon’s,” I tell her.

“Why?”

“They have a gate. It’s safer.”

Just then Noah climbs into her car, revving the engine for Kade as he works on something, and cheers go off all around him. Mostly girls. I wince, not sure if I have a reason not to like him or I’m simply jealous he can give multiple orgasms at the same time without touching anyone.

Dylan follows my gaze and snickers. “Dude, stop worrying about him and me in the same house.”

That’s not my concern. It’s just—

“I’d be more worried about him around your mom,” she jokes. “He doesn’t look at me like he looks at her.”

“Ugh…” Really?

“I think your dad’s about to kill him,” she muses, smiling a little.

“I’ll help.”

“Well, be careful.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “Mountain Boy can swing an ax pretty good.”

Whatever. I hold out my fist. “Text me when you’re home safe.”

She bumps me with hers. “Same.”

She keeps moving, and Tommy and I head for the bleachers, but I see Aro come up carrying two beers. She keeps one, handing me the other. I stare at it, knowing she’s not twenty-one and she has no money. “Do I want to know?” I ask her.

She holds my eyes, sipping her beer again as my answer.

Great. I shake my head, handing it to Tommy. “Go sit down and watch.”

I’m driving tonight, and she’s owed some fun. What the hell…

She smiles and pulls down her mask, sipping it like it’s cocoa on Christmas.

Music starts blasting over the speakers, riling up the crowd, and I feel sweat trickle down my back.

Aro drinks the beer and looks around. “It’s like a movie.”

“What is?”

“What you all do for fun.”

I drop my gaze down to her. “Have you ever raced?”

“Not for fun.”

It takes me a second, but a snort escapes me before I can hold it back. She doesn’t look at me, but I see a smile cross her face as she downs another gulp.

I take in the cars—old or new, that cost money to modify—and the teenagers, the drama, the rivalries…

I feel it too. I always did. Kind of hollow.

I never connected to this like Kade and Dylan do. I don’t think Hunter does either. This was our parents’ thing. I grew up with it.

I’m tired of it now.

I want something that excites me as much as this does them, but different. Something new.

I see my mother hand my little cousins, A.J. and James, some popcorn as they sit on the bleachers, and then she walks away, back to the concession stand.

“Don’t cause any trouble,” I tell Aro again before walking away.

I follow my mom, texting her as I go.

Behind you.

I see her drop her head and look at her phone. Her spine goes straight, and she starts to turn but doesn’t.

Behind the food truck, she tells me.

I see her walk for the field, trees dotting the area, away from the noise and eyes.

But then arms slip around my waist, and I go still, fear stunning me for a moment.

“I didn’t do anything with him,” a girl’s voice says.

Schuyler. I let out a breath, realizing it’s not trouble. “You let him do something,” I reply.

“We’re broken up, Hawke,” she says into my back. “It’s not cheating.”

No, it’s not, but still. I don’t know why I’m mad, though. Am I that jealous?

Or is it pride? Am I pissed because she let someone else touch her, or because she’s giving me an easy target to blame for why it ended? It wasn’t me. It was her. She did this. She’s the sole reason we failed.

I used to be able to say that, but after five or six Schuylers, I know it’s not them anymore.

“I want it to be you,” she says.

I shift, feeling walls around us that aren’t there. Squeezing us in, tighter and tighter.

I’m sick of sex. I’m sick of talking about it. I’m sick of thinking about it. Is that all anyone wants?

I pull her arms off me.

But she comes back in, grabbing me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll go as slowly as you want. I want to be your little animal.”

I wish she could. I wish anyone could at this point. I want to feel it. All of it. All of her. The vision in my head.

So fucking much.

But I keep stopping.

I pull away. I can’t do this right now. “I gotta go.”

I head off into the brush, around the truck, and see my mom standing near the generator.

She rushes up and hugs me, and I wrap my arms around her, feeling her head lay on my shoulder and remembering when I was little and mine rested on hers.

“Your father told me you were safe but thank goodness.” She shakes, and I hear the tears in her voice, but she doesn’t cry. “Jesus, Hawke.”

I release her, knowing I’m about to be yelled at now that she’s satisfied that I’m safe.

“It’s too late for a lecture,” I warn.

“You’re coming home.”

“Not—”

“It’s not a discussion!” she whisper-yells.

Her green eyes catch fire, and I flinch, because she scares me. My parents have a knack for getting everything they want. I didn’t inherit that trait, unfortunately.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “That asshole has a warrant out for me,” I tell her.

“You know we’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t want it taken care of,” I retort, hardening my voice more than I know I should. “I want him gone.”

She drops her eyes, shaking her head. “Hawke—”

“Ricky was high on his shit when he crashed the car,” I say.

She stops, slowly raising her eyes, and I can see the sadness over the loss five years ago. My parents used to take kids in. Kids like Aro. Ricky was sixteen, and the last foster they did. He’s gone, and they still feel like it’s their fault.

We stare at each other in silence as I wait for her to understand. I can’t let this guy go. He’s terrorizing a community that’s too comfortable to challenge him.

“What am I supposed to say here?” she asks. “If you were me, would you just let your son take matters into his own hands?”

“No.”

Of course not. I understand her position. She doesn’t want anything that puts me in danger. I get it.

But I stop, Aro popping into my head and the sudden understanding of how different our lives are. I mean, I knew it, but I didn’t fully get it until now.

No one will come and save her. I have a dozen ready to stand in front of me and block danger.

I made a deal with her. I should stick to it.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me,” I say as gently as possible.

She looks at me, her chest caving a little and looking deflated. Like she can’t believe I just said that.

It’s true, though. I’m eighteen. She’s not wrong, but neither am I. I’m doing this.

“I think that no matter how good your parents are or how rich you are, kids are going to get into trouble,” I tell her. “You did everything you were supposed to, but I’m not backing down.”

I kiss her cheek and turn to walk away, but then I hear her call out behind me. “What can I do?”

I look up, seeing Dylan climbing into her car and Noah handing her a helmet.

I turn, relief flooding me. “Can you ask Madoc to talk to the police? Find out where I’m standing with all of this?”

I need to know how much trouble I’m really in.

She nods, and I continue. “And antibiotics from Tate.”

Her eyebrows touch her hairline, but I assure her, “It’s not for me. Just in case, though.”

She relaxes.

“And, um…” I pull out my phone, texting her again. “Can you have someone check on this address?” I know she has contacts with CPS. “It’s two kids and a mom. Don’t…do anything yet. I just want to make sure they’re okay.”

Not all foster kids are lucky enough to be placed in homes like my parents’, and if they’re sent farther away, that could trigger Aro. But I don’t trust her mother, even if I did remove the stepdad.

“Are they relatives of that girl?” she asks.

I nod.

“I’ll make a call today,” she says.

I approach her and hug her again. “Thanks.” I pull back. “I’ll be in touch. If you don’t hear from me in forty-eight hours, drag the river.”

Her eyes go round, and I just laugh. “I’m kidding.”

She slaps me on the arm, about to cry. “It’s not funny!”

I kiss her forehead, still laughing. “I’ll be in touch. Tell Dad I’m fine.”

I pull my mask back up and head through people again, making my way to the bleachers where Tommy still sits by herself at the top. Looking over, Noah still talks to Dylan as her engine starts, and I see Kade chatting with friends nearby.

I wish he’d show some damn concern. I can’t be the only one watching out for her around these guys. He used to be pretty protective, but after Hunter left, things changed.

I round the side of the bleachers and jump up on the side, climbing up and slipping onto the top bench so I can avoid all the eyes.

I take a seat behind Tommy, her beer cupped in her hands, still half-full. She stares out at the track, barely noticing as I take the drink from her hand and down a gulp. Following her gaze, I see Kade staring at her and not looking happy that she’s here.

Her head bows a little.

“You know why he does that?” I hand the beer back to her. “Because it works.”

On the one hand, I get it. Her dad fucked up in a way that’ll never be forgiven and accepting her would be saying we can look past all of that when we can’t. It’s not her fault. It just sucks.

Kade and so many others in this town don’t have to go out of their way to make her life worse, though. We don’t all have to be friends, but we can be kind.

“Girls with blue hair aren’t afraid of anyone,” I tell her.

She laughs, and I see her head bob in a nod before she takes a drink.

“Hey, where’s my purse?” someone says down below.

I look over the railing and notice Kelsey Smith spinning around and searching the area.

Her friend moves her chair, searching underneath it. “When did you see it last?”

“It was right here,” she blurts out.

I raise my eyes a little, seeing a blue hoodie slink through the people.

I blink long and hard. “Wait here,” I tell Tommy.

Dipping under the railing, I jump off the bleachers and push through the people, keeping my head down.

But they notice anyway. I see them do double-takes when I pass.

We have seconds.

I reach out and catch Aro’s arm, guiding her beyond the crowd and keeping my voice as low as possible. “I told you not to cause trouble.”

I reach around into the center pocket of her hoodie and pull out the cash I knew I’d find. I glare down at her.

She shakes her head. “Did you see her shoes?” she asks. “She can afford it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?” she argues. “Gamble with it? I’m buying fucking food, since you took away my mom’s meal ticket.”

I advance on her, because she’s fucking yelling and we’re gaining notice. I growl down at her, barely unlocking my jaw. “You should be grateful I took him out of your house.”

She laughs. “All you did was take away one problem and create another. Morals are for people with second bathrooms.”

“Then I’ll take care of it.”

“I will take care of it!” she shouts. “I feed my family. Not you!”

Everyone’s looking at us, and I gaze down at her, too tired and too frustrated to figure out what to say to make her shut up and behave. She escalates everything.

She’s too inconvenient. I’ve never known someone who repeatedly does the exact opposite of what they’re supposed to. And for what? Eighty bucks? Why take unnecessary risk? Why look for trouble?

“We’re going to get caught because you do stupid things,” I tell her.

“Oh, like venture into a public place so you can check on your girlfriend?”

What? That’s not…

I straighten, staring down at her. She must’ve seen Schuyler and me just now.

But I’m not going to explain myself to her. I don’t explain myself to anyone. The longer this goes on, the more trouble I’m getting into, and she refuses to listen. I’m not going down for her.

“This isn’t working,” I say.

“Yeah, you ain’t kidding.”

Screw this. I still have a chance, and no matter what I do she’ll end up in jail one way or another, because she only thinks from one minute to the next. Never tomorrow.

“I’m turning myself in in the morning,” I say. “And I wish you the best of luck.”

I walk back to the bleachers to get Tommy, but I hear her behind me. “I’d say the same, but you won’t need it.”

I stop, glancing behind me, but she’s already gone.

And I stand there, feeling like I’m sinking and I can’t get to the surface.

What will happen to her?

Where will she go?

The men in her life are predators.

My gut clenches, and I dart my eyes around, searching for the blue hoodie. Where the hell did she go?

I don’t see her.

And as I take Tommy back to the car, I can’t stop saying Aro’s name over and over in my head, and I don’t know why.

Maybe so I never forget.

So, I’ll remember she was here.

Aro Teresa Marquez.