Chapter 30

Hawke

The train fades away, disappearing down the track and into the forest. Nicholas speeds off with Kade and Dylan, and I have no idea if they grabbed Tommy or not. She’s probably already making the trek on foot, but our phones are fucking wet. I’ll try to call her when we’re home.

I hold Aro to me, seeing the red and blue flashing lights through the trees. The conductor probably called the police when he saw us jumping.

Sirens ring in the air, and Aro kisses my mouth. “Baby, stop,” she tells me. “Stop.”

I take us to the ground, the police cars streak past us, and I come down on top of her. I hold her face.

“I really love you,” she whispers, gazing up at me.

My eyes sting, and I’m not sad or upset, but I know why all the same. Reeves is gone. Hugo and Green Street are off our backs—at least for now.

She loves me.

I smile. “I know,” I reply, just like she did at Kade’s house earlier.

“Why did you do that?” She shakes her head at me. “Don’t you see? I’m going to kill you eventually. I’m a mess.”

I laugh. And then I come down on her mouth, sliding my fingers into her wet hair as I kiss her. I move slow so I can feel her, taste her, breathe her in...

“You’re the only time I’ve ever felt it,” I say.

“What?”

I rise up a little, looking down at her. “Live or die. You or nothing.” I brush her cheek with my thumb. “I have to have you.”

I kiss her again, taking control and sliding my tongue past her lips.

She moans, and I slide my body in between her legs.

“You’re crazy now,” she whimpers. “What have I done to you?”

“This.” I rub my hardening cock between her thighs and her hand to my chest, my heart thundering inside. “You’re doing this to me. I’m finally fucking alive.”

After about an hour, we make it back to Kade’s, and I call Tommy, but she doesn’t answer. I don’t want to go look for the kid—I’m exhausted—but luckily, she texts me back before I have a chance to head back out.

Home safe.

I send her a thumbs up, feeling like I should say something else, but I’m not sure what. I could tell her to stay away from Green Street until I’m blue in the face, but I won’t be around this fall to babysit her.

And Kade won’t go near her. We’ve all got a ton of shit happening.

But by the next morning, we all just wish we were dead.

At least for a minute.

“You little shits!” I hear Madoc shout.

I startle, waking up on the couch in his library, Aro in my arms.

I open my eyes to see him launch his overnight bag up the stairs and then try to find his way through the sea of kids all sleeping in his entryway and kitchen.

I spot Kade passed out on his stomach in the middle of all the air mattresses.

Oh, shit.

It takes a second for the fog to clear and to connect the dots.

When we’d gotten back last night, we saw that the Rebels brought in the foam machines when they tied people up. But we ran out of here before we had a chance to notice. By the time we got back, the party was still going, drunk people not giving a shit that the Caruthers’ living room was under three feet of suds.

And to be honest, no one had the energy to clean it up. We tossed out the machines and the tanks, moved the air mattresses and what bedding we could salvage into the entryway, and put some people for the sleepover up on the landing at the top of the stairs. Kade stayed up to get drunk with friends, Dylan disappeared to a spare bedroom by herself, and I curled up on a couch with Aro.

I thought we’d have enough time to erase some of the damage before Kade’s parents got home. We were all just too tired last night.

“You know…” Madoc grits out, trying to get to his kid without stepping on someone else’s. “Just when I start to think you can’t come up with anything worse, you surprise me every time!”

Kade hugs his pillow to his body, mumbling, “I’m an overachiever.”

Madoc yanks off his son’s comforter. “Get up!”

“Why?” Kade pops his head up. “Is breakfast ready?”

Madoc’s eyes flare, and he launches himself at his son.

But Kade’s mom pulls his dad back. Madoc struggles, his black suit jacket coming off his shoulders as he tries to pull away from her.

Kade’s grandfather, Jason—who’s kind of a pseudo grandpa to me too—chuckles as he walks past with our grandmother, Katherine. “I said you were going to have one just like you,” he tells Madoc.

Fallon tries to soothe her man, not nearly as upset that expensive furniture and carpets are still spotted with remnants of the water and foam. “It’ll be a story someday,” she tells him, still trying to pull him back. “Just remember that. We’ll laugh about this.”

“I’ll be dead before this is ever funny!” Madoc yells.

He pries himself loose and swoops down to grab his kid, but Kade laughs and scurries away, hopping over another mattress. Some of our friends start to wake up, others are already awake, either laughing at the spectacle or shielding their eyes and ears to nurse their hangovers.

“No!” Kade crawls away and disappears down the hall.

“Get him, Dad!” A.J., Kade’s nine-year-old little sister, eggs their father on.

“A.J., you’re supposed to be on my side!” Kade cries.

But I hear him laugh. Fallon shakes her head, veering off to the kitchen and letting her husband and son go at it, and I kiss Aro’s hair, slipping out from underneath her. She sleeps, and I follow Madoc to explain. It’s not exactly all Kade’s fault.

Although, the foam party was his idea.

“Noooo!” Kade bellows as his dad comes down on his back, and they wrestle to the floor. “Get off!”

I stop next to A.J. as she giggles.

Then Madoc stops.

He looks up, into his office on the left.

Light from the window spills across his face, and he holds Kade down as his son continues to wriggle underneath him.

“Where’s my laptop?” Madoc suddenly asks.

My face falls. What?

I walk up to the open door and peer inside, Madoc’s office is pristine, except for a few loose papers on the floor. His laptop, which usually sits on his desk, isn’t there.

He rises and walks in, Kade’s smile fading as he climbs to his feet. He, A.J., and I follow their dad.

“Your laptop?” Kade chokes out.

“Yes.” His dad looks at him. “The office was locked. Did your friends get in here?”

Kade looks at me, and I glance back. “Oh my God,” I murmur.

I was right. The fucking Marauders. It was all a decoy.

“Reeves,” I tell Kade. “They came here to get the laptop for him.”

But Madoc breaks in. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Drew Reeves,” I tell him. I should’ve warned him about what he had asked Aro to do. “He was planning on breaking in here—”

But then A.J. interrupts us. “Daddy, your painting,” she says.

We all stop.

“What?” Madoc glances behind him to the wall behind his desk.

“The painting is open,” she tells him, pointing.

We all move for the framed pastoral scene, seeing it’s indeed apart from the wall on one side, cracked open like a door.

Madoc uses the painting to hide what’s behind.

“Could they have gotten into the safe too?” I ask.

Everyone in the family knows it’s there, but I doubt anyone would give that information away.

Madoc twists the dial, pulls the lever, and cracks open the safe, hesitating just a moment as he looks inside.

Then, he reaches inside…and pulls out his laptop.

He holds it up, looking to Kade.

“I didn’t put that in there,” his son says.

“Are you sure?”

“I wasn’t drunk, Dad.”

Madoc cocks an eyebrow, studying the computer. “Well, your mom and A.J. were with me…”

And the only other person who knows the combination is…

“Hunter,” I say under my breath. I glance at Kade. “He was here.”

But when? It had to be before they came, or…when they came, to hide it from them in time.

Kade’s fear fades, and something else settles in his expression. His eyes harden, and he goes rigid. He grabs the laptop and stares at it, his brow furrowing. “How did he know they were coming for this?” he asks me.

I shake my head. I have no idea.

“Will you come in with me?” Aro asks.

The Maple Room sits beyond, outside her passenger side window, and I gaze over at her.

I wish she knew she never has to ask that.

It’s been two days since we faced Hugo, and I’ve been trying to put myself in her shoes. Her entire life is in limbo now, and I would hate it. Changing towns, changing schools, changing homes… I don’t think I’ll ever know how hard this is for her, but I’m doing everything I can to make sure I’m the one constant.

In a week, she’ll feel a little more comfortable in Shelburne Falls.

In a month, she’ll have a routine.

And in six, she’ll be smiling at her life without having to try. I hope.

I squeeze her hand. “Yeah.”

We walk into the bar, the scent of wet wood and cigarettes permeating the air as I look around at the pool tables half-filled with daytime drinkers. Kevin Hayes, the owner, works the bar. The guy’s gray ponytail always seems greasy, and I swear he has an endless amount of Fort Lauderdale Spring Break T-shirts, because he’s always wearing one.

He’s a good guy, though. His life goal is to retire and be a beach bum in Key West, so he works this place seven days a week to pay for it someday.

He eyes us as we walk in. “How are you doing, kid?” he asks Aro.

She nods at him, but he must see she’s not here for fun. He looks into the bar and calls out, “Carmen.”

I follow his gaze, finding Aro’s mother. She stands behind some guy I don’t recognize, her black apron tied around her waist and wearing a tight top and jeans. The silver jewelry in her belly button sparkles in the dim light.

She pulls off the man—not her husband—and stares at Aro, hesitating.

“I’ll be okay,” Aro tells me, stepping forward.

Her mom approaches, only meeting her daughter’s eyes in short glances. I stay back.

She stops in front of Aro.

“Just don’t talk for a minute, okay?” Aro tells her. “I don’t want to fight.”

Her mom stands there, her shoulders squared, because she’s used to being in trouble and knows her daughter isn’t here for anything good.

“Thank you for leaving them with Mr. and Mrs. Trent,” Aro says. “I know you didn’t do it for them, but still…”

Everything is still up in the air, and no paperwork has been approved, but I’m pretty sure my parents are prepared to take the kids. Aro and I will help.

“And if they miss me?” Carmen asks.

“They’ve always missed you. But they’ll get over it.”

Pain hits her mother’s eyes.

“The only hard part about all of this is they’re going to think you don’t love them,” Aro tells her, “and that’s why you gave up.” She shakes her head, softening her voice. “I know you love them, Mom. I’ll make sure they know it, too. Just do me a favor, okay? Don’t show up in six months and try to get them back because a guy dumped you and you’re lonely. Let them start their lives. Have parents and pancakes and playdates. Matty has taken to Jax.”

I want to smile at that, but I don’t. My dad had to take the kid to work with him at JT Racing today, because Matty wouldn’t get off his back. Like literally.

“You’ll see them,” Aro assures her. “Just let them be. Don’t take them back unless you’re giving them something better. Please.”

Her mom doesn’t say anything, but her eyes say enough. They water, despair coming through. Did my grandmother look like this when she let my mom walk away? What was my dad’s mom thinking when she left him?

When she doesn’t say anything, Aro turns, and we start to leave.

But then we hear her behind us. “I never…”

Aro stops, and I look to see her mom approach again. “I never thought I would be like this,” she tells her daughter.

Aro’s lips tremble, and I don’t know if she’s sad or angry, but whatever it is, she doesn’t want to let it out. “I know, Mom,” she says with her back still turned. “Life just does things to people.”

We leave, heading out to the parking lot, and I wait for her to take my hand before I kiss her head.

I think about my dad’s mom a lot, hating her for never trying and not being there to protect him from all of the things that happened to him.

But then I wonder if she just would’ve been worse. Another abuser. Maybe it hurt my dad not to have her, but maybe it would’ve hurt more to love her and be disappointed.

I open the door for her, and she turns to look at me before climbing in. “You sure your parents are up to taking in three strays?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Three?”

I was confident she was staying, but I didn’t have a confirmation. She is eighteen after all, so she’s no longer obligated to be anywhere.

She shrugs. “It’s time to break the cycle,” she says. “And it’s just for a year, right? A year to finish high school.”

My chest fills up with something, and I don’t know what it is, but there’s a lot of it and it feels good.

“Are you sure?” I ask her.

I want her to have everything, but she has to want it too. I just want her to know she can have anything she wants, if she fights for it.

She nods.

I touch my hand to her face. “Solo un ano,” I tell her.

Just a year.

But her eyes flare. “You actually speak Spanish?” she yells.

I hold back my laugh. “I told you I spent a lot of time outside of America growing up.”

She slaps my arm. “Hawke!”

I pull away from her attack, chuckling. “What?”

She knew I understood her when she called me ‘motherfucker’. I guess she just assumed I only understood some swear words and nothing else.

“You should tell someone you speak their language!”

“Why?” I shove her into the car and close the door. “You only spoke Spanish when you didn’t want me to know what you were saying, which is rude,” I say through the window. “You deserved it.”

I walk around the car and climb into my seat. But in a second, she’s immediately straddling me and holding my neck with both hands.

She glares, but I can tell she’s playing.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I smile, brushing her nose with mine. “Te amo.”

“What?” she demands.

“Te amo.” I catch her nose between my teeth before her lips. “Te amo, Aro Marquez.”

She starts breathing hard and gives in, kissing me. “Oh, that’s hot. Speak more Spanish, Hawke.”

I snort. “Back at the tower. Let’s go.”

She drops back into her own seat, and I race well above the speed limit to get us back to the hideout. It’s only been a couple of days, but I’ve missed being in here with her. I almost wish we could cook up some more trouble so we could stay.

We come down through the rooftop entrance, and as soon as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, I snatch her into my arms and pull her into my body.

“We have to be quick,” she gasps, pulling off my shirt. “Matty will be waiting for me.”

We crash onto the sofa, and I toss the PlayStation controller to get it out of the way. I peel off her tank top, she pulls her hair out of its ponytail, and she starts to unfasten my shorts.

But I jump off of her. “Condoms,” I groan.

I hurry to the surveillance room, already hard with the blood rushing to my groin. I’d dumped some provisions in here when I came to delete any possible footage of us on the bridge two days ago.

But Aro calls out, “Just one!”

“Maybe.”

I hear her laugh. She thinks I’m kidding. I open the grocery bag on the desk, digging out the box and pulling a couple of packages out. I stuff them in my pocket and start to leave, but I see one of the drawers cracked open.

The drawer with the phones.

I slide it open all the way and immediately spot the new addition. It’s a twenty-year-old Nokia like most of the others, but this one is black and a slightly updated 6210.

I pick it up and press the Power button. The screen lights up, and my heart skips a beat. “Aro?” I call out. “Come here!”

I wait for the phone to go through its start-up process, and after a few seconds, I hear her shuffle in behind me.

She stops at my side. “What is it?”

“Did you put this in here?”

I look down at her, seeing she holds my T-shirt to her body, her shorts still fastened. I show her the phone.

“It’s a phone that wasn’t here before,” I point out.

“I’ve never seen it.” But then she draws in a sharp breath. “There was someone here, though. I completely forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

“He grabbed me on Grudge Night, pulled me in through the mirror in Rivertown before a cop caught me. He saved me, actually. I thought it was you at first.”

“And?” I blurt out.

“And nothing.” She shakes her head. “He left. He just said ‘You know why they call this place Carnival Tower? Because freaks play here.’ And then he was gone.”

What the hell?

I look back down at the phone. Someone knows we’re here. I mean, I kind of knew that, but he’s been coming in and out while we’ve been here. He left a new phone.

Whoever he is, he’s having fun with us.

I should’ve realized something was wrong when I noticed the portrait missing in the other tunnel yesterday. I just assumed Aro moved it.

I tap the Menu and find Messages, clicking on the only thread I see.

I told you she always liked me more.

I hold it between Aro and me, so we can both read.

You think?the owner of the phone replies. Maybe she likes your face. Maybe she fantasized it wasn’t actually you.

Aro looks up at me, and I try to make sense of what they’re saying. She likes his face. Winslet?

Did she think it was someone else she was having sex with?

“Twins?” Aro says.

I stare at the phone. The story says one friend died, the other avenged him. The legend says one friend faked his suicide, while the other joined him in taunting her.

But both are mistaken.

“They weren’t friends,” I say out loud. “They were twins.”

Identical, from what it sounds like.

“That’ll narrow it down,” Aro tells me. “How many sets of twins have been in Weston?”

Not many, I’m sure.

I want her in the tower, Person B says.

I do too, the owner of the cell phone replies.But I have a better idea first.

I always love your ideas.

You want more of her?

Hell yes.

You want me to have her?the owner asks.

I’m dying for it.

My blood races but it’s cold as ice.

Rivalry Week, our man says.A new tradition. Hostages.

I’m listening…

We’ll talk at home, he tells his brother.

And the conversation ends.

I exit, double-checking for more, but that was the only discussion.

I toss it back into the drawer, standing there with Aro.

“They were twins,” I murmur.

She could’ve easily slept with one, who pretended to be the other. Maybe the obsessed boy got her after all. How much more diabolical to get revenge on an unrequited love than to fake your own suicide and pretend to be your brother—the one she really wants?

“And it didn’t end with Carnival Tower,” Aro says.

“Rivalry Week…” I mumble.

She stares up at me, amazement in her eyes. “The prisoner exchange was their idea?”

Hostages, they’d said. Sounds like the prisoner exchange we have every October before Rivalry Week between St. Matt’s, Shelburne Falls, and Weston—three rival schools.

I sift through the other phones in the drawer. There’s a hell of a lot more to the story, and someone involved in it knows we’re here and is now participating.

And Rivalry Week is coming. “We’ve gotta get these other ones working,” I tell her.