Page 24 of Deadly Little Games

Hazen’s mouth twitches at the corner, revealing a fleeting hint of emotion before transforming into a stern, firm line. He falls into silence, taking several seconds to inhale from the joint before extinguishing it against the sole of his shoe.

“I want to know where your brother is. Is he in there?” he asks, pointing to the trailer, and I frown. Hasn’t Alec been with them? A sickening sensation spreads through my stomach, and I can almost taste the remnants of the dinner I had threatening to resurface.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, raising my voice and moving closer to Hazen until he’s only a step away. “I was about to knock down your door and start asking questions since the last time I saw him, he was with you.”

Tilting his head to the side, Hazen’s dark-blue eyes bore into mine, filled with intensity. Something passes between us—my body responds, wanting to be closer to him, and I don’t understand. “Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod, licking my dry lips. “Well, your brother owes us a fucking lot of money. So you better find him.”

Where the fuck are you, Alec? I knew working for them was a bad idea. Fucking hell. I need to see him. If he isn’t with them, then he has to be somewhere here.

I turn around, the gravel crunching beneath my feet as I start walking through the trailer park. The dirt path leading to the quiet main road is illuminated by the lights from the trailers.

“Hey, wait!” Hazen calls from behind me, but I ignore him and keep going.

Old man Ronald from down the street storms out of hishome, beer in one hand and a knife in the other. He raises his head toward me, and I nod in response. I quickly look back and see him watching Hazen with a mix of fear and anger. He doesn’t budge until we’re out of sight.

Hazen reaches me, the sound of his shoes scuffing the dirt.

“What are you doing?” I scowl.

“Stalking you. Trying to take you on a date,” he replies dryly, and I roll my eyes.

“Hilarious. Look, you can either help me find him or you can fuck off. Your call,” I say, darting my eyes around the park and taking in every detail. Hoping Alec just pops out of one of the trailers or out of the bushes.

Hazen laughs but doesn’t leave. He’s my shadow, following my every move. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a lot riding on your brother, so lead the way.”

The unsettling sensation in my stomach intensifies, threatening to overpower my every thought. Alec is fine. He is okay. He’ll be back soon. I repeat those words over and over until I start to believe them.

I’ll find him at one of the guys’ places or at a party. Then Alec and I can leave this fucking town with our mom, but without a “see you later.”

“When did you see Alec last?” I ask, climbing through the fence and out onto the road.

“That night at the masquerade party,” Hazen replies, falling into step beside me once again.

The wind whips my hair behind my back, and I try not to freak out. That was three nights ago, and I haven’t seen him since then either. Even though my brother prefers to be away from home when Mom is there, he never forgets to send me messages to let me know he’s doing okay. I’m sure he’s fine. He has to be. We are so close to gettingout. He could have already skipped town and gone to college to settle in, but again, why wouldn’t he tell me?

I swallow hard, running my fingers through my hair. “He’s probably at one of the gatherings at Junction Street,” I say confidently. “You sure you want to come? I mean, it’s not really your scene. So you can run back over the tracks to your little safety net, and I’ll let you know when I find him,” I say with a smug look, and Hazen scoffs.

“Those little hood rats don’t scare me. They know their place. I’ve got a job to do, and I won’t be going home until it’s done.” He punctuates his statement with a grunt, pulling out another joint from his pants pocket. He offers it to me, but I shake my head.

We walk through the streets, the only sound being the soft shuffle of our footsteps. It’s quiet except for a few people walking by, giving Hazen suspicious looks like they always do when the elite are on our turf. It’s a sure sign of trouble. Guys like Hazen only come over here for business, to clean up, or to sort shit out. Never socially. They prefer to stick to their own, just like we do. It’s easier that way. Less complicated. We have the divide for a reason: to keep everyone in line, which keeps the peace.

I used to feel at home over in Daringville with them, but now I know this is where I belong. This is home. They abandoned us. Threw us over the tracks and never looked back. I’ll never forget what they did to us.

Turning down the familiar suburban street, the sight of abandoned houses, their windows covered in boards and graffiti, paints a picture of neglect and decay. There are still people squatting here because they had nowhere else to go when the rent got raised and they got evicted. The Brotherhood holds all the power. The divide was initially intended to grant us autonomy and our own set of rules, but as theyears passed, the lines began to fade, resulting in their complete domination. We have the freedom to do whatever we want, but there is always a cost attached.

“Your precious Brotherhood did this,” I say, pointing at the empty buildings, and Hazen freezes in front of a red-brick home.

Before I can intervene, he defiantly pushes through the broken wire fence and ascends the steps.

“I did this,” he whispers, his voice barely reaching my ears.

I follow him through the fence, the rough metal scraping against my fingertips. He halts suddenly, and his eyes remain fixed on the house, a mix of guilt and shame etched across his features. His face turns pale as all color drains from it, and he shoves his hands into his pockets.

What did he do?

Chapter Twelve

Hazen

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