Page 60 of Hate Game

Mason taps my knee. “Hey, are you okay?”

I open my eyes. “Sure, why?”

“You normally greet me with a smart-ass comment.”

“I’m tired from party planning, that’s all.”

“From the looks of it, you did a great job, Spunk.”

Hard Knocks. Spunk. Regret. What’s with the nicknames? But Spunk beats Cockblocker.

“It was a team effort. Thank you for loaning us the lights.” I put my fist out. We fist bump. “How long do we have?” For our extracurricular activities. It’s been a while since we’ve patrolled. “How’s the crime rate?” Broken-into cars. Vandalism. Smashed-in windows on the bottom floor apartments.

“As long as you need. There’s been an uptick since you and I stopped patrolling. What are you packing?” Mason tips his head at the small black duffel bag at my feet.

“NVGs, two BB guns, and four canisters of pellets.”

“Just like in the old days. Nice.”

We drive past the turn that leads to the guesthouse Leigh is staying at and the driveway that dead-ends at her boyfriend’s parents’ house. After we pass the town center, Mason turns into an alleyway that separates a large, low-income housing apartment complex from the rear of the town center.

The businesses that line this side of the chain-link fence have their dumpsters as another barrier separating the apartments from their businesses.

Property crimes are high here, while police presence is non-existent unless something bloody and violent happens, such as shootings or murder. But property crimes are rarely followed up on, and so the people who live here gave up on reporting the crimes to the authorities.

That’s where Mason and I come in. I mentioned to him when I was fifteen how frustrated I was that a single mother who kept getting her car broken into felt so helpless to do anything that she paid hard-earned money for someone to keep an eye on her car, only to find out the same guy was the one doing the smash and grab for funsies.

Mason told me about his nightly patrols, and I was in, though it took convincing. First, he gave me lessons on shooting a BB gun from a distance. He had one rule. Never aim at the person’s head. Everything from the shoulders down was fair game.

Second, he taught me evasive maneuvers by having me tag along to play paintball with him and his old military buddies. Mason served in the Army before he moved to Delridge to be closer to his aging parents and single mom sister. His niece and nephew are the cutest kids. I babysit for Tessa when she goes on a date with whichever guy she’s matched with on the online dating sites.

Lastly, he taught me how to fight in case we’re separated and I’m cornered.

“Can I stay the night at your place and get dropped off at school in the morning?” I don’t want to be anywhere near Malice’s place when he takes Cassie up to his room for a nightcap after the party is over.

“How’s the situation panning out? Leigh spilled the details when we were loading the lights into her guy’s truck.”

I shrug. “It’s a job.”

“What about your boner for him? Doesn’t that complicate matters when you two are shacked up together?”

“He doesn’t feel the same, and I have lady parts, thank you very much.”

I expect him to forget my first sentence and laugh at the last one. Mason is quiet. I stare out the passenger-side window. Mason’s windows are so tinted that there’s not much to see except for lights in the distance.

“Are you sure about his feelings for you?”

“I watched him hold another girl in his arms. Watched him kiss the top of her head like she meant the world to him. What do you think? What I feel for him is the reason I want to spend time with you. I have burning, unanswered questions only an experienced guy in his early thirties can answer.”

“And here I thought you liked spending time with me.”

“I do. You’re the big brother I’m missing from my life.”

“I figured Isaac filled that void just fine.”

“Why do you believe he’s my brother?”

“The way he looks at you. You’re the most precious thing to him, Rue.”

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