Page 64 of The Deceptions
“Come out,” JJ whispers with excitement, lightly tapping on the bar.
A loud bark rings out through the night air, pulling me to the window with a grin. Waffles wags his tail, yipping at the two standing outside my one-story window.
“Waffles, man! You can't be so loud. We're busting our girl out. Not trying to get caught.” Mack glares at Waffles, who slightly whimpers and sits on his furry butt while pouting.
“You hurt his feelings,” JJ mutters, patting Waffles on the head. “Be a good boy.” Waffles raises his nose and nudges JJ’s arm like he understands the command.
I grin. “Please hurry. He just left like twenty minutes ago.”
Mack scoffs, “Yeah, I know. Had that kid with him, too.” He rolls his eyes. “Got in his loud ass car. That’s how we knewit was safe to come and get you. Probably driving away and plotting his takeover or some shit.” Facts. My dad hasn’t been around a lot. At first, I thought it was jobs Franco was sending him on, but now I’m not so sure. Not to mention the companion he brings with him. A kid I met once, the night he was rescued from a terrible situation. Now, my dad keeps the kid around him, but never here. Oh, no. He has a special place where he hides him, and then they do business together. Probably in an upscale apartment or some shit.
I frown. “Yeah. He's been with him a lot lately. I'm starting to think he's up to something. You don't think?”
Mack shrugs. “Hopefully nothing serious. Maybe it's something for Franco or whatever. Let's roll. We're going to the Coliseum to dig for more treasure.” He grins at that, earning a soft bark from Waffles. “Boyyyy!” he whines, tossing his hands like a father chastising his son. “You're not a good jailbreak buddy. Next time, I'm bringing Hux to the window, and you'll be the lookout out there.” He gives Waffles a sharp look again while waving toward the forest.
That’s how it’s always done. One of them waits in the woods, looking to make sure no one else is around. Usually JJ will walk toward the front of my house and keep an eye on my dad, but today was different. And Waffles? Well, he’s always right here beside Mack, barking up a storm and alerting the damn world that I’m leaving. Surprisingly, though. We’ve never been caught.
My lips quiver. The memories are a gut punch. Uninvited and consuming. How dare they run through my mind without my damn permission. It’s like every glimpse of this world they’ve built in Greenwood has memories dislodging in my mind.
I don’t want to think about the past. Their smiles and laughs. I want to think about the future. AKA when I get to leaveGreenwood again. Only this time, I’ll be on top while they’re squirming in a Veritas prison begging for freedom.
Our dog. Waffles. He was our baby. Family, even. When I left town, I tore out everything the boys had done for me and threw them in the trash. Including Waffles. But he never betrayed me. He was always there, looking out for me. Except that night. They must have locked him away so he wouldn’t follow them to my house and have to watch while they decimated me.
I suck in a breath when Waffles stops mid step. His ears raise. His head tilts.
Goosebumps break out on my flesh when I jerk back, practically falling into an unoccupied room. Tears form in my eyes as I lean my head against the wall.
I can't face my dog. What if he doesn't recognize me? What if he does? I am completely different. Especially in this disguise. But I don’t want him to recognize me. I don’t want him to know that I’m me. It’ll hurt too damn much to face that reality.
An ache forms in my chest as more memories pour through my mind like a damn movie. The same memories I hid deep inside my mind, practically erased.
They kept our dog.
But threw me away like trash.
I can't be here anymore. I can't walk in a figurative graveyard of the ghosts who haunt me relentlessly. Including Waffles. He never turned his back on me. Not intentionally. But the other three? I can't continue to stand in their weird frat house with my heart in my throat and pretend I'm okay.
So, I find Simon on the ratty couch, pouting about the girl who ditched him for the other girl. Who happened to be her girlfriend. Simon is crestfallen when I drag his drunk ass out the front door and past the raging party happening next door. It’s the same type of thing. Loud music. Partiers screaming woohoo on the inside.
As we pass by on the sidewalk in front of their house, the hairs on my arms stand on end when Malic leans over the railing of his porch and grins at me knowingly.
“Wanna party?” he asks, raising a glass.
“Too much partying!” Simon grunts, covering his mouth with his fingers. “Oh, snickerdoodles,” he gags out before bending over and tossing his cookies on their lawn. And oh boy, that’s a lot of red margarita vomit.
How poetic.
“We’re all partied out, thanks,” I say, making sure to lower my voice. He’s psycho enough he might recognize the cadence of my voice, and I can’t have that. He’d probably follow me home and live in my closet.
“That’s a shame. Tell Simon to feel better.” Malic tosses back his drink and continues to watch us until Wilder comes out on the porch with an unlit cigarette between his lips. They exchange heated words with Malic gesturing all over the place, but I’m unable to hear them over the sound of Simon’s heaves.
And damn.
I rub Simon’s back as he continuously vomits on their lawn, and I eye Wilder under the rays of the moonlight. He’s shirtless, and just as I suspected, he has tattoos on almost every surface of his body. Fuck.
“I’m good now,” Simon slurs, leaning into me when he stands tall. “Goodnight, boys!” he shouts, waving to Malic and Wilder like they’re lifelong friends.
I raise a brow when Malic waves back, but Wilder doesn’t bother. His eyes sear into me, though, like he’s attempting to figure me out. Just like he always did when we were kids. Except back then, he hated my damn guts. Just like he hated his brother’s.
