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“Yeah, it was a surprise, but I guess it’s ruined now,” I fake laugh, and her frown progresses into a smile.

“Really? What’s the occasion?”

“Everything. Us moving in together, you starting school. It’s something to celebrate.” I lie my ass off.

“Where are we going?” Excitement replaces her doubt.

“You’ll see tonight. Now, come on, you’re going to be late.”

Will walks back into the room before she can answer, his phone in his hand. His face is pale—blank.

“Will, come on. You’re driving me,” Winter affirms. “Haze’s got a lot planning to do for our date tonight.” I know she’s been wanting to talk to Will alone for a while now. Probably saw an opportunity to find out what’s up with him and took it. Will doesn’t even put up a semblance of a fight, nodding and pulling the keys to his rental car out of his pocket. Dude looks like he just found out someone died.

“Oh, and Haze, did you call to make the hotel reservation yet?” Kendrick adds.

Man, do I regret letting him beat me that night at the Downside instead of whooping his ass right now.

“What hotel reservation? We’re going to a hotel? You didn’t have to do that, babe.” Winter’s face lights up, and she strolls to me, arms wide open.

“I know. I wanted to.” I wrap her into a hug and glare at Kendrick over her shoulder.

“Isn’t he the best?” Kendrick squeals.

Shitbag, part two.

“Okay. I really have to go now. Text you when I get there.” She kisses me, grabs her bag, and drags Will out of the apartment. Their footsteps fade down the halls. I don’t waste another second on Kendrick, rushing to our bedroom and kicking the door shut. I have two hours to plan a believable date and make a hotel reservation. Then I’m meeting some guy that’ll hopefully tell me how to find my sister’s murderer.

Just another regular day.

Have you ever wondered how many times you’ve walked by someone who has done horrible things without knowing it? Maybe you ran into a murderer at the mall. At the library. At the restaurant. Maybe you passed them on the sidewalk. Haze, for all we know, the stranger next to you could be a monster. This is what my brother used to say. He believed you can never truly know who you’re dealing with.

Ironic that, in the end, he was the monster.

Why am I thinking about my backstabbing bro right now? I’m guessing it has something to do with the pit in my stomach, the guilt twisting my gut. I feel like a monster. I feel like him.

Speed walking toward the set meeting place, I play with my keys and curse my nerves. This is stupid. I have nothing to worry about. I’m practically going to a meeting with myself. They called to let me know no one would meet me an hour back. Just said they left something for me there, whatever the hell that means.

Pulling my hood on, I glance around the sketchy alley. The sound of my footsteps and my heart pumping blood echo in my skull. Is this what criminals feel like? Do they enjoy the stress, the constant possibility of getting caught? Or do they become completely paranoid, too, crippled by what-ifs and maybes? I keep thinking that Winter is going to appear at every street corner, put the pieces together, and leave me forever.

I’m haunted by someone I’ve never lost.

Already missing a love that’s still mine.

My source made it clear. She has to stay in the dark, no matter what, but it’s still killing me. Chewing at my insides every time I see that heart-wrenching smile of hers. My phone lights up with an email confirmation. Thank you. Your room has been booked. I got a suite in a five-star hotel—my baby deserves the best, last minute or not.

Following the instructions given to me, I dive deeper into an isolated area, distancing myself from the crowded streets with each step. I know Florida like the back of my hand, but this place? Might as well ask people on the street for directions to the creepy drug alley.

I jump at the sound of an incoming text.

It’s Winter.

For fuck’s sake, Haze, calm down.

I’ve done plenty of dangerous things before, so why? Why is this time different? Why can’t I fucking breathe?

I read Winter’s name and it hits me.

She’s why.


Tags: Eliah Greenwood Rules Romance