“Over there.” Micah pointed to the far wall where a disc kept spinning, but no sound came out. A button was flashing green, and Micah turned it off. “It’s for the stadium speakers.”
He moved something on the disc, and right away that same white noise began to play. Grayson removed the disc immediately.
“They were anticipating us finding this. This shit kept playing with no more noise,” Gray spat.
“You shouldn’t have touched it with your bare hands,” Cruz mumbled.
“Fuck off, Martinez,” Grayson snarled at him.
I couldn’t help but glare at both of them. Here I thought we were all getting along, and they seemed to be back at square one.
“Stop it,” I hissed.
Grayson snorted. “I forget Martinez knows a lot of people and can get shit done, except he doesn’t even offer to tell us shit.”
I had no idea why they were arguing. Micah, who usually helped to mediate between us, was looking at something on the desk.
“You gotta be shitting me.” Micah’s tone had a hint of disbelief laced with anger.
In his hands were three Polaroid pictures. The first to see them was Cruz, since he was the closest to him. His cheeks got a hint of red, then his eyes landed on me, and finally on Grayson.
With shaking hands, he passed them to Grayson, who lowered them so I could see them.
“H-how?” My voice came out shaky.
One photo was of Grayson showering at the end of practice. You couldn’t see much except his naked back, but it was him. The rest of the showers were empty, and he was smack-dab in the middle. The second Polaroid was of Cruz talking with Big Dog, but that wasn’t the bad part. It was the envelope between them that said more than any words could. It could be considered incriminating evidence. The last photo was the worst of all, because it meant the stalker had access to everything about us. At one point, they had tapped our belongings and violated the sanctity of our homes. It was taken from a corner of Micah’s tree house, while he was deep inside of me.
“Why are they doing this?”
22
GRAYSON
Istudied the three photos, my mind going at a hundred miles an hour. For the first time since Halloween, I felt as if I were in control. It was like I was back on the ice, instantly calculating and dismissing a hundred different scenarios. Something in my brain had clicked. I was fucking done with this asshole trying to scare us.
“The envelope.” I stared at Cruz with my arms folded over my chest. “Explain.”
“Payment from Big Dog for services rendered.” He said it in a bored tone, but I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw. “It’s not important. We need to know how it got here.”
Itwasimportant, but I let it go for now, because he was right about needing to know how it had ended up at the rink, with this creepy-as-fuck soundtrack mimicking Olivia and the intrusive photos.
I shot Cruz a look that said I wouldn’t be letting his comment go, and his mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Turning to Ava, who was wrapped in Micah’s arms, I dipped my head, pressing a kiss to her hair, then to Micah’s cheek. It was a kiss ofreassurance. Ava reached out to squeeze my forearm, and Micah gave me a small smile.
“Not good enough for a kiss, huh, Cross?”
This fucker.
Stepping right up to Cruz, I placed my mouth over his ear. “It has nothing to do with you being good enough. It’s to do with me being so fucking pissed at you for the shit you’ve done that I can barely stand to be around you without wanting to mess up your pretty face. Got it?”
When I drew back, I noticed his eyes were wide and dark, his nostrils flared as he exhaled harshly. “Got it,” he ground out.
“Good.” I turned back to the photos, but strong fingers wrapped around my wrist, hot breath skimming over my skin as Cruz’s face was suddenly way too close for comfort.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there.”
