The Lovely Reckless(77)

“No. He was using me to find Marco.” Saying it out loud makes me feel hollow inside.

Lex falls back against her seat. “You are shitting me.”

“It gets worse. I told Dad about Marco’s father and the debt, hoping he would understand and help him.”

“Get to the part about why you broke up.”

I take a trembling breath. “Dad offered me a deal. He’d let Marco walk if I promised to stop seeing him.”

“Is that even legal?”

I nod. “Undercover cops do it all the time to build cases. If Dad or Tyson think they can get information that will benefit the case by letting someone go, or if they believe that following the person might lead them to a criminal who is higher up the ladder, they can let the person go without charging them.”

“Even if they already arrested the guy?”

“In Maryland, a police officer has a year and a day to charge someone for a misdemeanor, and years for a felony. Some felonies don’t even have a statute of limitations. I looked it up. As long as the person hasn’t been charged, the cop can let them walk.”

She narrows her eyes. “Screw your father. We’ll figure out a way for you and Marco to see each other.”

“I tried that already, remember? I can’t risk it. If Dad catches us, he’ll use what he already has on Marco and charge him.”

Cars trickle into the parking lot—Mustangs and custom cars with street racing modifications in Lot B, and Land Cruisers and luxury cars in Lot A.

In the far corner of Lot A, only six spaces away, sunlight glints off the hood of a hunter-green Firebird. Deacon leans against the car, a black hood hiding his red baseball cap. He turns something between his fingers near his mouth—a toothpick, most likely. He’s facing Lex’s car and there’s no sign of Marco.

Lex scrunches her nose. “Why is Marco’s psycho friend watching us?”

Not us.

Me.

When Deacon realizes I see him, an unfriendly smile spreads slowly across his face.

“Does he go to school here?” Lex asks.

“No.”

A flash of yellow whips by, and Cruz’s GT-R pulls in next to Deacon’s car. Ava gets out and Cruz shoos her away. Cruz points at Deacon with her good hand. She’s not happy.

He alternates between grinning at Cruz like a mischievous kid and flashing me a wicked smile. The way his expression shifts in the space of a heartbeat gives me the creeps.

“Please tell me Cruz isn’t getting back together with Future Inmate 666 over there,” Lex says.

“That would be a no.”

Mr. Santiago charges down the steps of the main building in his signature turtleneck and pressed jeans. He shouts at Deacon, then speaks into his walkie-talkie. Deacon hops into his car, flips a quick U-turn, and speeds past us.

Cruz rushes over to the Fiat.

“What did he want?” I ask, getting out.

“I don’t know. But if Deacon finds out about your father…” Cruz looks around to make sure no one is nearby. “Just stay away from him. He usually only comes around if he’s looking for Marco or me. Him showing up for no reason, it’s—”

“Psychotic?” Lex closes her door and studies Cruz. “I can’t really see you two together. You seem too … what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Stable?” Cruz offers.

“That’s the one.” Lex checks her phone for the tenth time and bites her lip. One look at her expression tells me Abel still hasn’t texted.

“How are you holding up?” Cruz asks me.

I just shake my head. “Is Marco okay?”

Cruz stares at the ground.

“Tell me the truth.” I hold my breath.

“He’s having a rough time.”

Lex loops her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder as we cross the street. “Today is going to suck.”

It’s still early and the halls are empty except for a few people sitting on the floor studying. I lean against my locker, wishing the day was already over.

“Shit.” Cruz stares down the hall.

Marco heads in our direction. His beautiful tan skin has a pale cast, and dark smudges from oil streak his clothes, as if he raced last night and didn’t bother to change.

I catch a glimpse of Chief standing at the vending machine not far behind Marco.

“Frankie? Are you okay? Lex said you were sick,” Marco calls out.

“She’s fine,” Lex says. “I told you a hundred times that it was just a cold.”

“Can we talk?” he pleads. “I tried to call you, but it kept going straight to voice mail.”

No one moves.

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Chief heads in our direction. “Everything all right?”

Marco moves closer, and Cruz darts in front of him. She rests her hands on his chest. “You’re only making it worse.”

He jerks back. “How can it get any worse? She left me.”

Cruz grabs his arm. “Have you been drinking?” she whispers.

Marco pulls away. “What difference does it make?”

“A big one to the people who care about you,” Chief says. “And everyone else on the road.”