Hooked (Harlequin Teen) (23 page)

On the front step, I inhaled a deep breath of the cool evening
air and pulled my sweater more tightly around my neck. Fall had finally
arrived.

I pulled my shoulders back and walked straight into the desert
toward answers and the end of Pecos Road.

I didn’t use the flashlight until I reached the desert wash
that ran perpendicular to Pecos Road. I knew the path by heart.

The edges of the wash were smooth and mostly flat, perfect for
walking. The bottoms were still moist from heavy September monsoons and bounced
with reflections from the moon and stars. Only my footsteps and breathing
competed with the desert surrounding me: coyotes howling near the base of the
Estrella Mountains, jackrabbits rustling underneath sage and the occasional hoot
owl from the top of a saguaro. As familiar as my own hands. Nothing unusual.

The closer I got to Pecos Road, the easier it was to see the
faint orange glow of the Phoenix streetlights. I began to hum and swing my arms
forward, the flashlight making yellow half circles across the desert.

My heartbeat leaped when I spotted the bright white headlights
of a single vehicle parked at the end of Pecos Road.

It’s Ryan. And he’s early.

I stopped, felt a smile fill my face and signaled my arrival
with a couple of flicks from my flashlight.

Ryan waited just like last time, brightening the last stretch
of my path with his headlights. He flashed his brights when I signaled with my
flashlight.

I began to jog, jumping over a line of low sage bushes as if
they were track hurdles. Anxious, I ran straight into the light beams, unable to
bite back my smile.

Breathless from running, I stopped and waved one arm overhead.
Ryan tooted the Jeep’s horn and flashed the headlights one last time.

I beamed into the headlights.

But then the Jeep began to move down the pavement and cross
over a broken piece of barbed wire.

My happiness froze. “Don’t!” I yelled, lifting my palms and
sprinting forward as fast as I could run. He had to stop. I had already warned
him about the Tribal Police. Sure, our tribe might not have had a whole fleet,
but if Ryan got caught driving on Rez land, he would get arrested for
trespassing and my parents would finally have a reason to ground me for the
first time in my entire life, especially when the police would inform them that
I was meeting a boy they’d never met in the middle of the dark desert. Not
cool.

Despite my warnings, the Jeep didn’t stop. I thought maybe it
was because I was too far away. Maybe he didn’t see my flashlight. Or maybe he
was more anxious to see me than I thought.

I halted at the end of the wash and watched helplessly as his
tires squealed when they left the pavement. They ground into the soft dirt,
lifting a smokelike dust cloud over the desert.

I lifted my hands to shield my eyes. I tasted his dust.

“Stop!” I screamed but the Jeep’s engine drowned out my voice.
“Stop!” I yelled again, squinting through my fingers, but the headlights raced
straight for me.

The motor revved.

Instead of slowing, oddly, the Jeep charged faster through the
desert. “What are you doing, Ryan?” I muttered.

My pulse began to pound at my temples as the headlights got
closer. I took a step back, and then another, as the Jeep’s tires ground harder
and faster into the dirt. They pointed straight in my direction.

Somewhere deep inside me, my legs told me what to do before my
brain took over.

My flashlight slipped from my hand and landed in the dirt. I
didn’t stop to pick it up. Instead, I began to run backward, my feet heavy as my
heels dug into the ground.

But then I moved faster.

Every nerve, every muscle in my body sprang into survival.
Nausea built deep in my throat, but I swallowed it back. Something felt very
wrong.

I turned and raced back into the darkest part of the desert,
away from the Phoenix streetlights and away from Pecos Road, as fast as my legs
could carry me. Most of all, I ran away from the bright headlights. If I didn’t,
I was certain that the front tires would mow right over me like I didn’t
exist.

Way out here, no one but my ancestors would ever know.

Chapter 42
Ryan

WHEN RILEY
RETURNED HOME AFTER DINNER,
I was sprawled across the couch in the
family room, my legs crossed at the ankles, parked in front of the television
and chilling.

I watched the screen with my iPod blaring—anything to stop
my brain from drifting to painful places.

At least things would be different once I got to Uncle
Mark’s.

Uncle Mark was Dad’s younger brother but different in all
the ways that counted. Sometimes I had a hard time believing they were related.
Anyway, he always told me that I could visit whenever I wanted. He knew what Dad
was like. “Your father is a great guy, but he expects everyone to be as driven
as he is. Don’t hold it against him,” he had told me once.

When I’d called Uncle Mark last night to ask if I could
finish my school year in San Francisco, he’d said yes without hesitation, almost
as if he’d been expecting my call. Mom and Dad had barely put up a fight, which
was rare for them. In fact, I’d sensed relief when I’d told them about it. Maybe
a break would be good.

And now everybody was happy. Mostly.

In my periphery, I watched Riley tiptoe into the room, all
catlike. She tossed her pink gym bag at my feet. This was a little game we’d
always played. Riley tried to scare me, and I let her think she succeeded.

“Hey!” I yelled, mostly for effect, but then I smirked when
she stuck out her tongue. I pulled out my earbuds.

“How’s your sore throat?” She pouted at me innocently and
then faked a cough before plopping into the chair across from me. Gold-and-red
pillows swished around her, and one fell to the floor as she drew her knees to
her chest.

I bit back a grin. “Shut up and leave me alone.”

“Can’t,” she said. “It’s my mission in life to bug you.”

“Well, you get a big star. Where’ve you been?”

“Dance practice.” She chomped hard on a piece of gum. “I’m
starved. Where’s Mom?”

“Where do you think?”

Riley sighed. “You hungry?”

“Already ate,” I said. “There’s leftover lasagna from last
night in the fridge. Mom left a note.”

“Humph.” Riley blinked at her wristwatch. “Hey.” She leaned
forward in her chair. “Aren’t you going to be late?” She tapped her watch with a
fingertip.

I chuckled. “For what?” Unless someone put a stick of
dynamite underneath the couch, I had no plans to change positions until Dad got
home.

But Riley’s eyes narrowed at me, all irritated. “Please tell
me you are
not
going to blow her off.”

“Blow her off? Blow
who
off?”

“Your note.”

“What note?” I sat up. “Riley, what are you talking about?”
I reached for the remote and switched off the television.

“Didn’t you leave a note for Fred this morning?”

“Noo,” I said, stretching out the syllable.

Her voice rose an octave. “Seriously? You seriously didn’t
give Fred a note telling her to meet you tonight?”

“No,” I said again, feeling my eyes widen. I stood up.
“Where was I supposed to meet her?” Never mind that my little sister could carry
on a normal conversation with Fred Oday while I messed it up every chance I
got.

Riley stared across at me, her face turning paler. “She said
something about...” Her brow furrowed.

“Where, Riley?” I stood over her. “
Think.
Where was I supposed
to meet her?”

Her voice wavered. “I think she said something about...Pecos
Road?” She winced like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“What time?” My breathing quickened.

Riley glanced down at her wristwatch. “Five minutes
ago.”

Without another word, I sprinted into the kitchen for my car
keys.

“I’m coming with you!” Riley followed me into the
garage.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. And you can’t stop me.”

Riley climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep, and I
didn’t stop her because there was no time to argue.

The garage door opened, and my foot was already on the
accelerator. “Come on, come on!” I told the rearview mirror. “Open!”

“Your seat belt, Ryan,” Riley instructed, strangely
calm.

I latched the seat belt across my chest with one hand and
steered with the other. As soon as the door opened, I floored the Jeep to the
end of the driveway. The rear tires squealed the second they touched the
street.

Then we flew out of our cul-de-sac and onto the main road.
Riley didn’t make a sound or threaten to tell Mom about my crazy driving. It
wouldn’t matter anyway. My foot cemented itself to the accelerator.

“What’s wrong?” Riley broke the silence as soon as we turned
onto Pecos Road. “Are you going to tell me?”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy grinding my foot against the
pedal and gripping the steering wheel as if I could rip it from the column.

Riley turned sideways, her voice wavering again. “Is this my
fault? Did I do something wrong?”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy picturing Seth Winter’s face
at the end of my fist. Or worse.

“Please, Ryan.” Riley’s voice began to crack. “Tell me. Tell
me what I did wrong. Is Fred going to be okay?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said through gritted
teeth. “But I did.”

“What do you mean? How?”

I sighed inwardly. It would take all night to explain.

We sped the rest of the way down Pecos Road in silence, the
plastic windows slapping in the wind. Thankfully the road was mostly deserted,
but it still felt like we were going too slow. At last the Phoenix streetlights
ended and the desert turned as black as ink, all except for two round, bright
lights. They kept turning in circles.

“What’s that?” Riley hissed, peering forward against the
windshield.

The lights were well off the street on the other side of the
barbed wire. As we got closer, the lights turned almost yellow from the dirt
clouds swirling around them. It was like watching candles flicker in the middle
of a tornado.

“That’s a truck,” I said, breathing hard.

“What’s a truck doing so far off the road? And isn’t that
Indian land?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I yelled, “Hold on!”

Before Riley could grip the strap above her door, my foot
slammed harder against the accelerator until all four tires left the smooth
pavement.

The Jeep sailed headfirst into the dirt.

Chapter 43
Fred

COLD SWEAT
TRICKLED
behind my ears, but that didn’t stop me from running.

Panting till my ribs ached, I ran alongside the path next to
the wash, the same way I’d come, but this time my shoes sank into the soft dirt.
It was like running in slow motion.

The heaviness in my step didn’t slow the truck, though. It only
drove faster. A stereo blared from inside the cab, heavy metal with angry
electric guitar. The closer it got, the louder it became, its engine grinding
over the sound.

The headlights washed over me with blinding light.

And the lights only got brighter.

Finally the beams blanketed my body like a net, impossible to
outrun. I looked for places to hide, but the desert was barren and as flat as
cardboard. It would have been easier to outrun a sunrise.

When my heart threatened to leap out of my chest, I fell to my
knees in the dirt. I could run no more. I gasped for air, shielding my head with
both arms, heaving in bits of dirt with each breath. Dust covered the air,
covered me. It filled my ears and nose. It stung my eyes.

But the truck and the music still barreled for me.

I screamed as the truck skidded alongside me, its front tires
missing my body by inches before it started to circle me once, then twice, like
I was an animal in a rodeo. Dirt swirled everywhere, turning the headlights
hazy, choking me, hiding the moon.

Still shielding my face, I tucked low to the ground, dusted
with dirt. I peered through my fingers at the settling dust as the truck made
another turn. I finally got a good look. It was a silver pickup, the monster
kind that looked like it could tow an elephant.

Then I saw the driver’s face.

My body shivered with more fear than I’d ever known. His eyes
glared at me through the open window, laughing.

“Seth,” I exhaled, dragging the name out of my mouth. A sharp
pain shot through my chest, a mixture of dread and too much adrenaline.

When the dust finally settled and we were able to lock eyes,
Seth turned off the stereo, and the desert turned silent again, except for the
grumble from his engine. “Freaked ya, didn’t I?” He said it loudly. As if he
liked it. “And you thought I was Ryan.” His lips turned downward into a fake
pout. “Sorry. He couldn’t make it tonight. He’s out with his girlfriend.”

I didn’t know whether to cry or scream, but neither would be
helpful. No one would hear me in the middle of the desert. I tried to stand, but
my knees shook from running and fear. I fell back onto one knee after my first
try.

This pleased Seth.

He tossed his head back and laughed while I struggled to speak,
struggled to breathe.

Finally, with all my strength I said, “What do you w-want?” My
tongue dragged over my lips, tasting a layer of dust clinging to my lip
gloss.

“What do
I
w-w-want?” Seth
stuttered. His smile slowly morphed into something subhuman. His glare turned
sharper beneath his backward baseball cap. All of his pale features glowed
sickly green against the dashboard lights. He slapped the side of his truck with
his hand. “Finally. Someone asks what
I
want.” He
paused to smack his lips, like he had to give my question serious thought. “I’ll
tell you what
I
want, you freaking Indian,” he
snapped.

I swallowed, hard.

“I want you to stop hanging around Ryan—and his sister, too!”
he said. “Neither one can stand the sight of you. Can’t you take a hint?”

I nodded, mostly so that he’d leave me alone.

“And tell your boy Tracy that this isn’t over. Not by a long
shot. He can’t sucker punch Ryan and get away with it. Next time we’ll be
ready.”

I nodded again. If I told Sam, Trevor, Peter and the others, I
hated to think what they’d do to Seth Winter. Not that Seth wouldn’t deserve it.
“I’ll tell Sam,” I said, but the words stuck in my dry throat. I wasn’t sure if
he heard me.

With my pulse racing, I slowly moved my eyes to peer for the
path alongside the wash. When Seth had chased me in circles, I’d gotten all
turned around. I didn’t know whether I faced north or south.

“Are you deaf, too?” he snarled, threatening me with another
rev of the accelerator.

I jumped at the engine’s growl. Then I nodded numbly, wishing
that I could stop my legs from shaking.

“Good,” he said. “And one other thing...” His hand dragged over
his chin.

I watched him warily, waiting for the chase to begin all over
again. “What?” I said, still breathing heavily. “Anything.” My answer pleased
him again, just like I thought it would.

Seth grinned. “I want you to quit the golf team. Or this isn’t
over.” More rage filled his face. “You shouldn’t be on the team. The coach
should never have let you just walk on.” He spat at my feet.

I didn’t flinch from his spit. And my eyes couldn’t leave
his.

“I had to try out. Why not you? Where do you get off?”

Just as I was about to speak, another car approached behind me,
its engine grinding across the desert just as Seth’s had. I glanced quickly over
my shoulder. Two tiny lights appeared in the distance.

They got closer.

The driver flashed his lights, and my heart started to race
faster again. I looked back at Seth. His face turned even paler in the
dashboard’s glow, almost ghostlike, as the headlights approached. He squinted
into the distance.

“What the...?” Seth muttered, sitting straighter.

As he studied the approaching car, I began to creep closer to
the wash. First just an inch and then a handful more. I could see the path. The
small bit of water at the wash’s bottom sparkled in the glow of Seth’s
headlights.

I wondered if Seth noticed, but he was too fixated on the
approaching car.

If I ran alongside the wash, it would take me straight
home.

Home.
How I wanted to be there.

“Hold up,” Seth growled as I began to slip away. He revved the
engine, warning me. “We’re not done yet!”

But the other car came closer. It raced across the desert, its
engine growing louder. The headlights bounced wildly against the darkness, and
the driver never slowed.

Seth answered with a rev from his truck’s engine. He swallowed,
hard, his earlier bravado fading.

I chanced another small step in the direction of the wash. Then
another. I didn’t care who was driving the other car. I hoped it was the police.
That would teach Seth Winter. The Tribal Police didn’t look too kindly upon
trespassers, especially at night. Especially ones chasing girls for sport.

The toe of my tennis shoe finally reached the top of the wash.
I twisted it into the dirt, bracing my stance. Then I turned south.

And I started to run.

But Seth saw me.

I heard his truck shift into Drive. Within moments, his
headlights outran me. Over the engine’s roar, I could hear his laugh. It filled
my ears and polluted the sky.

He’s crazy,
I thought.
Seth Winter is truly crazy.

But his laughter was quickly drowned out by the engine from the
other car. Instead of one set of headlights chasing behind me, there were two.
Still running along the wash, I squinted over my shoulder through a new dust
cloud. The other car was right behind Seth, flashing its brights and blasting
its horn. The sky grew thicker with dirt and swirling sand, making breathing
difficult. It was like being inside the center of a dust storm.

Seth moved slightly to one side, coaxed by the front end of the
other car. That’s when I realized that the other car wasn’t hunting me. It was
after Seth.

And it wasn’t the Tribal Police. There weren’t any red lights
or sirens, but the second car wedged Seth away from me, forcing his truck into a
ditch.

Both cars finally thudded to an abrupt stop, the rear wheels of
Seth’s truck wheezing in midair. The other car skidded alongside it.

Gasping, I stopped running and braced my hands against my
knees, watching the cars through the settling dust. It was like watching a
nightmare, the muted colors and sounds, the bright lights, the slow motion of
the desert, the sound of my own breathing—all pushing against my temples. Chaos
and confusion.

The second driver got out of his car. Without shutting his
door, he stormed over to Seth’s pickup. He kicked the driver’s door with his
boot, hard. “What the hell are you doing?” he screamed at Seth. “What is
wrong
with you?”

It was Ryan. But I was too numb to care.

“Berenger?” Seth’s voice sounded suddenly small, his laughter
gone. “You ran me into a ditch? Get me out of here,” he yelled up at him. Ryan
ignored him.

Instead, he turned to me as I cowered alongside the wash.

“Fred?” Ryan called out. He shielded his eyes in the corner of
his elbow from the settling dust. “Fred? Are you all right?” He walked slowly at
first, but then he started to jog when I didn’t answer.

“Fred?” Another voice. A softer one. “Fred? It’s me. Riley. Are
you okay? I’m so sorry, Fred!” she said. “This is all my fault.”

I swallowed back the tears that burned my throat. I couldn’t
speak, even if I wanted to.

All I wanted to do was go home.

I turned south and coaxed my legs to run again.

“Fred!” Ryan called behind me. “Wait!”

But I ran faster. Ryan couldn’t catch me. I knew every part of
this desert. Ryan only knew this side of Pecos Road from the window of his
Jeep.

I kept running until my breathing drowned out Ryan’s voice.
Before long, the headlights and the voices grew so distant that it was as if
they had never been chasing me at all.