Chapter 22: Chapter 22

“Hey, Dad, it’s me, again,” Mia says with a smile engraved on her face. “Today is the annual Summer Soiree and this year I can obviously attend because I’m a senior.”

She paces in her room, looking at her white Air Dior sneakers, watching each step.

“I swore I’d never break my streak. I haven’t attended a school function in years and Braidwood has plenty of them. My last year wouldn’t be any different…until Akin.

“I was going to leave this town and never look back, just like my daddy did. Except I have a reason for wanting to leave.”

“Mia!” Irene hollers from downstairs. “Akin is here.”

Serenity allays her indignation. “I love you, Dad…even in a hundred lifetimes and thousand different realities.”

She hangs up and rushes over to the vanity table to grab her white clutch bag with a gold chain. And she shoves her phone inside along with her invitation and does one last fit check.

The girl she sees in the mirror is someone she has missed dearly. She’s happy.

Mia’s hair is curled at the ends and held up in a simple updo. Two idle strands frame her face.

Mia lengthens her spine and straightens the lapel neck of her cropped blazer, beige with a rose-gold shimmer to the color with matching high-waisted split flare pants.

Her makeup is done differently with a light, glossy natural color palette, accessorizing with gold hoops, matching the gold-faded necklace.

“Mia!”

“I’m coming!”

She whirls around and dashes out of her room, then slows her speed when she comes to the staircase.

Mia descends with conjured grace, emerging to see her mom and Akin standing in the central open space between the dining room, living room, kitchen, and the narrow foyer to their rear.

Mia scans him from head to toe, her smile reaching its limit.

Akin is attired in a fitted white, long-sleeved dress shirt with smart black trousers, paired with black and white Nike Air Force 1 kicks.

But what attracts her eye is the identical gold necklace, the pendant that is the other half of the broken heart. And Mia points at it.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It is, and it took me at least an hour to find it.” He glances down and holds it out. “Mine is ‘Friend.’ Which is yours again?”

She lifts it from her chest without looking. “Best.”

Curiosity closes the gap between them, and they extend their pendants to the other. Once they're close enough, the magnets call, and the halves jump from their fingertips to fit together.

Two broken halves of a heart that are now one. Akin’s eyes flick up to look into her eyes, Mia’s pulse quickens, her smile glowing.

A flash of white follows a ~ka-chick~ sound.

Irene lowers her iPhone from her face with a guilty smile. “Did I ruin the moment?”

“It wasn’t a ~moment~. And just for that, we’re not taking any more pictures.”

“Good with me,” she says with a chime of victory in her tone. “This picture is now my new wallpaper.”

“Argh. Let’s go, Akin.”

Akin clasps his hands in front of him. “Nice seeing you again, Ms. Trinket. Is there a particular time you want her back by?”

“Today, let’s just say she’s Cinderella, got it?”

“Copy that.”

He and Mia exit the house and Irene follows to watch from the porch. A white Grand Cherokee is parked in the driveway.

Akin opens the door to the Jeep. Mia passes him a grateful smile as she climbs inside. Akin rounds the hood, waving his last goodbye to her mom and she waves back warmly. Akin hops in the driver’s seat.

Shortly the Jeep pulls out and they make their way to wine country.

“You psyched?”

“Why would I be?” She crosses one leg over the other, gazing out of the window. “Parties and events are where you shine, star boy. Not me.”

“If I have to choose between being scorned by all those white people versus being sucked up to?” His head sways over to her to hand her an obvious look. “I’ll choose the latter.

“Saying you’re close to everyone just means you are close to no one. Those people aren’t really my friends, I know that.”

“Does Brett know that?”

He gives her a reproving look. “Lay off Brett. He can be a prick but he’s loyal, just like Ethan. And you? Who do you hang with nowadays?”

Mia faces him with an ironic look. “No one.”

“Come on, there must be someone.”

“Does the school counselor count?”

Akin frowns at her inquisitively. “Doctor Jo? Are you serious?”

“I am. Unlike the rest of you, I didn’t have the luxury of just shunning the past. I was stuck there for most of my life. I couldn’t let anyone else in, I didn’t even want to.”

Akin’s thumb drums the wheel thoughtfully.

Mia throws her gaze out of her window. “Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize for being honest. I guess we all have different ways of coping. And I like distractions. Soccer is my biggest one, the escapism of it…”

Mia tucks one curly strand behind her ear. “Any plans for next year?”

“I’ve been scouted,” he shares, sparing her frequent looks. “Got some good opportunities, like a fully paid scholarship to a varsity abroad. Either way, my story here in Braidwood is coming to an end.”

“So is mine,” she says with a sad smile. “It’s what kept me going.

“I’ve already applied to some universities”—she bursts into a short laugh—“far away, the furthest from here as possible.”

Akin finds himself laughing too. “As long as we still keep in touch this time, it’s all good.”

Mia looks over at him. Her gaze drops, then goes back up, slowly. “Bet.”

The two travel toward the mountain range, a carpet of vineyards placed beneath its feet. The deluxe country club crests the crown of a lofty hill, acting as a visual point of reference on the golf course.

At the main gate, they are directed to the restaurant side of the club. The Jeep is a white dot winding up its waist until they reach the parking lot brimming with other luxury vehicles belonging to Braidwood pupils.

Mia undoes her seatbelt.

“Stay here.”

He unclips his and pops the door open. Mia frowns but pauses.

Akin reappears on the other side of her door and he opens it for her.

“My lady.”

Mia snorts and slips out. Together they make their way to the entrance.

The rest of the students are garbed in exotic fabrics, entering in pairs, most of them hand-in-hand.

Akin leans in toward her. “Should we be holding hands?”

Mia snorts a laugh. And she hooks her arm with his, mirroring his grin.

“That works too.”

The pristinely uniformed staff welcomes them. The new indoor-outdoor dining area is adjacent to the club’s existing dining room, connected by a series of tall folding glass doors for easy access.

The expressive oversized black steel roof has a distinct pattern of interlocking vines producing an all-sided canopy.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offer generous views over the golf course and its surroundings, westering light bathing the wood.

Tables and chairs are set up in groups and pairs on either side of the restaurant with the middle reserved for dancing and the DJ booth.

“Wow, super fancy.”

Akin picks up the pamphlets of the program lists on the stands. He skims over it and hands it to her. And Mia takes it, her eyes darting over the concerningly long list.

“I’m not playing golf.”

Akin laughs. “We’re at a country club,;of course there were going to be dress-friendly activities. And it’s lucky you’re not wearing one.”

His eyes take her in fully. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your mother, but you look ~incredible~.”

“You don’t clean up too bad yourself, star boy.”

An hour later everyone who needs to be there has arrived, and the dance is at full swing.

Mrs. Jefferson, along with student body president Alister King, opens up the evening with a speech and a rundown of the evening, followed by an empty update of Keila’s case and a moment of silence in her honor.

Mia feels sick with anger.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers furiously. “They’re acting like she’s dead.”

“I know.” Akin places a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“So how long do we have to be here?”

Akin chides her with a look. “We just got here, Mia.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, well, I’m hungry.”

“Then let’s get some snacks.”

They meander through the glittering crowd to the buffet table, appetizers layered on silver-tiered stands. Alarmed looks steal across their faces, unable to identify the finger foods before them.

“And I thought your mom’s restaurant was boujee.”

Akin grins at her, something pilfers his gaze—he looks up. A lonesome Opal makes her way to the other end of the buffet table, going for the collection of still water bottles.

En route, a pungent stare derails her, and she looks straight, connecting her gaze to Akin.

“Hey,” he says distractedly. “Look who it is.”

Mia swivels around.

Akin approaches her, and she comes to him.

Opal is wearing a red dress with a white polka dot print. The butterfly sleeves are short with shirred, ruffled trim. A symmetrical wrap tie is knotted in a neat bow at her waist, the ruby red matching her vibrant lipstick.

She has left her ebony tresses free, waves tumbling down her shoulders and back.

“Akin,” she greets him cheerfully, “hey, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he says with equal enthusiasm. “And you?”

“Good,” she says with an awkward giggle. “Are you here alone?”

Akin shakes his head with a foolish grin. He looks over his shoulder and ushers Mia forward, his hand on the small of her back.

“Mia,” she says with an unclear emotion.

“Opal,” she mimics in a way that feeds into unnecessary tension.

Opal gives her an insolent smile. “It’s been a long time, old friend.”

“Not really. I saw you when Mrs. Venus set up some kind of invasive reunion for Keila.”

“Ah, Yes, but this time is different.” She takes an exaggerated step back to gesture to her. “But now I~ see~ you for the first time. And you look good.”

“Oh, please, have you seen yourself, Snow White?” She outstretches her hand. “I’m not a fan of dresses but yours is mad cute.”

“~Aww,~” Akin drags out. “You two are bonding.”

“Shut up,” they say simultaneously.

“Are you here alone?” Mia asks.

“No, my ~date~ is late. Something came up.”

“What is this stuff?”

Akin directs the attention to the assortment of starters. Ground beef tourtières in creamy pastry cups, shrimp tartlets, morsels of crispy flaky salad tapas filled with avocado and sweet crab, and Greek veggie tartlets.

Mia snags an oven-fried oyster. She samples a bite, and her eyes widen. “This is really good.”

Akin takes one and bites off half, then finishes it with one inhale.

Opal stifles a laugh. “That good?”

He takes another, nodding hungrily. “Try one.”

“No, thank you.”

“Feasting without the guest of honor?”

Aries eases up to them with sure-footed purpose, a gait that speaks of importance, clothed in an all-black outfit that grips his heart-achingly lithe and powerful body.

His suit blazer is unbuttoned, exposing his muscled chest, nothing beneath it but a silver chain.

Aries runs his hand through his sleek midnight strands, pushing the black ripples back from his face. His hair is freshly trimmed, the sides flaunting a low fade.

“Is that…are you…” Akin says, munching slowly on half an oyster.

“Aries?” His name falling out of Mia’s ajar lips.

He sidles up to Opal’s flank, the intensity of his bearing magnifies his considerable height with a presence that boasts a born leader.

Opal looks up and welcomes him with a smile. His eyes rake over her with sensual slowness.

“Sorry I’m late.” He steals another full-body glance at her. “You look beautiful.”

“~Whoa~.” Akin swallows the last bite and waves a bumbling hand. “You’re her date? ~You’re dating~?”

“What?” Opal shrieks.

“No,” Aries answers flatly.

Mia’s finger darts between them. “How did this happen?”

Aries slips out his adorned hand to point at her and Akin. “How did ~that~ happen?”

Akin makes a wild gesture to them all. “How is ~this~ happening?”

Opal and Mia burst into a glee-giving laugh.

Akin’s eyes coast to Aries. “How you been, man?” His gaze breaks from his piercing eyes to take in the rest of him. “How did you two link up?”

“Been out of the Badlands,” Aries says dully, making it seem like their reunion was an uninteresting coincidence.

“Came out here for work. The company I work for has shipments shuttling into Braidwood. And I bumped into Opal not so long ago.”

She casts him a look, astounded by how easy and quickly he conjured a lie. And in the background, the DJ occupies his booth and starts remixing, starting a fist-pumping beat.

“Glad you did, it’s good to see you,” Akin says, dazzling him with his megawatt smile.

“Ye.” Aries shoves his hands into his pockets. “And you, I hear you a beast on the field.”

Akin holds his chin, stroking it awkwardly. “Nah, man.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Opal waves him off. “Akin is one of the best on the team.”

“You can watch him play yourself,” Mia says. “His next home game is with Northfield next week, I think.”

Aries glances back at her, only now noticing her. “I thought I’d never see you in any other color but black.”

She squints at him with a smile. “What does that even mean?”

“You were such a tomboy.” His eyes drop to her sneakers and his brows quirk. “But I guess some things never change—not completely.”

Akin frees an amused breath and reaches for another oyster. “This is so unreal,” he says and takes a bite, freeing a moan. “Bro, you gotta try these things.”

Disgust rots his face. “What is it?”

“It’s good, on God.”

Aries takes one, sniffs at it and bites off a piece. His eyes widen.

Akin points his half-eaten oyster at him. “Right?”

“Did you try this?”

Opal shakes her head. Aries offers him hers, and reluctantly she tilts to him to take a bite, and then he finishes it. Akin and Mia trade knowing looks, giving them suggestive looks.

“You two sure you not dating?”

“The only thing I’m sure of is that you’re getting on my nerves, Ballo.”

Opal giggles, having heartening flashbacks, the past making parallels with the present.

She perks up at the sound of a song.

Symphonies shift the atmosphere into something amorous but energetic, emotional expression through every octave, enriched by the pitch range and tonal quality of the percussion instruments.

“Time to dance,” Opal sings.

“Nah.” Aries shoves his hands back into his pants pockets. “I don’t dance.”

“I do.”

Akin outstretches a hand to Opal. She breaks into a flattered smile and places her hand on his and he whisks away to the dance floor, laughing. Aries strolls forward to stand beside Mia, watching them from the sidelines together.

“You’re a good liar,” Mia says, her eyes following Akin and Opal.

“Only a liar would know that.”

They share a look and then a smile.

Aries looks away, his gaze fastening on Opal.

“Is it weird being back in Braidwood?”

“No,” he says, seeing no one in the room but the three of them. “Coming home can never be weird.”

She pivots to face him fully. “Weren’t you the one that hated Braidwood, and everyone in it?”

“At least four people are exempted from that.”

“Yeah?”

He wheels on his heels to face her, looking down at her with a no-nonsense look. “I’ve told many lies. None of y’all have heard them.”

“It’s ~really~ good to see you, Aries,” she says, unable to stave off the emotions.

“I didn’t think I ever would again. But I’m glad I have,” she says and her gaze slips down to his silver chain ornamenting his sinewed chest.

“Hey.” Two fingers motion to his eyes. “My eyes are up here.”

Face aflame, she looks away instantly. “Dude, why aren’t you wearing something underneath?”

“It’s hot.”

“Aries!” Opal calls out from the dance floor. “You owe me this dance.”

Mia looks over at her. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

Aries makes his start to Opal, and he shoulders into her purposefully. Mia pushes him forward in playful retribution, and he sends her a rebelling smirk over his shoulder.

Akin passes him to drag a squirming Mia over to the dance floor.

Aries sets his eyes on Opal, holding her gaze for a long, tense moment. Both are mesmerized and unsettled by his stare, his singular focus on her.

“I can’t dance.”

Opal shrugs.

“Neither can I.” She takes hold of her dress, swishing it teasingly as she circles him once then stops once she’s in front of him again. “But we can learn together. Come on, it’s easy.”

She reaches out and takes his wrists to place his hands on her waist, awkwardly outstretched. And she places her hands on his stalwart shoulders with enough space between them to fit another person.

“And now we just…sway.”

Aries frowns, his eyes gesturing to the enormous gap between them.

Without warning, he pulls her flush against his body; she stumbles into his embrace with a startled gasp, her hands on his chest, feeling every muscle taut and hard beneath his sumptuously soft skin.

Stars explode in his chest at the skin-to-skin contact, thrilled by the electric sensation.

Opal finds it baffling how callused, tough hands can be so strong and gentle all the same.

The music swells to an upbeat symphony, tempting bodies to frolic on the dance floor.

His one hand lifts to run down her arm, grazing her skin, electricity sizzling through the passage of his touch before he takes her hand and holds it aloft. His other arm coils around her waist.

“So you can dance?”

“No, but I know how to hold you right.”

He leads her into a waltz, and she quickly falls into step with him.

Aries whirls them around the dance floor, moving in circles as he twirls her around and she performs a perfect pirouette with their entwined hands held above her head.

He reels her back in, giggling, and hoists her up into the air, whirling around, their eye contact unbreakable.

Aries lowers her carefully to the ground, and he dips her, waves of ebony whispering to the floor before he sweeps her up sharply, bringing her face so close to his that they share breaths.

“~Hmm~,” she moans happily. “So you’re good with your hands?”

“You’re still yet to discover that.”

Her heart flutters in her chest like a frightened bird in a cage.

A nimble force jostles into Aries, almost colliding with Opal. He whips around.

“I’m sorry about that,” Akin says with his hand on his heart. “But I’m glad I got your attention.”

“What for?”

“A dance.” He lays out his hand in his flourish. “If you dare.”

Aries throws a threatening finger in his face. “Get away from me, Ballo.”

Opal lets out a rolling laugh. “Now that I want to see.”

“I still can’t believe I’m seeing~ this,~” Akin says with exaggerated gestures to all of them.

That is the beautiful illusion of peace. For the calm only comes when the storm is near. And a storm of black descends upon the lavish country club.

A convoy of black Mercedes Benz G-Wagons speeds up the verdant hill to the top. Jax is up in front and the three vehicles stop at the foot of the widespread staircase.

The security guards exchange concerned looks. Both of them are weaponless, uniformed in all-white with only radios on them.

Jax exits and the rest of them pour out of the cars like a black flood. Jax makes hand signals for most of them to guard the outside while three of them follow him up the stairs.

Jax marches up with his black shirt undone halfway, exhibiting his collage of menacing tattoos. All of them are strapped, with pistols tucked away in their waistbands.

“Sorry sir, this is a private event.”

“I’ll only be a second,” Jax says with a voice like stones grinding together. “I’m here to fetch someone.”

The security guard jabs out his hand to halt him. Jax looks down at the hand pinned on his chest.

“I said this is a private event. I really doubt anyone in there knows you, ~sir.~”

In a nanosecond, Jax has his wrist, and he bends it at an unnatural angle, sounding a sickening crunch. The man doubles over with a pained groan, cuddling his broken wrist to his chest.

The other guard goes for Jax, who, with lightning-quick reflexes, blocks his strike and sends him staggering back with one push. Jax tries to go for another round but his entourage warns him against it with deadly glares.

“You can’t do this,” the guard yells, grabbing his radio. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Do that,” Jax says, sauntering inside the venue, followed by three hulking shadows.

The four of them post themselves at the entrance, overlooking the dancing throng.

And in their midst, they spot Aries standing by a raven-haired girl, next to a guy whose skin is as dark as her hair and a brunette in a gleaming beige suit.

Jax comes to a standstill, willing Aries to look at him with a thousand-yard stare.

Aries nods attentively to what those around him say, his gaze flits away before it fixes on Jax in the distance.

Opal watches his brows gather in a stormy frown. She follows his line of sight to four men enveloped in leather, every inch of them inked in tattoos.

“Aries?”

“I have to go,” he mutters.

“What, why?” Mia asks.

He ignores her question. “I’ll see you around.”

“It was nice catching up, man. Too bad it was too short.”

Akin lifts a hand, and Akin clasps it, pulling each other into a short bro hug.

“Your game next week.” Aries gives him a hard clap on the back. “I’ll see if I can drop by, aight? So you better win.”

Akin grins, nodding many times. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Aries…”

“I have to go,” he says to Opal with firm finality.

He goes in for a goodbye hug but she steps away from him, looking away, resentment emerging in her eyes.

Aries stares at her for a moment, remorse and reproach welding his expression. He accepts what he must and moves on, trading farewell nods with Mia and she offers him a faint smile.

They all stare after him as he makes his way out, engrossed by the tide of black that streams out of the venue.

When they reach outside, the security guards escort them out of the club as if they’re leaving on their demand.

Once they arrive at the base of the staircase, Aries signals for the rest to go on ahead but he grabs Jax’s bicep to stop him.

“You following me now?”

“I couldn’t find you.”

“Does it look like I need a babysitter?”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you. You weren’t answering your phone, and you always answer—or get back to me when you don’t. But nah, you too busy playing ~High School Musical~.”

The flames of anger lick at Aries. But today, his cold calm is heat resistant.

“I’m waiting for the reason for why you’re here”—his eyes skim over the convoy—“with backup.”

“We found the leaks.”

Aries steps forward, flames thawing the ice. ~“Leaks?”~

“Leaks,” Jax confirms with a grim nod. “It’s worse than we thought. It’s why I came out here the minute I saw you weren’t pickin’ up. This ain’t about some snitch, it’s about a new threat.”