Crew

  We waited, but Race didn't yell. If he had, duct tape soon would've covered his mouth. The guys pulled him up into a sitting position in the middle of the bed. Cross and Zellman stood back, but they were ready on either side, prepared to jump in if Race tried to bolt.

  "I'm not going to yell." Race eyed the roll of tape in Jordan's hands. "I know what will happen then."

  With that confirmation, Jordan stepped aside.

  "We just want to talk to you," I said from behind them. "We're not here to hurt you."

  Cross grunted. "Unless we have to."

  Race started to lift his head to scowl at Cross, but I stepped forward.

  I was the speaker this time.

  I was the visual too. We wanted Race to see all the bruises on me. We wanted him to see what his cousin had done and yet, only a few hours later, I was standing here.

  We wanted him to see what I'd endured and we would still come after him.

  The scowl was forgotten. Race stilled, seeing me, and he cursed. "Fuck."

  Zellman jostled next to me. "Shut up and listen to her."

  The shock dwindled. Race's features clouded with anger. He started to struggle, trying to get free. "My mom went to get ice. She'll be back--"

  "Your mom is getting shit-faced in Fallen Crest. She'll probably sleep in some old rich dude's bed tonight," Jordan countered. He folded his arms over his chest, nodding to me. "Listen to what she's got to say, and then we can go. No harm, no foul here."

  Race's glare didn't go anywhere, but I didn't expect it to.

  "You told me you came here to fight and because your parents are getting a divorce," I began.

  This wasn't new to the guys, and no one reacted. All wore stone-cold expressions.

  Zellman added, "We don't believe you're trying to become our sidekick because Drake told you to do that. That's weak, man."

  I kept going as if Z hadn't said a word. "You keep stepping in. All our fights, you're there helping. We don't trust Normals, and while we're grateful for what you did, we can't let it go anymore. We have to know the real reason for it."

  "You doing all this cause you're sweet on Bren?" Jordan asked. "Is this all for pussy?"

  "Fuck off!" I snapped at him.

  He lifted a shoulder. He didn't seem like he was sorry.

  "You think I'm doing this because I want in her pants?" Race asked.

  "Why are you doing it?" Cross lifted his chin, his eyes blazing.

  Race sat forward, his eyes glazed, like he wasn't even in the room at the moment. Then he lifted a shoulder like Jordan had done.

  "God. Fine. You guys are like bloodhounds. You want to know why I'm helping you?" He glared at all of us. "It's because I fucking hate my cousin. Okay? Got that? I hate my cousin. I hate his crew. I hate my uncle and my aunt. I hate how it's their fault that my parents are getting a divorce. I hate everything about their fucking world, and I want to destroy it all."

  I...hadn't expected that.

  "You're doing this because of your parents?"

  "My aunt had an affair with my dad--"

  "Then why the fuck are you here?"

  Race kept on like Jordan hadn't said a word. "--but my mom doesn't know. She knows my dad was cheating on her, and the last affair was the straw that broke the camel's back, you know? She used to find out who the women were, but not this last one. He kept her hidden."

  "How'd you find out?"

  Race turned to Zellman, his eyes narrowed. "Because I followed my dad, and I saw." His eyes flitted to me before finding a spot on the floor. It felt like he wasn't talking to us anymore. He was confessing, almost.

  "Our dads are brothers and my mom has no idea it was her sister-in-law who destroyed her marriage. I haven't been able to bring myself to tell her. She's got no one--like, no one no one. Gram and Gramps died a year ago. They didn't leave any inheritance to my mom, and she's got no friends. She never kept in contact with our other relatives."

  There was a beat of silence.

  "Shit," Jordan said.

  "Destroy your aunt by destroying her son, and that meant using us to do it." Cross' voice was soft. "Right?"

  Race looked over and swallowed. "Yeah. I mean, all of the other stuff wasn't exactly a lie. Drake did stay with us for the summer. He talked about the crew system, how he hated it, how he left it because of his girlfriend." He glanced to me, but pressed on. "There was no real plan set before I got here. I saw how Alex has a thing for Bren."

  What?

  "And then I started kinda liking you guys. So yeah, I guess hurt my cousin, and that'll hurt his mom eventually. I can't go after her directly because how shitty is that, right? But fuck. I want to. I want to tell my mom everything--"

  "Except you can't, because you'd be further hurting your mom." Jordan made an understanding sound. "I get it. I do."

  I looked around. Zellman and Jordan both offered pitying looks. Cross was on lockdown, drilling holes into Race's skull with his eyes, and I couldn't believe I was hearing or seeing any of this.

  "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  Four sets of eyes lifted to me.

  A guttural rumble ripped from my throat. I was beyond pissed. "Tell your fucking mom! She can do it alone if she has to. It's her decision. Not yours! You're making it worse."

  "But--" Confusion clouded Race's face, his mouth pinching in.

  I wasn't done. "And what about Drake? Explain. Now."

  "Oh." He blinked, shaking his head. "Uh...yeah. What I said was true. Drake left the crew because of you. You didn't know?"

  That growl was coming from me again. "Does it look like I knew?!" I snapped.

  "Guess not. But yeah, Alex wanted you in the Ryerson crew. Drake told me how he kept bugging him, saying he needed to recruit you."

  "Because he's got a thing for her?"

  But I knew. That wasn't it.

  "Because of my brother, right?"

  It made sense. Alex wanted the biggest, baddest, fiercest crew.

  Race nodded. "If your crew teams up with your brother's, you guys are the most powerful crew in Roussou. I mean, Channing's already is. They have fewer members than the Ryersons, but they're older. They're--"

  "Channing protects this town. Yes. His crew is the most powerful."

  My guys all glanced at me, but it was the truth. I was just stating the truth.

  "That shit doesn't mean anything to us." Zellman sounded unsure, looking in Jordan's direction.

  Race shook his head. "It mattered to Alex, and to Drake. Alex hated that Drake was dating you, but not making you switch crews."

  "Our crew didn't form like that," Jordan said. "We don't recruit people."

  "But his does," Race said. "We had a fight one night because he was pushing me to go after you. Said I could join up if I brought you with me. The little fuck doesn't get how much I'll do anything to go against him."

  "That's why Drake quit? Because of me?"

  He nodded. "That's why as soon as he graduated last year, Drake spent the summer with us. Alex is ambitious, but stupid. He wanted the crew to start doing illegal crap, like dealing."

  "Dealing drugs?"

  Race looked at Jordan. "I'm assuming you guys don't do that?"

  Jordan looked offended. "We're not a gang. We're friends. We hang out, and we have each other's backs. That's all we do." He seemed to remember where we were, what we were doing. "And we do things like this. On occasion."

  Zellman grunted, a half-grin showing.

  "But it's not that far of a stretch," Race continued. "You know that. I know that. Why do you think the school staff hates you guys? They think you're bringing in drugs."

  There had been gangs in Roussou, but they were pushed out when the crew system started. The biggest gang affiliation we had in town were the Red Demons, but they had an agreement with Chan's crew. I didn't know what it was, but I did know they weren't allowed to roam all around the town. The only place I saw them was at Tuesday Tits. That was it. Their base was somewhere else.

&nb
sp; "We're not," I said.

  Race turned to me. "Yeah." His voice softened. "Look, I thought about asking you out. I did. But..." His eyes flicked to Cross, then back to me. Race's shoulders lifted, and he straightened up as best he could. "I learned that wasn't going to happen."

  I glanced to Cross too.

  There was a flicker in the depths of his eyes, something dark, something deep, but then he shut it down. He signaled with a flick of his head to focus on Race again.

  I did.

  Race shook his head. "Yeah. Well, that's why Drake left."

  "Just to be clear," Zellman said after a moment. He spread his arms out in a flat line. "This has nothing to do with Bren's vagina parts." He shot his hands up, his palms out. "And I say that in the most respectful way. You can talk about my dick if you want, B. But it has to be respectful, just like I did."

  I rolled my eyes. "Suck my cock, Z."

  Jordan barked out a laugh. Cross grinned.

  Zellman was still--very, very still. He tilted his head to the side. "You're joking?"

  "I'm joking," I assured him. "But I'm going to make you hurt later when I'm not hopped up on painkillers."

  He shrugged. "That's fair. You warned me."

  Jordan was still laughing, and he pointed to Race. "We're done, right? We got what we wanted? We know what we wanted to know."

  "That's it?" Race asked.

  "That's it." Jordan nodded.

  I was relieved. We understood Race. We knew he wasn't going to hurt us down the road. That's all we needed. He was right. We were bloodhounds. Give us a half-truth and we'd pound you until we got it all. We weren't trying to be assholes, but living this life, living in Roussou, you learn not to trust kind deeds. Good Samaritans were the first to turn on you, a knife in your gut, smiling as you fell down.

  Race held his hands up, and Jordan took out a pocket knife. He began cutting the tape away.

  "You guys did all that just to ask me why I've been nice to you?" Race asked.

  Cross moved to my side. "Truth comes out if people are scared."

  When the last of the tape was cut from his wrists, Race leaned forward and pulled at the tape around his ankles. Jordan handed him the knife, and he cut it himself, handing it back when he was done.

  Rubbing at his wrists, Race looked around the room. "What are you guys going to do then? About my cousin?"

  The guys and I shared a look. Alex had gone after me, and now if he was dealing drugs? He'd gone from being our problem to being a problem for all crews.

  The truth was, we'd probably tell my brother, see what he had to say. But for now, Jordan only said, "He'll be dealt with."

  "I'm telling the truth." Race kept looking around at us. "I mean it."

  "We know," I said.

  Jordan left first.

  Zellman was second.

  I was going to wait, but Cross moved behind me. I stopped at the door.

  Race's mouth was slightly open, like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

  He wanted to be in. He wanted to know what we were going to do, but that's how this worked. Race wasn't crew.

  Cross touched the small of my back. He leaned forward, dropping his voice. "He'll be fine."

  And I felt what I'd started to become accustomed to feeling when he touched me.

  I felt that same tingle again.

  Jordan dropped us off and Cross snuck inside with me. He slept on the floor of my room. He was gone when I woke this morning--my head pounding and my ribs sore--and I knew it hadn't been a ghost that turned my alarm clock off.

  I had to bite my lip to keep from crying as I made my way to the bathroom. I hadn't wanted to take a painkiller again--I didn't like my foggy thoughts--but I needed it this morning. I was sore, and I hated that.

  This confirmed my plan to stay home from school for the day, and I found Heather in the kitchen when I padded out of the bathroom. She was dressed, grabbing some coffee. When she saw me, she nearly dropped the coffee pot.

  "You stayed home today!"

  I paused, the fleeting thought that I was in trouble fading once she broke into a wide smile. She came over, her arms out, then seemed to remember why I was at home. She stopped herself, laughing sheepishly.

  A tear slipped out, and she flicked it away.

  "Channing's going to be so happy. It's like you're normal." She waved to the kitchen table. "Sit, sit. What do you want to eat? I'll make you something." She opened the fridge door, then shut it. "I'll buy you whatever you want."

  I rubbed my eyes. They didn't want to open this morning. "I'll just have coffee."

  "Just have coffee, says the seventeen year old." Heather shook her head as she picked up the pot and cleaned off the bottom. She poured me a cup, adding a little milk before bringing it over. "I know I'm officially old because I keep thinking no teenager should be drinking coffee like an adult." She grabbed her cup and slipped into one of the other chairs. "What am I saying, though? My father would still be horrified at me." She slapped a hand on the table. "Change of subject. What's your plan for the day?"

  I gestured to the living room. "I'm going to be a lazy teenager today."

  "Oh!" She silently clapped. "I used to be cool, believe it or not, so my past teenaged self is incredibly embarrassed by how I'm acting, but I almost feel proud of you." She pushed herself up from the table. "Okay. So what do you want? I'll grab your blanket. I'll get all the remote controls for you. Food. Drink. Kleenex, because you never know. Movies--no, we have the DVR. Your phone? Where's your phone?"

  This wasn't the Heather I was used to dealing with. She was being motherly, which should've made me feel all sorts of edginess, but today wasn't normal. She was right. I was recuperating. Tomorrow I'd go back to being normal Bren.

  "Weren't you going to work?"

  "I was." She'd been looking around the kitchen, but now she stood up straight. "I have to call in your absence. For once, you're skipping with permission. I'll do that right now."

  "Hey, Heather."

  She started for the hallway, but stopped.

  I said softly, "You're still cool."

  Her mouth snapped shut. Her cheeks bulged out. She blinked rapidly, and then a small cry escaped her mouth. "Oh, Bren." She flicked a hand to her ear, blinking again, a whole bunch. "I'll, uh... I'll--Oh! I need to call."

  I almost made her cry.

  No. I did make her cry.

  It was a weird feeling, not just knowing she cared, but feeling it.

  After she kept getting things for me, I finally waved her off.

  "Go to work." I had everything I needed around me--my phone, a blanket... I wasn't even sure if I would watch television. "I'm fine. Really."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. I'm sure. Go."

  She still wavered, but then grabbed her phone and purse. "Okay. I'm going to go. I'm going to call your brother. He'll check on you this afternoon, and Bren?" She paused in the doorway. "Please stay here tonight. Don't go out. Just for one night."

  I stared at her a moment.

  I was used to hard, smart-ass Heather Jax, not this one. I got a glimpse of what she'd be like as a mother, and feeling a lump form in my throat, I nodded. "I'll stay." My voice was a bit hoarse, but she didn't seem to notice.

  "Okay." I heard the back door open, and she yelled, "And call if you need anything. Please."

  Her car started a minute later. I breathed a little easier once she was gone. It was overwhelming when all of her attention was focused on me, but already I missed it.

  It was a lot, but it was a good a lot.

  And that felt weird too.

  I heard someone coming, but I didn't move.

  I had become one with the hill, the trees, the grasshoppers chirping. I felt like I was up above, staring down at myself. I was there, right next to my mom, and I could almost hear her laughing in my ear.

  "What have you gotten yourself into now, Bren?"

  She would've laughed. She would've shaken her head at me, but there wou
ld've been a twinge of concern and fear in her eyes. She would've worried she was to blame.

  It was nighttime. I'd stayed home all day until the restlessness kicked in. Heather had called a couple times to check on me, and she'd been right. Channing had brought food for a late lunch, but he'd had to return to the bar. Jordan texted and asked if I needed anything. I was tempted to have them skip and hang out with me, but I didn't. I tried to be a good influence, for once.

  When I said I was fine, Jordan replied that he and Zellman were going to kick it at his house after school. That was fine with me. It was in the back of my mind to join, but I'd told Heather I'd stay the day, and that's what I did. Cross texted a few times too, but he wasn't a big texter. I hadn't expected a lot. I hadn't heard from him since school let out, so a part of me already knew what the plan for the evening would be.

  At eight, Channing texted that he was heading to Manny's. Heather had to stay for closing, so I knew what their hours would be. He'd stay till she closed, which would be late.

  I took that as my cue.

  I'd headed out, and I knew who was likely to be standing over me soon.

  I opened my eyes now as a shadow fell across me, and there he was.

  I smiled. "How'd I know you'd come?"

  Cross grinned back. "You're my best friend." He sat next to me, drawing his knees up, his arms hanging over them.

  "You okay?" His fingers touched my skin where my shirt had ridden up. He wasn't just asking about the Ryerson fight.

  I jerked my head in a nod. My voice wasn't working. Things were changing with Cross and me.

  He had touched me again, and I liked it.

  I was starting to need him to touch me more. What would happen if I didn't stop this?

  I tried to think of being with Cross, and then not. Of finding him with someone else. I tried to think how it'd feel if he walked away from me like Drake had. It had hurt with Drake--I couldn't lie about that--but it would be devastating with Cross.

  Pure agony sliced through my chest. That couldn't happen. Ever.

  "You're never going to leave, are you?" It wasn't like his answer would settle a future problem, but I couldn't help myself.

  I waited for him to respond, and my skin began to burn under his hand. I wanted his fingers to move, explore. I wanted them to slip under my shirt, and I tried to think of a way to lift it for him without moving a muscle.

  "What?" His eyebrows drew together. "Where'd that come from?"

  "Are you?"