Crew, Page 29

  "Thirty Ryerson crew to one Normal." My stomach churned with anger. "That's not a family fight. It's a massacre."

  Alex started laughing. And then he couldn't stop. It reminded me of a hyena. He pointed at me. "That's funny coming from you. I've done a lot of things, but I've never stabbed my school principal."

  We'd drawn the line.

  He'd just crossed it.

  I drew my knife out, flipping it open. Alex focused on it immediately "This thing?" I murmured.

  I was taunting him. He knew it.

  His eyes went cold. "You're about to cross a line--"

  "You already did. You insulted me. There's no going back after that."

  I could see Tabatha from the corner of my eye. She was still comforting Taz, running a hand up and down her arm.

  "People need to stop underestimating me," I said, turning her way for a moment. "It's getting old."

  Her hand paused halfway up Taz's arm. She blinked, then kept rubbing. There was no other reaction from her.

  "It's up to you, Alex. Stay and fight us, or leave."

  We were all ready to go.

  Race wiped a hand over his face, then assumed his fight position. He was still sweating and bleeding, but his shoulders rolled back.

  "They interrupted round one," he said. "You ready for round two, cousin?"

  Alex bit back a growl. He focused on me. "You cut us and what then? Cops will know. You'll get charged."

  My mouth almost fell open. "Was that a joke?"

  "He's desperate," Race said.

  Alex gave his cousin a hostile look. "No joke, cuz. But anyway, you know how the cops are. They'll assume shit. They might assume it was Bren who sliced one of my crew open." He shrugged. "What about that? It's hard to tell who's doing what in a big brawl. You'll get charged, won't you? You might go away to juvie then? Maybe even prison."

  I was having deja vu.

  This fucker was threatening me--same as Sunday, same as Tabatha. Same as all the other times Alex had forgotten his place.

  But this time he'd really messed up.

  A ripple was spreading through his crew. The first few couldn't believe what they'd heard. They looked at each other, shaking their heads.

  Threatening what he had, implying they'd find out--that was snitching.

  That was violation number one, of all crews.

  No one narced, no one.

  I shook my head. "You're no longer our problem, Alex." I glanced at his group. They were backing up, and he didn't even know. They had withdrawn to the street. He was almost alone. A few were already heading to their cars, though some lingered back.

  I had no doubt one simple meeting would make up their minds.

  Alex was out. And I was going to enjoy this.

  "Tides turn real fucking quick, huh?" I gestured behind him.

  He turned to look, and the fight drained from him.

  "Guys?!" He started for them. "What are you doing? Come back here!"

  They ignored him. The few that remained held up their hands. One by one, they turned to go.

  It was quiet as we watched their vehicles leave.

  The Ryerson crew had been led by a Ryerson for years. I wondered what their new name would be. It felt wrong not to have a Ryerson crew, but then I looked over at Race. He could lead them.

  As if sensing my thoughts, he looked over at me, totally deflated. But I also saw the anger there, the darkness, the hatred burning. No, he wouldn't lead them.

  I turned back toward Alex. "Threatening to be a narc is proclaiming you're a narc."

  He roared, lunging for me.

  I had my knife ready, but Cross and Jordan stepped in front of me.

  They didn't hit him. They just shoved him back.

  Jordan got in his face. "You touch one of us, you're dead. I'm goddamn sick of your shit." His waved to the street, dismissing him. "This fight is over. You're over. Get away from us."

  Alex closed his eyes. The violence was still there, but he couldn't do a thing now. His hands were tied.

  He looked right at his cousin. "Your mother is never going to find work here. She's over. It's been a long time coming."

  "Goddamn!" Race exploded, surging past Cross and Jordan. They caught him and pushed him back, but he threw his arms over them, still trying to get at Alex. "Fuck you! Fuck your whole fucking family."

  I was guessing someone had finally told his mom about her soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law.

  Alex started moving toward his vehicle. "Yeah. Right. You'll learn what it's like to piss on a real Ryerson now, Race. Good luck with that." He opened his door.

  "Good luck with being known as an informant!" Race yelled after him. "Hope you stay above ground longer than me!"

  Alex started his truck, and extending a middle finger in the air, he drove off.

  I would've liked to laugh off Race's last words, but I couldn't.

  Narcs got killed.

  A chill went through my body.

  I'd never heard of a crew narc before now. I wished I still hadn't.

  "You okay?" Jordan asked.

  He was about to slap Race on the back, but he pulled the hit so it was more of a tap.

  Race flashed him a grin before he doubled over, groaning. He rested his hands on his knees.

  "Race!" Taz rushed to his side.

  She slipped her head under one of his arms and straightened, helping him do the same. Race groaned again, grabbing at his side.

  Two Normals stepped in, one replacing Taz and the other taking Race's free side. She followed, worry pulling her eyebrows together. She bit her lip as she reached out, her fingertips grazing over Race's back like she just needed to touch him. The guys led the way inside, and as soon Race was seated in a chair at the kitchen table, Taz pulled out the first aid kit.

  My crew stood around the table, ready to help. We knew our way around a first aid kit, but as Taz knelt in front of Race, I could see that wild horses weren't going to pull her away from him. Her mouth set in a determined line as she began to clean up his wounds.

  Cross pulled out a chair close to Race and sat. "You going to live?"

  Race started laughing, but the movement caused him pain, and he moaned. He cursed, shaking his head. "Goddamn Alex." He sighed. "Yeah, I'll live."

  Jordan and Zellman sat at the table. I was content to rest against the wall. Tabatha and Sunday and a couple other girls were standing around in the kitchen, there if Taz needed something. Some of the athlete guys lingered too, but no one said much of anything.

  This was the aftermath of a crew fight--whether it had started as that or not. This was the time when we regrouped. We talked. We had our debriefing, sorting out the hows, whys, and what would happen next.

  These meetings always tired me out. The goal was to protect ourselves against future threats, and that usually meant more fighting.

  But these guys--the Normals in our world--did not seem tired. Awe, fear, and curiosity all mixed together in their eyes. They were hungry for more. Those of us around the table ignored them.

  "You want to clue us in on what that fight was about?" Cross asked.

  Race cringed.

  Taz looked up. "Sorry." She went right back to cleaning.

  Race let out a harsh laugh, hissing. "I might have a broken rib, Taz."

  "I know." She didn't stop working though. "But you have a gushing cut here. I need to clean it up before we go to the hospital."

  We all cringed at the mention of a hospital.

  Hospitals meant questions, and those questions sometimes meant cops. No thanks.

  I looked around. None of the people in the kitchen seemed concerned about going to the hospital. They didn't have reason. They weren't considered troubled.

  My stomach rolled over.

  I didn't want to be here. There were too many people, too many opinions, too many questions, too many of everything. I could feel the pressure pushing down on me.

  The room was starting to suffocate me.

  I slipped
out, trying to go quietly. I didn't want the others to worry, but I had to exit. Once I stepped outside, I breathed in the night air and almost right away, it settled my stomach. I was moving toward the pool when I heard Cross' voice behind me.

  "You want to talk now?"

  I startled. I hadn't realized he followed me. I turned to find his face half in shadows.

  I opened my mouth, about to answer, but then I just looked at him. I really looked at him. Like I had in my bedroom, I felt another veil falling from my eyes. He had stepped into a role he hadn't wanted until now, but I knew it was in him.

  He was a leader.

  He was just what everyone said he was. He was better than all of us.

  And he was so goddamn gorgeous.

  I reached up, touching his chin. "Why did it take me so long to accept this?"

  He reached for me. "Because my good looks blinded you." He leaned forward, nuzzling my neck. He feathered kisses there, sending tingles through my body.

  "You're only human," he added, his hand skimming up my back. "You couldn't see around the sun glare."

  I barked out a laugh, which ended on a whimper as his lips continued to explore under my jaw, then down my throat.

  I felt my legs actually weaken, and I reached for him--to steady myself and just to touch him.

  His arm curved around my back, but then he pulled away. "Not here." His hand grabbed mine. "Come on."

  Without a word, I followed him.

  Without a word, I would've followed him anywhere.

  He took me around the side of his house. Hopped up on their front porch deck, onto a small bannister outside the second floor, and finally through his bedroom window. I was almost moving with him, just a step behind. I knew this route like the back of my hand, having climbed in so many nights when his parents were still up and on the main level.

  Moving silently and stealthily, he crossed to shut his door, flicking the lock.

  I shut the window, and then it was just the two of us.

  He wasted no time. An absolute look of need on his face, his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth came to mine.

  I don't know if it was the image of thirty crew against one, or knowing that everyone in my crew knew my secret now, but I felt small. I needed to be reaffirmed of him, of us, of this between us, or maybe I just didn't want to feel small anymore.

  Maybe I didn't want to feel like that could've been one of us. One against thirty. That's what happened in this town and this world--we survived. Either way, he was pushing everything away inside me, replacing it with good.

  "Cross," I breathed, my fingers curling around his jeans waistband.

  He sucked in his breath.

  I leaned my head back, and his mouth moved to my throat.

  I was throbbing for him, and as he pressed into me, I raised a leg. I hooked it around him and used it to bring him more snugly against me. He moved me back, pressing me against the wall and began to move, grinding into me.

  I bit back another moan.

  This guy--threading my fingers through his hair, I turned my head and his lips found mine. God. This guy.

  Why had it taken me so long? Cross had his joke ready, but the question plagued me. Something had blocked me, something about me. It wasn't Cross.

  His hand caught the back of my neck, and he held me, his lips moving over mine, making me shiver with need. But there was a nagging voice in the back of my mind. She wasn't talking--not yet--but I felt her. She wanted to say something, but I couldn't hear it. Or I didn't want to. Maybe I was scared to. There was something in me, like I was holding myself back...

  As Cross' hand swept under my shirt and moved to my breast, I stopped trying to figure it out. Whatever it had been, my eyes were open now, and holy fuck, there was no going back.

  "Hmm?" Cross pulled away, his eyes finding mine.

  "Nothing." I pulled him close, fusing my lips to his.

  I never wanted him to be away. Ever. It felt wrong.

  "This feels too good." He lifted his head.

  I wanted to stop him, but I didn't.

  "Yeah?" I asked, panting a bit.

  He nodded, his eyes darkening. He moved in for a kiss, and I surged up against him, meeting him.

  It was a long while before he lifted his head again. His eyes were glazed, his face a little red, but I could feel the real evidence straining between my legs. If I reached down, if I unzipped my jeans, pulled my underwear aside... He'd be inside me in two seconds. One push, and we'd be one.

  I bit my lip, trying to remember why that was a bad idea.

  We heard Jordan call from below. "Anyone know where they went?"

  We stilled. He was yelling, a full roar, so the crowd was loud beneath us.

  A moment later, we heard the footsteps coming up.

  A pause.

  More footsteps, coming to his room.

  I held my breath, feeling my pulse pounding in my ears, but Cross didn't move away. His arms didn't loosen, and neither did mine.

  The footsteps stopped outside the door. "Dude!" Jordan pounded on it. "You guys in there?"

  Cross stifled a curse, one hand anchored behind my neck, and he lifted his head toward the door. "We're talking."

  "You serious?"

  "Yeah. Go away."

  I pressed my mouth into Cross' neck. He ran a hand down my back.

  "A crew talk?" Jordan's voice sounded strained.

  "A Bren talk." Cross' grin was wicked, looking down at me.

  I shook my head, unable to keep from grinning back, and pressed a fist to his chest. He grabbed it, flattening my hand against his chest instead.

  I sucked in some air. His heart was going just as fast as mine.

  "Well. Okay. We're all taking off."

  "We'll catch up with you later."

  "Bren?"

  Shit. I had to talk.

  I tried smoothing out my voice so it came out normal. "Yeah?"

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah. I, uh..."

  Cross put his lips to my ear, whispering, "What you said at Manny's, about your dad." Then he began nibbling.

  I almost melted, my knees jerking.

  "It's about what I said earlier. I just, I have to--best friend time, you know?"

  "Yeah." Jordan sighed. "Taz wants to take Race to the hospital, so Z and I are going with the girls. They're shook up. We're going to comfort them, if you get my drift."

  Cross snorted, tipping his head back. "Have fun getting laid."

  Jordan laughed. "Yeah. Yeah. See you guys." He tapped the door once in his farewell, then started back down the hallway.

  Cross dipped down, grabbed me around the legs and tossed me onto the bed.

  He followed right after, dropping to the bed almost at the same second. His hands slid up my neck, his fingers moving through my hair, and he bent down, his lips meeting mine, taking mine.

  He commanded, and I answered. I couldn't do anything else. This guy--I'd do anything for him.

  It wasn't long until we heard everyone start to leave--footsteps traipsing outside, crossing the lawn. Voices outside, then car doors opening and closing. Headlights came on, some lighting up his room, until suddenly and so blissfully, everyone was gone.

  It was just us. Us and his bed.

  He paused, lifting his head. "Did you want to go to the hospital too?"

  I smiled. "You're joking, right?"

  He smiled back. "Yeah."

  This was what I wanted. Him. Me. Alone. I just purely wanted him.

  I wanted to let go of the armor I had to wear all the time. I could with him, and I was at that moment. I was merely a girl being held in the arms of the boy she was already in love with.

  He'd been watching me and ran his hand down my hair again before moving to the side of my face. His thumb rested over my cheek. "I want you. God." He groaned, his lips coming to mine again. "I want you."

  I whispered back, "Then have me, because I want you too."

  His eyes blazed, burning into mine,
dark and fierce and powerful, and he leaned down again. His lips touched mine as his hand slid inside my jeans.

  My head fell back. Pleasure and ache surged inside of me. "Shit, Cross."

  "Hmmm?" His lips moved down my throat. He touched right where my artery was, where the blood was pumping, and began to suckle there.

  I felt his hand on my stomach, and he slid it upward, moving my shirt as he went. I stretched out, savoring this feeling as he explored my body, pulling my shirt up and off of me. I wore a sports bra, and that came off too. As soon as it did, his mouth was on me. He was kissing, licking, tasting. He was savoring me.

  Every inch of me was in a frenzy. He added to it, making it richer, stronger, making it rise all over me until I was quivering in his arms.

  "Cross." I grabbed for his shirt. I wanted it off. Now. Desperately.

  Taking the end, I pulled it up and Cross pulled back, helping toss it off of him. He paused, right there, settled firmly between my legs, his jeans unbuckled, and his shirt off. I could see him in the street light. It cast a perfect glimmer through his curtains, just enough where I could see all the shadows over him. Rising up, I began to kiss him. I kissed his chest, moving down, lingering, exploring him the way he had done to me.

  I made him shake, quiver, groan.

  And when I couldn't wait any longer, when the throbbing was so strong that I swear he could feel it, my hands went to his jeans.

  "Bren?"

  I looked up. "Yes."

  That was all he needed.

  He pushed me back down, my head to his pillow, and he lay over me, his entire firm body molding to every inch of me.

  I raised my leg and he caught it, curling it around his waist. One movement, and I was helpless to him. He held me in place as he continued to suck on my throat. His finger slipped inside, a second soon joining, and I couldn't do a thing except bite my lip. I was gone. I was beyond reality, lost in this ride.

  In and out.

  His fingers kept going.

  "Cross," I moaned.

  I found his mouth, and his lips pressed over mine. His fingers plunged in again. A gentle pressure from his lips, and then he cursed under his breath. His fingers came out of me, but he made quick work of pulling my other leg around his waist. I locked them around him, and he undid his zipper. He leaned over, opening his drawer, and I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper.

  He paused, holding himself above me, lined up at my entrance. "You sure?"

  I opened my eyes and saw him hovering an inch from me. "Get the fuck inside me."

  His eyes darkened, and he pushed inside. Sliding to the hilt.

  I gasped. Finally.