Fallen Crest Campout: A Fallen Crest/Crew crossover novella

by Tijan

  “Oh boy.” That’s all I said as I grabbed Taylor’s hand and followed Heather.

  We could’ve gone back, but neither of us considered that option. I think we both wanted to have this out too.

  Then Heather was at the other campfire. “Matteo, you’re doing the empty chair.”

  Taylor looked at me again, but I was right there with her.

  The empty chair?

  8

  Bren

  The plan had been to go easy on the alcohol tonight, since there were adults with us.

  That’d been the plan.

  What we were doing instead was each of us was fisting our own hard liquor bottle. Each had a cup with a mixer in there, but for the most part, we were drinking straight up.

  Oh well.

  None of us really cared; we were avidly listening to these women as we were sitting behind Heather’s camper.

  They were loud as fuck, even being inside the camper. We could’ve been in our camper and still heard their shrieks—not to mention the leapfrogging. Jordan and Zellman had thought that was so funny, Cross had to stuff their own shirts in their mouths.

  Though we hadn’t really needed to worry about Heather and her friends hearing us, since they were blasted.

  Zellman whispered, “This is like live MTV shit.”

  Jordan grinned. “Adults get on our asses for acting like this now, but fuck. We can do this same shit at their age? I’m in. Forget the stupid crew rules.”

  I frowned.

  Cross looked at him, leaning around me. “That makes no sense.”

  Jordan paused, lifted his bottle, and shrugged. “It made sense in my head.”

  Zellman just giggled. He’d been all about the giggling tonight. “I want to get laid.” He looked at me. “Can we call our girls?”

  Cross answered for me, “No.”

  “Why not?” He indicated to me with his bottle. “You got yours here.”

  “We ain’t doing shit right now. This is a crew weekend.”

  Jordan snorted.

  Zellman laughed, holding his bottle in the air toward the camper. “Like you and Bren won’t slip away when we’re way past trashed, but whatever. It’s cool. I get it. Crew weekend with some free live entertainment. And I think the chicks left.”

  “What?”

  Fuck. He was right. It was silent inside their camper.

  Cross patted my hip, and I led the way.

  One by one, we stood and crept out, each still holding our bottle. I couldn’t imagine what we looked like, but we hurried, like bonfire creepers, around the campfire, and instead of following them down the obvious path, I cut across toward the beach area. There was a thinning in the trees down here, one I knew the adults hadn’t taken the time to find.

  I moved forward until we had crossed the beach access of their campsite too. We went to the far side of their site, moving up through the next campsite, which was empty, and entered a clearing in the woods. There was enough room to sit, but that wasn’t enough.

  Handing over their booze, Cross and Jordan went back. After a moment they returned, carrying an entire picnic table. They placed it in the pathway that would’ve connected the Kades’ campsite to the empty site behind us. Setting it just beyond where any light might shine over us, each of us climbed up.

  Butts on the table, feet where we would’ve normally sat, we hunkered down for another front row seat to whatever was about to unfold.

  Cross leaned close, resting his hand behind me and his mouth came to my ear. “Z’s not wrong. I’m going to want to slip away later.”

  A shiver of anticipation ran through me, and I nodded. “I know.”

  I turned my head, just slightly, and felt his lips there.

  I closed my eyes, inhaling, savoring this moment.

  Then his mouth moved and his lips applied pressure.

  Tingles spread through me, and a full-on shiver went down my spine.

  I leaned forward, and we were silently making out.

  Then Jordan coughed. “Not fair.”

  Zellman answered, right next to him, “Exactly.”

  Cross chuckled and left another nip against my lips before he moved away. “Fuck off, you two.”

  They both started laughing, but silently.

  Then we tuned in, because shit was getting good over there.

  9

  Samantha

  This was happening.

  I didn’t want it to happen, but it was happening.

  Taylor groaned, shrinking into my side as much as she could, but we were here. Heather was wading in, and we were backing her up—even though in this situation Heather was really just lighting the bomb and tossing it into the group. The bomb wasn’t even hers to throw, but she was doing it, and if I hadn’t acknowledged it before, I definitely had a girl crush on Heather.

  She stepped up to where the guys had formed a semicircle around the fire pit. Her legs set wide, her hand went to her hip. The other held her whiskey bottle, because we’d taken to just passing the bottle around.

  “Heather!” Taylor hissed.

  She ignored her. “Matteo.” She found him, frozen mid-sip of his own bourbon.

  He looked at each of us before returning to Heather.

  “What’s the deal?” she asked. “Sam hasn’t said anything, but I can tell. You’re being awkward. You’re setting off awkward vibes. What gives?”

  He made a startled choking sound.

  I’d never seen Matteo shocked before. I was seeing it now, and I almost wished I could take a picture of it. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.

  Could I?

  I was trying to remember… Where was my phone?

  I patted my pockets. It wasn’t in there.

  Mason suddenly half-snorted a laugh, his head looking down. His shoulders shook.

  I frowned.

  Wait. Did he have my phone?

  Then Heather clued in, frowning at Mason and then me, and her eyebrows pinched together. She wasn’t cluing in all the way. “I don’t want to ask, but I’ll ask you instead. What’s up Matteo’s ass?”

  “Heather.” Channing stood.

  She shot a hand out in his direction. “No. In some ways, this is my crew. You have your crew, Chan, and you’re all up in their business and taking care of them. This is me doing that for my group. I know something’s going on and I don’t like it. I’ve never felt this weird shit before and I’ve been around these guys. We’ve gone through some dark moments before. This, though. This has my skin crawling.”

  I shot Logan a look. He and Nate.

  Both were looking away, and both had their jaws clenched.

  Interesting.

  Then, as if knowing he was cornered, Matteo let out an audible sigh.

  He was empty chairing. I think? I still wasn’t sure what that meant, and I feel like I should know. Like, I feel like it’s something that I should know and I was feeling like a dumbass for not knowing.

  Another thing I could use my phone for. I could google that and then be in the know.

  “Sam.” Mason’s voice was coming out strangled. “Honey.”

  Oh no.

  I recognized that one, and I was having déjà vu. Not a good déjà vu too.

  I looked at Heather. “I’m talking out loud, aren’t I?”

  She hid a grin, biting down on her lip. “You do tend to be hilarious when you drink so you’re not saying a word. You keep on thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

  Someone else started snorting/laughing, but I scanned the group.

  I didn’t think it was coming from any of them. That was weird.

  “Matteo.” Heather coughed in a not subtle way at all. “You’re up.”

  He was doing the empty chair thing now.

  His eyes flashed at Heather and his mouth tightened. “I don't know what you want me to say, Jax.”

  She retorted, “Whatever’s going on.”

  “Whatever’s going on?” His mouth flattened and his jaw clenched. He was in th
at club. His shoulders got all rigid as well. “Fine. Fuck it. What’s going on is that I got released from my team, which I get. It happens, but they reached out to Mason’s team and offered to trade me. They didn’t take me. Mason had an opportunity to vouch for me, since we’re friends and all, but he didn’t.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  Matteo glared at him. “That’s exactly how it works.”

  “They didn’t ask me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not, man. And that team doesn’t run like that.”

  Matteo was quiet.

  I saw Logan and Nate sharing a look, but both remained quiet.

  “You know that team doesn’t work like that. Some guys have sway, but not me. I’m too new. No way in hell would they ask. If they had asked me, I would’ve vouched for you. I didn’t even know about it until it was done and you were released. You’re the one who told me about it. I got that text from you and it was fucked up.”

  I also needed to note this.

  This was the most not-heated argument Mason had ever been in, that I’d witnessed.

  He’d been in plenty. Fisticuffs. Fighting words. Cops showed. All that happened and it had gotten bad at other times, but this time, he wasn’t that angry. He was hurt, but that was surprising me too. He was letting it be heard that he was hurt. He wasn’t standing or throwing out threats or trying to shut someone up like that. All past Mason fights.

  This Mason fight, I didn’t even want popcorn to watch it.

  It was very anticlimactic.

  “Samantha.” A hand clasped on my arm.

  I looked. Taylor was there, biting the inside of her cheek. She drew me closer and whispered, “Maybe we can try to not share everything?”

  “Oh.” I clamped a hand over my mouth, then said, “Ididntknowiwasdoingit.”

  Crap.

  Double crap.

  Heather was shaking her head. Taylor was trying not to laugh.

  Channing was outright watching me, enjoying everything.

  Mason seemed frustrated.

  I touched my lips, making sure they weren’t moving. They weren’t. Thank goodness.

  I think I’ll just keep my finger right here, just at the corner, and make sure they aren’t moving anymore.

  Yes, indeed. I’ll just do that.

  And I waited. No weird looks.

  I think I had a handle on it now.

  Mason was saying, “...and I have to also say that after you texted me, I did ask for a meet. They sent a guy down and got my opinion. I told them you’re a good player and they’d be idiots not to take you. After that, I really can’t do anything.”

  Matteo was still watching Mason, but his glaring had faded.

  Then he sucked in some air.

  His cheeks emptied out and he looked down. His hands clasped each other in his lap and I heard the word, “Fuck,” whispered from him. “Fuck!”

  He swung that accusing look to Nate and Logan. “You guys know this?”

  Both shook their heads.

  Nate said, “You asked us not to say anything. We didn’t.”

  Mason’s jaw clenched. Now he was a member too.

  Matteo swung his head Mason’s way. “And knowing you, you probably didn’t offer anything?”

  “You’re in the family. I was waiting for you to come to me.” A beat. “You never came to me.”

  “Shit.” It was low and swift, and Matteo’s hands were in fists beside his legs now. “Goddamn.”

  Logan spoke up quietly, “When Mason and I fight, we usually handle it right away. I can’t help it. I can’t keep shit in. And he and Nate, that shit gets hashed out between them too. I mean, yeah, there’s spillage to our group sometimes but not all the time. We’re all older too.” His gaze went to his brother, then returning to Matteo. “Seems a conversation is the way to go now. Don’t you think?”

  Matteo flinched.

  The message was sent.

  In his way, Logan had tried to be Matteo’s friend, but he was also showing that he was on Mason’s side and had been on Mason’s side this whole time.

  Matteo lifted his head again. His eyes were almost searing from regret. “What do I do now? How do I make this up? I feel like I hurt you and that was never my intent. I was stupid. Dumb. I should’ve called and I didn’t. Pride, man. You know? It’s a bad fucker.”

  I almost let out a sound of annoyance, because this really was a letdown. A few words, a brief moment of tension, and now the apologies were flying? There wasn’t even a swear word—

  wait. There had been.

  Nevermind.

  There’d been swearing, but no raised voices. No beer bottles were thrown or used as a weapon. I’d heard about Channing’s recent showdown. There were no motorcycles roaring through the bonfire.

  No guns. (Not that there really ever had been. I didn’t think…)

  Wasted Old Sam was just that, wasted and old. My memory was slipping already.

  I’d have dementia by the time Maddie was twenty.

  Oh God! That couldn’t happen.

  I couldn’t forget my baby.

  “Sam. Okay.”

  My finger had slipped. I already knew when Heather linked her arm through mine. “Maybe we should.” But she paused and looked at Taylor. “Is girls’ night over?”

  Taylor was yawning.

  I snorted. That was the answer.

  Heather seemed to deflate all in one go. “Okay. I’m a little tired. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”

  And at that moment, Channing had been frowning at Heather’s legs. He spoke up, “Babe, why are your knees all dirty?”

  Taylor started laughing.

  I started snickering.

  Heather shot us both a dirty look before saying to Channing, “Not because of why you’re thinking.”

  Taylor offered, “There was leapfrogging.”

  Silence. From all the guys.

  All eyes turned our way.

  “Leapfrogging?” Logan’s eyebrow raised, just one of them. His head inclined forward at a slight angle. “You were leapfrogging, Firecracker?”

  She flushed, but a soft smile was on her face. “Yes. And it was fun.”

  Channing asked, his tone more guarded, “Heather. Leapfrogging?”

  If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t know it was possible, but Heather was flushing too.

  And I didn’t know why leapfrogging was so scandalous, unless they were thinking of—

  oh.

  Ohhhh.

  I didn’t think they were thinking of the actual leaping over part, more of the other part. The position part, and now I was flushing, and eyeing Mason, who was giving me a knowing smirk.

  Yeah. Girls’ night was over.

  Mason came over, his hand sliding around my waist. He tugged me away from Taylor and into his chest. Bending his head, he asked in my ear, “You wanna try some leapfrogging in the camper tonight?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I was refraining from a ribbit sound.

  But I had to touch my lips to make sure they refrained too.

  He stifled a laugh and wrapped his other arm around me. I slid my arms around him, and we took a moment, away from the tension and the disappointing drama. It was Mason and me. Mom and dad. Husband and wife, and even though we were with our family and friends, I needed this.

  There was never a time I wouldn’t want Mason to hug me.

  He nuzzled into my neck, kissing my throat.

  I shivered, and he whispered in my ear, “And by the way, because I heard a little bit, you are fine to have one night away. You are a great mom, Sam. You worry about her, and you love her, but you are allowed one night off. And Malinda is allowed one night to bask in being a grandma too.”

  Right.

  We were doing this for Malinda.

  I grinned, tipping my head back. His eyes got all dark and soulful, and then his gaze moved to my mouth. He began to trace around my mouth with his finger, and I felt a wh
ole new slew of shivers.

  He felt them too and grinned, his smile turning wolfish. “Fuck, I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Heather groaned next to us, “I have to say, I love Channing too. He is my soulmate in this wild and crazy ride we call life, but you two are taking the trophy for being so fucking cheesy right now.” A second later, “And we lost another pair.”

  “What?” I pulled out of Mason’s arms.

  Taylor and Logan had gone over to stand in front of one of the campers.

  The fight was done.

  I was assuming Mason and Matteo would be fine now, so he and Nate had moved on to their next mission. They were taping bottles of booze to their hands.

  Channing approached and stepped up behind his woman.

  He pulled her back to his chest and dipped his mouth to her shoulder. She knew it was him, knew the second he got close, and a whole different look came over her face, one that was molten and wanting. As his lips touched her bare shoulder, her body trembled. She gulped, her hand sliding around his head to cup the back of his neck.

  “Hey,” she whispered to him.

  “Hey,” he whispered back, dropping another kiss to her shoulder before lifting his head. He frowned, his eyes sweeping around us. “Where’s my sister?”

  A sharpness sliced his words. His eyebrows pulled together. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. What are the odds those four got into some fight with someone?”

  I noted that he didn’t say those four had gotten into a fight amongst themselves. Nope. It was with someone else.

  Heather muttered a curse and stepped free from his hold. Her eyes were alert, and she was scanning both campsites now, or scanning what she could see. “You’re right. There’s no way they wouldn’t find drama somehow.”

  She began to stride forward, to the path connecting our campsites.

  “Speak for yourself!” a voice hollered, and Channing’s sister materialized from the woods opposite us.

  She walked with confidence, her shoulders back, head up, and behind her the three guys followed. The golden model was at her backside, and the other two filtered out, snickering to each other. Each of them held a bottle of alcohol, and not one seemed ashamed of that fact.