by E. M. Moore
“I know you would,” Mag says, kissing my temple. He breathes, the hot breath stirring my hair. “You have to calm down. You have to go deal with Brawler right now. We need a plan. A fucking good plan.”
I go limp in Magnum’s arms until he doesn’t have to hold me back anymore, he has to hold me up. “Did you know he was doing that?”
Mag relaxes his grip only to stretch a soothing hand over my abdomen, making careful strokes of comfort. “No, I had no idea.”
I relax against him, placing my head against his shoulder. He gives my neck a chaste kiss, but it ends all too quickly. Right before the elevator opens, he props me up. I wobble on my feet, and he puts a steady hand against the small of my back until I regain composure in case anyone is hanging out in the hall who we wouldn’t want to see how comfortable we are with each other.
The doors open fully, and Oscar and Brawler appear in the hallway. I march out, eyeing Brawler the whole time.
He meets my gaze head-on, the pulse at his neck a flurry of beats visible with the naked eye.
“Everyone,” Mag says. “My place. Now.”
“This ought to be fun,” Oscar deadpans, leaning against the wall as Mag unlocks his door and ushers us through it.
As soon as the door closes behind us, I approach Brawler. “What are you doing?”
I want to be mad. I want to scream and rage and scold him, but an overwhelming sadness attacks me first. It’s not the fury I thought I would start with. I try to say something more, but I choke. He sat in Dunnegan’s chair. Dunnegan’s. Fucking. Chair. The dead body slumped over the table next time could very well be him, and then where would we be?
I fist my fingers in my hands. Brawler reaches down, scooping them up, his enormous palms encompassing every square inch of my tight fists. He moves his fingers just slightly so he can kiss my skin as he brings them to his mouth. “I had to, Kyla. Are you okay?” He squeezes me, and instead of looking me over in a cursory inspection, he pierces me with his gaze as if he can find all the answers he needs inside me. “This is the third time you’ve been caught in a crossfire, and I’ve been stuck not knowing one fucking word on what’s happening. I can’t do it anymore. I had to do something.”
I close my eyes before reopening them. “But join the Crew? It’s the Crew, Brawler. They murdered your brother, they—”
He kisses the end of my pinkies again, his hands warm against my skin. “Which is why I can’t let anything happen to you. If I get in, I can help protect you. I can keep you safe. Out there, I can’t do shit. I just have to sit and wait. Hope you make it out okay not knowing where you are or what exactly happened. They tried to blow the fucking tower up, and I had no idea what happened to you. Talk about another Crew hit was all over the Heights, and I had no idea if that was you. Then, you’re whisked away for a couple of days—days—and I still don’t know if you’re hurt. Or what they did to you. Or if you even got away. It’s killing me. It fucking killed me, okay?”
I throw his hands away and scream out in frustration. “But this isn’t what was supposed to happen, Brawler. You had an out.”
He pulls me back to him with a growl. “I don’t want an out without you. If you think I’m going to just one day skip off into the sunset and leave you here, you know nothing about me.”
His words press into all the sensitive parts of me. “If you were smart, you’d do that now.”
His blue eyes spark like turquoise fire burning through dry brush. “Not happening.”
“As heart wrenching as this all is,” Oscar says, interjecting his lazy humor into our moment, “Now you have to fight each other, so I’m with Princess on this one. Dumb move.”
“You would’ve done the same thing,” Brawler scoffs back. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it was you who told me to man up and join the Crew a few weeks ago. I need to know what’s happening with Kyla.”
“I told you what I knew,” Oscar seethes. “She’s alive. She’s at the safe house.”
“But you wouldn’t tell me where it was!”
“Because I don’t fucking know where it is!” Oscar lifts his hat off and then pulls it back down over his head with a hard tug. “I told you everything I knew.”
“Careful,” Brawler teases with a humorless smirk. “People might think you actually care.”
“Fuck off. You don’t think I was worried?” He points to me. “This girl is my life. My mother might as well be dead. No one cares about me but her.”
“You don’t think it’s the same for me?” Brawler yells. His shoulders heave up and down.
“Alright,” Mag says with finality, walking into the center of our spat and eyeing each of us. “That’s enough. What’s done is done. Brawler can’t take back what’s already out there, which means he needs to complete the initiation tasks K sets forth.”
“Yeah, one of which is taking Kyla out.”
“I didn’t know he was going to set that,” Brawler answers through clenched teeth.
“He’s evil,” Oscar says. “He takes what you love most and exploits it against you, watches to see how you handle it because if you do, he knows he has you in the bag. He knows he can mold you into doing whatever he wants. If you don’t, he just discards you. The last guy who didn’t make it through initiation disappeared. Did you know that?”
I bite my lip and peek at Magnum. My first thought is maybe the guy just escaped. Maybe he wised up and walked out of the Heights, but at the same time, that’s a naïve person’s wish. Nothing happens like that without the Crew having their filthy hands in it.
Magnum runs his hands through his copper hair and doesn’t make eye contact with any of us, and especially not me.
Fuck. “What happened to him? The guy.” I force out.
Mag shrugs. “It depends on how badly you fail the tests. Some are sent away. Some are coaxed into leaving, and others are just taken out,” he says slowly, putting emphasis on each word like it’s a stab to my gut. “They end that way because the recruit realizes in the middle of initiation that they really didn’t want it. If they try to leave, they’re killed. If they try to defect with help of a rival gang in exchange for secrets, they’re tortured and then killed.”
“Your cousin defected...”
Mag scratches his unruly scruff. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days and it’s obvious. Then again, who has time to groom when bombs are going off and you’re getting shot at? “They couldn’t find him. That’s the only reason he’s still alive. But I assure you, the only people who try to initiate and don’t make it, stick around because they busted their fucking asses and just came up short. If you’re weak, they discard you anyway. If you try to get out, you’re dead. Brawler can’t go back now.” Magnum looks over at the tattooed giant. The fighter’s body is bigger than his own by mass, but Magnum is the one who’s been around the block a few times. “I wish you’d said something. Manning wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”
Brawler narrows his gaze at Mag. “What would you know about it?”
Mag shrugs. “I initiated in with him.”
For a few moments, silence descends over the room like putrid smoke. Brawler’s nostrils flare. If any of us try to break the tension, I’m afraid he’ll just end up losing it.
“Like you said,” Brawler starts. “What’s done is done. I will not fucking apologize. I’ve got two Crew guys standing in front of me right now, I’m sure both of you can give me some tips, and together, we can figure out how the fight between Kyla and me has to go down.”
Magnum reaches out to squeeze Brawler’s shoulder. “I’m here for you.”
Oscar and I exchange glances. Red blotches reach up his neck. “We’ll figure this shit out because we have to. None of us missed the fact that Kyla is on K’s radar. He put her up against Brawler and made it into one of his initiation tasks. He wants to see her get hurt.”
“It’s Johnny’s reaction to her,” Mag says. “Johnny suddenly has more loyalty to her than him, and he’s furious about it.”
Brawler falls back onto the couch. “He won’t let it go? Not even for Johnny?”
“Johnny is everything to him,” Mag answers. “But this has everything to do with the Crew, and there’s family dynamics at play here, too.”
He killed his wife for leaving, so he won’t think twice about taking me out. Johnny and Mag know that as well as me. Until Johnny comes clean about the secret he told Magnum, I’ll keep that piece of information I’m not supposed to know to myself. However, with the way Magnum is looking at me, I know he’s thinking the same thing. I’m nothing to K compared to his wife. Presumably, he must have loved her at one time.
I’m just as dispensable as any of the guys sitting around his table. Perhaps even more so because I have tits and a vag. I get sick during big boy discussions. I can’t even control myself around his son, tempting him to the dark side with pussy.
There’s no way around it. K’s gunning for me. I don’t fit into his plans for the Crew. Not when I’m a distraction.
“I have to head back to my place,” I tell them. I need to be there when Johnny gets out of his extra meeting turned physical abuse session.
I sneak past Magnum, but don’t make it any further.
“Hey,” a chorus of voices call out.
Strong, tan hands snake around me from behind. Oscar’s smell engulfs me. The lithe, taut feel of his body presses against my back. “I was so worried,” he whispers. “Don’t do that to me again.”
I turn around in his arms, allowing him to make me feel safe for a brief moment before I pop up on my tiptoes to give him a solid kiss on his mouth. “I’ll try.”
Brawler’s next. A broken man stares back at me as soon as Oscar steps away. I make the first move. I wrap my arms around his big shoulders and kiss the light angel on the side of his neck. “We’ll get through this,” I tell him.
“You don’t hate me?”
I take his face in my hands, making sure he’s looking at me when I say, “I could never hate you. I did think about strangling you though.”
He slips into a small smile. “I did it for you.”
“I know,” I tell him, swallowing down the bile that accompanies that thought. I never want someone to risk their life for me.
He pulls me up to meet his lips, turning the kiss deeper as soon as our mouths press together. Liquid heat fills me. I’d love nothing more than to sit back with these three and comfort one another about the tasks we have in front of us, but I need to make sure Johnny’s okay before we do any of that.
Brawler sets me on my feet. He holds me steady before I turn to find Mag waiting for me. “Jacob...”
Tension leaves his body like a heavy rain washed away all the negativity. He pulls me close and presses a kiss to my forehead. “We’re all here for him,” he whispers. “Make sure he knows that.”
I nod, and he tilts my chin up to press a chaste kiss to my mouth. Our lips linger together, just touching without going further. A tease. A promise.
“I’ll tell him,” I say, and then I squeeze his hand and walk from his place.
I can’t keep doing this me and Johnny life versus the me, Brawler, Mag, and Oscar life. The part Johnny doesn’t know is that he’s already involved in the other half.
There’s a spot for him. He only has to take it.
19
The elevator opens as I sneak across to my room. I stop in the middle of the hall, peering up as Johnny storms out. His wild hair a halo around his head. He’s disheveled, the collar on his shirt stretched out, and murder radiates from his eyes.
“Where’s Brawler?” he demands. “Is he in here?” he asks, pointing toward Mag’s apartment. “There?” he asks, moving an accusing finger to my door.
I step in front of him, terror seizing me as I gape at his appearance. “Are you okay?”
I twist his face back and forth to see if he’s hurt again, but Johnny wrenches his face from my grip. “I’m fine.”
The door opens behind me, and Johnny gently moves me out of the way to step up to Mag. “Is Brawler in there?”
He doesn’t leave Mag enough time to answer. He elbows him out of the way and strides into the room. Mag follows after, and I’m right on his heels. When I get in, Johnny has Brawler pushed against the side of the couch, leaning over him, his face a mask of torture and anger that pains me. “If you hurt her, I will kill you. Do you understand me? I will fucking kill you.”
Mag pulls Johnny from Brawler, allowing the latter to stand. My fighter didn’t fight back even though I know he could have. He didn’t because we’re all on the same team, whether Johnny knows it or not.
“I’m not going to hurt Kyla. That’s the last thing I want to do. I joined the Crew to help her.”
Mag still has an arm around Johnny, holding him back while he breathes through his nose.
“I didn’t know your dad was going to do that.” Brawler shakes his head, pure agony lancing his face, and I don’t know how Johnny couldn’t believe him. “If I’d known, I never would have done it.”
I shimmy my way between Magnum and Johnny and grip Johnny’s wrist. He peers down at me.
“It’s true,” I tell him. “Brawler wouldn’t hurt me.”
“None of us would hurt her, dude,” Oscar says.
Johnny roars, upheaving the table in front of the couch. It slams to the floor as he yells, “Everything is so fucked.”
He’s not wrong, and I don’t have anything to say that will tell him any different because it does seem as if we’re backed into a corner here. Brawler and I have to fight. There’s no getting out of it. That damage is already done.
So is Brawler’s fate with the Crew.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him. It sounds lame as fuck, but it’s all the positive talk I have.
“You’re all willing to help Kyla?” Johnny asks, glaring around the room, begging them to say otherwise. Whatever he had to endure in his father’s suite, he looks as if he’s ready to retaliate on someone else.
He won’t find a fight here. Magnum, Oscar, and Brawler nod.
“Above yourselves? Above your own well-being?”
I bite my lip as they all nod again. The unity in the room makes the space feel smaller as if we all really might be able to help each other. As a team, like I’m hoping for.
“I’m not some fainting, prissy girl,” I say, speaking up. “I can help myself, too.”
Magnum shoots me a warning look, but I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me. Truly.
“I’d help any one of you, too,” I say, looking around the room, making sure they see the truth in my eyes.
They ignore me, but Oscar steps up to Johnny. “The same better apply to you.”
“I will not let anything happen to her.”
“Your dad—” Mag starts.
Johnny cuts him off. “I know. I’ve seen the look before.”
“You have to toe the line, man. Kyla doesn’t think when she worries about you, and vice versa. Don’t let him get to you. That’s what he wants. He wants you to force his hand.”
“He won’t touch her. I can promise you that.”
I don’t think anyone believes him. I certainly don’t. There’s no way Johnny can promise us that because his father is a loose cannon. He does what he wants when he wants. That’s how he got to the top of the Heights Crew. Ruthless, unforgiving tyranny.
“Let’s sit and discuss things,” Mag says. “We need to be smart about this. Together, I think we can come up with a good plan.”
I’m glad Mag is taking point on this. It’s a natural solution because Johnny respects him, and he’s the one Johnny knows the most.
They share a silent communication, but whatever Mag was trying to communicate doesn’t go over as well as he’d hoped.
Johnny strides over, taking my hand. He squeezes me, then leads me from the room. I go with him instead of pushing it. Johnny needs time. The only person he’s ever trusted in this world beats him and killed his mother. His hesitation is more than understood.
He leads me across the hall, stopping briefly to unlock my apartment door with his own key. When we get into my place, he drops my arm and starts to pace.
I watch him for a little while. His mind is working to fix all of this on his own. He can pull that with the others, but not with me. I walk in front of him, stopping him. He’s so preoccupied he almost rams right into me, stopping himself at the last possible moment.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “I know he hit you again, Johnny. I heard it.”
Johnny pulls his shirt up, looking down at the same time as he reveals every inch of a red splotch over his abs. “He punched me. Not in the face this time. I think he realized how nervous it made everyone to see me like that, so he did it some place no one could see.”
My fingers trail over the mark lightly, and he shies away. “We should get you some ice.”
“Ice isn’t going to fix this, babe.”
“One problem at a time,” I tell him. I retreat to the freezer, grabbing out an actual ice pack I asked housekeeping to deliver before the night of the accident. For as much as we need it, we should buy stock in these damn things. Maybe we’d get a free lifetime supply.
I pull his hand and make him sit on the couch with me. “Shirt off,” I tell him.
He grins at me. “You always want to get me shirtless.”
“Stop being so hot, and I wouldn’t have that problem.”
Heat burns behind his eyes as he slowly shucks his shirt off, tossing it on the arm of the couch. I place the ice pack on his welt, and he sucks in a breath.
“Sorry,” I cringe.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s kind of my fault. It’s because of me you’re getting hurt.”
He cringes. “I hate that you even know this. If he hadn’t hit me in the goddamn face, we wouldn’t have this problem. I’m not weak, Kyla. I just—”