Red Thorns: Red Thorns Crew Book 1

by Hart, Rebel

  She took my hands. “Look, Dani. All you have is a harmless crush. Every college girl gets them. Every girl, at least once in her life, has a major crush on some guy that doesn’t suit her life. Or fit her parents. Or doesn’t fall in line with what she wants in life. It’s a rite of passage.”

  “How do I get it to go away, though? I can’t do my entire semester this distracted. I’ll fail.”

  “I know you, Dani. You won’t fail. You might get some Cs, but you certainly won’t fail.”

  “That’s practically failing in my world.”

  She sighed. “Then you need to come out with me and make some real friends.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t turn this into a way to get me to go to this party tonight.”

  She pulled me up from my chair. “You can either listen to me or not. But I’m telling you, once you surround yourself with good people it’ll be harder for asshole bullies to get to you. That’s what’s happening right now. The two of them sound like bullies and they’re getting under your skin.”

  “Then, aren’t I supposed to hate them or something?”

  “What you’ll realize is that there’s a very fine line between hate and love. Boys like those dickheads get off on getting reactions out of you. If you stop reacting, they’ll stop teasing.”

  “In my experience, that just makes the teasing worse.”

  “For a while, sure. Until they get fed up. Take away the stimuli, and they’ll eventually seek it elsewhere.”

  I paused. “Nice to see you’re paying attention in your own classes.”

  She scoffed. “It’s not like I failed any of my classes. I just know when to buckle down and when to have a good time.”

  “You’re going to drag me to this party, aren’t you?”

  “You better believe it.”

  I groaned. “But crowds of people make me feel so--”

  She tugged me closer to her. “I know you’re shy. I know you get anxious in crowds sometimes. But I’ll be there. Being shy isn’t going to serve you well anymore. Not here. Not in college. You need to be making connections. You need to be making friends. If you can’t make connections here, then you won’t be able to make professional connections out there. In the world. Once we graduate. Got it?”

  I nodded. “You do make a decent point.”

  “I know I do. Now, I can introduce you to some nice people tonight. People who, if you give them the chance, will have your back after some time. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds easier said than done.”

  “But does it sound like something you want?”

  I sighed. “Yeah. It--it would be nice to have other people I could count on other than you.”

  She smiled. “Good. Wonderful. Okay. We’re going to get you out of these pajamas and into something more party appropriate.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Nothing tight, okay? I really didn’t like that white shirt.”

  “Then don’t own any shirts like that. Throw it out. All of these things I’m dressing you up in are from your wardrobe. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine, fine. Okay.”

  “Dani, I’ll be by your side the entire night. Just trust me, okay?”

  I sighed heavily before I pulled my hands out from the grip of hers.

  “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

  Hannah smiled. “Great. All right. Let’s start by rummaging through your clothes and seeing what we can come up with.”

  The idea of my pizza night in quickly fell away as my best friend practically demolished my side of the room. She tossed clothes at me to try on before shaking her head and making me discard it. I had shirts and jeans and sweatpants crumpled on the floor and hanging off my bed. She started pulling things off hangers, tossing them to me and making me twirl for her. And after almost an hour of this nonsense, I finally had an outfit she approved of.

  Where did I keep getting these tight clothes from, though?

  Mom must’ve snuck them into my suitcases.

  “You. Look. Amazing.”

  I tugged at the light blue tank top. “Can I wear something over this?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. It’s a warm summer night. Jeans and a tank top with those heels of yours is going to slay the competition tonight.”

  “Compet--what competition?”

  “Hush. Quit panicking. It’s a figure of speech. Girls always want to bring their best to parties like this. Especially parties in dorms that aren’t theirs. Now it’s my turn to get ready. Give me twenty minutes and we’ll be on our way.”

  At least she’s not putting makeup on you this time.

  “Oh, and slather on some lip gloss. And use my blush, too. You don’t want the lights at the party to wash you out.”

  I sighed. “I can do that.”

  While Hannah got ready, I gazed at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of our door. I swear, I’d never seen this tank top in my life. Nor had I seen these heels before. There was no question in my mind that Mom had snuck these into my wardrobe when I wasn’t looking. But wouldn’t I have seen them when I was unpacking?

  Unless…

  “Are you putting your clothes in my drawers, Hannah?”

  She snickered. “Now, why the hell would I do that?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Hannah.”

  She clicked her tongue. “Hush, I’m putting on mascara.”

  “Are you sticking your clothes in my drawers so you can make me wear them for these parties of yours?”

  She sighed. “I mean, you do look hot.”

  “Hannah!”

  “What!? Dani, you have shit clothes. Baggy jeans, terribly scuffed tennis shoes, and baggy long-sleeve shirts. I don’t think you even own a short-sleeved shirt! I’m not giving you good clothes. Just some basics. T-shirts, a tank top here and there. Heels I know I’m not going to wear.”

  “I like how I dress.”

  “Yeah, and so does the Catholic Church.”

  “Hannah, it’s--”

  She jammed her mascara closed. “Look, Dani. I know this makes you uncomfortable. But if you’re going to complain about something? Be prepared to fix it. You want friends? They aren’t coming to you. You have to go out and find them. And finding them means not blending in long enough so they can notice you. This isn’t about vanity anymore, Dani. This is about you feeling comfortable enough in your own skin to show yourself to the world and say, ‘Hey! I’m worth knowing.’ And no one’s going to know you how I know you if they can’t even pick you out from a crowd.”

  She had a very good point.

  “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  She packed up her makeup. “No need to be sorry. Just stop fighting me every step of the damn way and trust the process. I’m not trying to change you. I’m trying to elevate you a little bit. Plus, you’re going to die of sweat in a long-sleeved shirt at something like this. Especially if you’re drinking.”

  “I don’t want a drink.”

  “Then take a drink and hold it so no one else gives you one.”

  The trick came back to memory. “Yes. I can do that.”

  Hannah slipped into her heels. “Good. Because I’m ready to go. You with me? Or are you going to keep complaining?”

  She offered her arm to me and I slipped mine around hers.

  “Ready when you are,” I said.

  The two of us marched out of our room and headed for the elevator. And I mentally prepared myself for finding a new friend tonight.

  Even if I had to die of embarrassment in order to do it.

  14

  Max

  “Get him to the car. Now!” I roared.

  I watched Rupert rip Mr. Dean off the floor as the shadows began to move. A bullet whizzed by my head and my vision started pulsing. Tunneling. Dripping with red as I aimed the sights of my pistols into the unseen corners. I popped off two shots while listening to my men scramble through the doors. Benji appeared, his gun drawn and his eyes wide. Panic settled in my veins.

  He was m
uch too good for this kind of life.

  “Get down! Now!” I roared.

  My men hit the floor, and relief flooded my veins when I saw Benji was out of harm’s way.

  “Fall back. Fall back now!”

  I popped off a warning shot right beside the head of the club owner, letting him know exactly where my next bullet would go if he so much as got up from that fucking floor. I covered Rupert’s escape as he dragged our client out through the front door, heading straight for that damn limo. I tucked my guns away and ripped the door open. Rupert practically threw the man into the backseat with his bare hands. And after closing the door, I banged on the top of the car, signaling the limo to drive away.

  “Two! Six! Seven! Go with the limo, now!”

  My voice boomed over the chorus of chaos before I heard bikes striking up. All of my men had numbers. Numbers that we were assigned at the start of every job. I never felt comfortable enough yelling their names, so numbers were the next best thing. And as I watched Benji ride off down the road with two other guys to follow that damn limo wherever it was headed, I drew in steady breaths.

  Because we still had a job here to clean up.

  The sound of glass shattering and tires screeching turned my head. I saw the club owner on the curb by the dark alleyway, his gun leveled at the limo. Rupert took off, ready to disarm the man as I pulled my guns back out. And as the limo careened around the corner with three of my men following it, I watched Benji turn around and pop off two shots that embedded themselves into the concrete.

  Directly at the feet of the club owner from a fucking moving bike.

  Boy’s always been a damn good shot.

  “One, look out!”

  Rupert’s voice grabbed my attention and my senses went into overload. I felt the men behind me as I spun around, leveling my guns in front of me. The sound of gunshots rang out around us, filling the space with gunpowder, heat, and anger. I focused as I popped the men in their knees, refusing to kill anyone tonight. The guns lurched in my hands and explosive force emanated from my body as I focused my energy on getting my men the hell out of this shitstorm.

  Then I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye.

  A very broad man stood in the doorway of the club, but his gun was leveled in a different direction. I followed the barrel of his gun to find his target, and what I saw made my blood boil. I moved my guns toward him and fired without a second thought. He was staring right at Rupert. My best fucking friend.

  The only sound that met my ears was a click.

  I heard men chuckling around me. Gunfire sounded in the alleyway as Rupert pinned the club owner to the ground. And in a split-second decision, I dropped my guns, dug my feet into the concrete and took off at lightning speed, hunched over and ready to knock this asshole off his feet.

  “Rupert, look out!” I roared.

  My voice was distraction enough.

  The man grunted as I ran straight into his stomach. I knocked him back into the club, onto the floor that kicked up dust around us. I straddled the man and threw the first punch, feeling his nose breaking against my knuckles. I watched him fiddling with his gun so I wrapped my hand around his wrist, smashing it against the ground, over and over, watching his grip weaken.

  Finally I smashed his hand down against a rusty nail protruding from the floor.

  “What the fuck!”

  “Let go of the goddamn gun.”

  The growl of my voice sounded like someone else. I felt my nostrils flaring as the beast inside rattled against its cage. My eyes widened and I threw another punch. And then another. And then another still. I felt the man’s faceplate shattering with every hit. He gurgled on his own damn blood as it poured from his nose and seeped from his ears.

  I’d show this man no mercy for pointing a gun at Rupert.

  I didn’t even hear the gunshot before the bullet grazed my shoulder. The searing pain was enough to pull me from my trance. The man beneath me groaned as I hissed with shock. Then I felt someone grip my leather jacket.

  “Get the hell off him.”

  I slipped out of my jacket and spun around, ready for another fight. The club owner stood there with wide eyes and disheveled hair. I mean, he looked like he was high on something.

  “Bring it,” I glowered.

  “Guards! Get him!”

  The trampling of feet behind me sprang me into action. I hooked around with my right fist, connecting with the club owner’s jaw, knocking him out cold. I scooped up my leather jacket and tossed it around my shoulders as I ran out the door, my head swiveling to look for Rupert.

  “Two! Where the fuck are you!?” I roared.

  I heard a bike engine revving as footsteps grew louder behind me. Three short revs and a long one. Three short revs and a long one.

  The club’s universal signal for ‘Get the fuck out of Dodge.’

  With pain inching down my arm, I dashed for my bike. There were too many of those assholes around here for the five of us that were still left to take care of this place. I’d have words with Mr. Dean about it, but not tonight.

  Right now, I had to get my men out of here.

  “Two!” I bellowed.

  I threw my leg over my bike as four brawny security men dressed in all black poured onto the sidewalk.

  “Two!” I roared.

  “Right here! I’m right here! Come on, One. We have to get out of here!”

  I watched Rupert race down the road, leaving me in his dust. I counted my men as they filtered out of the alleyway, making sure I had everyone before I pushed away from the curb. Gunfire exploded behind us. Bullets whizzed and I heard the shattering of rear lights as we sped away. I pulled up beside Rupert and saw his bloodied nose. His eye was already swelling and turning black. And as I studied my men while making my way to the front of the pack, anger flared in my gut.

  I hit the throttle on my bike, leaving that damn club in my dust with my men in tow.

  We barely made it out of there alive.

  As we cut our way through town, all of my thoughts fell back to my fucking father. He could’ve gotten us all killed with a job like this. I was under the impression that risks were minimized. That we weren’t to expect firefights unless absolutely necessary. But a ten-minute meeting before the club owner opened fire on us?

  It was almost like we should’ve expected war in the first fucking place.

  It’s a miracle no one’s dead right now.

  The pain in my arm blossomed like a damn flower all the way down to my fingertips. My men had gotten very roughed up tonight. And this was only the first night of guarding this asshole. I needed more information. I needed to know who the hell this character was, what the fuck had happened in that meeting, and I needed someone to foot the bill for the things we needed. Decent earpieces. Extra magazines to carry with us. Hell, some bulletproof gear, too. We weren’t prepared for war. We weren't prepared to usher a slaughterer through these streets.

  And if that was the expectation, then we needed gear.

  I led the guys down Alleyway Cove, one of the main streets in our fair city where every single offshoot for three blocks was nothing but alleyways. Dark streets with no lamps that twisted and turned with one-way signs and yield signs for days. It was the perfect place to split up. To find our way back to our own home bases so we could recuperate and lay low.

  So, with a flick of my wrist, I dismissed what was left of my crew.

  Then I set my sights on that college campus to make sure Benji had gotten back all right.

  15

  Dani

  The dimmed lights of the dorm building made it hard to navigate. But Hannah kept me close. With a cocktail of sweetness and rum in my hand, I followed her through the crowd, trying my best to put on a smile and not get grossed out at every person that shoved by me.

  “Hey.”

  “Get out of the way.”

  “That’s my man you’re touching!”

  Hannah whipped around. “She doesn’t want your scra
wny man. She’s into men with muscles and substance.”

  I paused. “I am?”

  “Yep. Now, come on. I want to introduce you to someone.”

  The more tense I grew, the more I watched people around me. All of them seemed to be relaxed. Centered. Sure of themselves. And all of these people had one thing in common. They all had these red cups in their hands, filled with drinks they sucked down to keep them from sloshing over the edge.

  Like the red cup I was holding.

  “What’s this drink, anyway?” I asked.

  Hannah tugged me off to the side. “Dani, this is Rachel. She’s in choir with me.”

  The girl waved. “Hi.”

  I paused. “I didn’t know you sang.”

  Hannah snickered. “I don’t. I just needed the elective.”

  Rachel sipped her drink. “What’s your name again?”

  Hannah laughed. “How many of those have you had?”

  Rachel grinned. “Probably enough.”

  I watched her chug down the drink before I gazed into my own cup. The yellow liquid stared back at me with notes of coconut overwhelming my nostrils. It didn’t smell terrible. And it didn’t look unappetizing. I’d never had a drink like this before, though. A beer here and there with Hannah, sure. I hated beer, though. It wasn’t hard to refuse a second one.

  This drink made my mouth water.

  “What’s your major?” Rachel asked.

  I took a sip of my drink and choked it down.

  “Uh, human resources. You?”

  The girl smiled. “English. I want to teach and write on the side.”

  I took another sip. “That’s awesome. What year are you?”

  “I’m a junior. And I know, I know. Still on campus and all. But I like the atmosphere and it saves me money on rent. Rent around here would be so much more expensive than just getting my own private dorm room.”