Always Crew (Crew Series Book 3)

by Tijan

  I stepped back. “Bren said yes?”

  He nodded. “Then, that’s different. You’re giving us the choice to wade in or not. Do more of that shit and we’re good.”

  “Right.”

  “Right.” Another dark glare at him, but my brother was standing down, accepting what I said. And because I actually didn’t want to risk getting into a physical fight with him, I turned on my heel and went back inside.

  Blaise followed a beat later.

  He kept to his side. I kept to mine.

  We were fine, that way.

  From: Cross

  To: Tazsters

  Subject: Yes, payback is a bitch.

  Stay tuned.

  —always the best twin

  BREN

  Things were good, until they weren’t.

  I went to work, helped in the field, but Brock also gave me a huge book. He pointed at it as he walked by. “You gotta learn all of that before you take your test.”

  My test. I needed to pass a test before I was an official bounty hunter? Seems like I actually was a student.

  After work a few times, I met Cross at his school’s library for a study session.

  Okay, I lied. I was trying to make myself sound like a better student than I was. The study session happened one time, and never again. A college library, or a library of any sorts, was not a place I wanted to be in unless I was going in wearing a vest, my Taser gun at the ready, and a radio clipped to my shoulder. The rest of the week, I went to work.

  I went on bail jumps. I helped where I could, stood back when I was told.

  I came home.

  I ate or met Cross and Jordan for dinner.

  After that, Cross and I studied. In the bedroom. Our living room. Outside. A diner. Anywhere except at a library.

  Cross liked the downtime, even though I learned that he actually didn’t need to study that much. He was ‘going through the motions.’ I asked about it, and he sighed with a shy little smile that made my knees melt.

  “I like the normalcy.”

  “What?”

  He shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. “You know, we’re just studying. Normal. We’re not fighting or searching for a drug dealer I want to kill, or your drug dealer ex. No one’s being taken to the hospital. You know, normal. Quiet.”

  “You like the quiet?”

  He nodded, his eyes shifting to the floor for a beat. “Yeah. I feel settled. I’m not worried that someone I love is going to be taken away from me.”

  Right.

  I was rocked, rocked, but right.

  That made sense.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “You like the normalcy.”

  Another nod from him. “I like it when you’re next to me.”

  Well.

  Then.

  Warmth spread through me at that last statement.

  My throat swelled up, but I didn’t know why, and I didn’t have the words, so I went back to studying. Normal. Quiet.

  Guess I’d be studying more from now on.

  And those nights when it was just Cross and me at the house, I felt the quiet. I was okay with the quiet. And knowing how Cross felt about it, I was really okay with it now. I could do that.

  That was the goal until Jordan came home. Two out of the four nights, he had a girl with him.

  I saw both of his guests. I didn’t know either of them.

  The other two nights, Jordan had people come over. They were from a couple of his classes. One was the psych class he shared with Cross, so for those nights, the peace wasn’t so peaceful. A couple of the guys wanted to talk with Cross. A few of the girls wanted to flirt with him. He was polite to the guys, shot the girls down, and took my hand, leading me upstairs to my room those nights just to escape.

  Jordan shot me an apologetic grin each time.

  It was Friday now, and tonight was when the quiet stopped being quiet.

  BREN

  My phone was ringing, and it took a hot second for me to realize that it wasn’t the alarm.

  Cross lifted his head up, looking, and he reached over me. Checking the screen, he moved back and sat up on his side of the bed. “There a reason you’re calling thirty minutes before she needs to wake up?”

  I frowned, but I wasn’t frowning enough to sit up because he was right. I had thirty more sleeping minutes to go.

  I heard murmuring from the other end, then Cross looked at me. His face tightened, even with his hair sticking up, and he still looked good. He had stopped shaving very recently, so he had a nice patch of gruff hair there, enough that it was distracting me that he was on my phone and not looking happy about it.

  “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

  He hung up, tossing the phone onto his nightstand.

  I waited.

  He shook his head. “Not yet.” He wasn’t the only one checking the other out. His voice came out rough, “Sleep or something else before I have to tell you who was on the phone?”

  There’d be no sleeping now, so I smiled and pulled down the bedsheet.

  A wolfish smile took over his face and he was over and on top of me within seconds.

  We went two rounds, long past my alarm, and Cross was just coming out from the shower. I was tugging my shirt down and met his gaze in the mirror. “You have to tell me now.”

  His whole face tightened, but he sighed. Reaching for a towel, he raked it over his head. “That was your brother.”

  I don’t want to say my heart stopped. That would’ve been an exaggeration, but it paused. My chest tightened. That was more accurate because Channing calling that early in the morning was never a good sign.

  I had my hair pick in my hand, but I set it back down and flattened my palm against the counter. I needed that foundation to stop the shaking. I looked down at it, too. “No one died, or you would’ve told me that right away.”

  “No.”

  I waited, breath suspended.

  He was silent, and that fact alone told me it was still bad.

  I closed my eyes, still waiting.

  “You know your brother. You know how he is when it comes to you and… Your dad is here again.”

  “What?”

  “He’s already here.”

  “What?”

  Cross sighed before moving into the bedroom. He went to the closet, and I followed, his voice trailing out to where I waited by the bed. “Channing got the call by a cop buddy of his. Your dad’s in Cain. Channing thought the Red Demons had put him up somewhere. He didn’t want you to be caught by surprise, so he called for the heads-up.”

  My dad was here.

  Okay, then.

  He hadn’t called. He’d probably call, or maybe he wouldn’t call.

  I no longer knew what I was feeling or if I was feeling anything at all when it came to him. I mean, he’d already been here. Then he left, now he was back again? But not because of me. Because of… Because of why?

  Why was he here?

  Cross came back, his eyes gentle and studying me. “You okay?”

  I stiffened, but nodded. “Yeah. I mean, yeah.”

  What did I say here? I had no clue.

  Cross grimaced, his mouth curving down. “I could skip my classes? Ride along with you? I’m sure Brock would be okay with that.”

  I shook my head, clearing my throat. “No. No. That’s fine. That’s okay.”

  “Bren.” He moved closer, but he didn’t touch me.

  I was glad he was giving me that space.

  His head bent, and he was within touching distance. He did that on purpose, letting me make the choice or not.

  He said, “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  I moved to leave since I was dressed and ready. He caught my hand, pulling me back. No words were shared, just a last look, and I gave him another nod. “I’m good. I promise. This stuff with my dad, it’s just complicated, but I got a handle on it.”

  Then, pulling my hand free, I left the room.

  Jordan was just coming up
from the basement. He had a nine a.m. class, but it was early for him. Seeing me, he paused, still on the stairs, grimacing.

  I braked. “What?”

  That look said enough.

  “I seriously need some coffee,” came from behind him, and his eyes closed. He took a second before he stepped out into the hallway. He cleared the stairs, and I was blessed with the vision of Jessinda Hinkley herself.

  She paused, her mouth falling open. She’d been fixing her bra strap, with her hair needing to be combed through. A red tank top over jeans that were more like a second skin, high heels, hoop earrings, and even though she had washed her face, there were still remnants of eyeliner underneath her eyes.

  I was guessing Jordan had gone to a party last night.

  Jordan coughed, clearing his throat, and gestured over his shoulder. “I—uh—coffee. I can do that. Bren? You want some?”

  Jessinda was Tab’s sister. I was pretty sure this was sister code violation.

  She closed her mouth, coughing, too, and came up the last few steps. She glanced at my feet before giving me a once-over. “I… Yeah. So, you and Jordan live together, huh?”

  I leveled Jordan with a look. “Is this you getting back at Tab?” Because he had said he’d be moving on to her sisters.

  He cringed, his hand raking through his hair. “No.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “It’s not.” He motioned to Jessinda, then let his hand drop by his side. “It just happened.”

  And I had nothing to say to that. Turning, I started for the kitchen.

  Jordan went to stand in front of the coffee machine, shirtless and only in his sweats. I was counting the nail scratches on his back when he looked over his shoulder. Seeing my gaze, he cursed under his breath. Three coffee mugs were set on the counter, creamer next to them. The machine began to spew.

  “It’s not that, Bren. I promise.”

  I didn’t have time to deal with that anyways. “My dad’s in town.”

  His gaze sharpened and he wheeled completely around. “What?!”

  Jessinda had been moving across the kitchen but faltered at hearing his reaction.

  I added, indicating her, “You know me. Tell Tab yourself. Don’t make me do it.”

  “Fuck.” His head reared back, and he glared at the ceiling. “Crew, Bren. Crew!”

  I pointed at Jessinda. “Friend code. Tab lectured me last year about it. Don’t put me in that position.”

  “I’ve chosen you over her so many times—”

  “This isn’t quite the same and you know it.”

  A pent-up growl erupted from him, but he sighed right after. “Yeah. I know. I’ll tell her.”

  “Wait.” Jessinda’s last foot came down hard on the floor. She snapped out, “What?”

  Jordan skimmed her over, his mouth tightening. “I’m not dating Tab anymore. I’ve not actually done anything wrong. Bren’s hardcore with her loyalty, and she’s not loyal to you right now. You’re the one who violated your code, so you gotta call her and tell her.”

  Her mouth had been hanging open, and it snapped shut. “You’re fucking with me?”

  Jordan shook his head, resigned.

  She swung my way.

  I gave her a hard stare back. “Do not even think you can scare me. Do not play that game. You won’t win.” And with that said, I was done.

  The coffee had churned enough. Jordan poured one of the mugs, then handed it over to me. He lifted his chin up. “Your dad, huh?”

  I sighed, taking the cup. All the fight in me left with that one question, all in a sudden whoosh. “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged, but my throat was burning. “Me too.”

  Cross was coming out from the bedroom.

  He stopped just short of the stairs, taking in the scene.

  I didn’t say anything. He didn’t either, but we watched each other as I passed by, heading for the door. It was enough, and I drew in some needed strength from Jordan, and from that look with Cross, and somehow, it worked.

  The tightness in my chest loosened.

  BREN

  I walked inside Coug r Lanes and my first encounter was Brock, coming my way.

  There was a whole storm on his face. I stepped back, more out of self-preservation, but he swept past me. His hand took my arm and he pulled me right back outside, right back where I’d come from.

  “Hey. Hello.”

  I pulled my arm from his grasp. “Don’t touch me like that again.”

  He held his hands up. “Sorry.” His eyes went past me, to the door. “You know who’s in there?”

  “What?”

  “Your fath—”

  That was all I needed to hear.

  I swept right back inside, and there he was. I would’ve seen him the first time if Brock hadn’t distracted me.

  Sitting in a booth, one of the only three we had along those walls, his back was to the door. Papers were spread out in front of him. A cup of coffee and a pitcher on the table. He had a small plate, and what looked like the last crumbles of a muffin. There was a laptop opened up as well.

  I stepped so I was right in front of him, and he looked up. A slow smile spread over his face, but he was expecting me. Well, he was in my workplace, so that was a no-shit moment.

  “Bren!”

  “Dad.” I took in the papers. They were applications. A pair of reading glasses was on the other side of the laptop, along with a cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m applying for jobs.” He shot a grin over my shoulder. “I didn’t think they’d hire me here, but I was tempted. You looking for more help manning the bowling alley? I know a bit of maintenance, could help fix things when they break.”

  Brock’s voice was low and tense. “I’m thinking that’s a pass.”

  Derrick laughed.

  My dad. Derrick.

  My head was swimming.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Brock settled behind me, his hand coming down on the table. “You can’t stay here.”

  “Why not?” He motioned to me. “I thought I could be here, do some work, and be here when my daughter had some free time? I promise to keep ordering if that’s the issue.”

  “That’s not the issue, and you know it.”

  Brock nudged me, so I shifted, facing him and my dad at the same time. My back was now mostly turned toward the door.

  “He’s here to keep tabs on us.” Brock raised his voice, more speaking to my dad than me. “Red Demons know that we’re closing in on where the big wigs are hiding, and they want all eyes on us that they can get. It ain’t going to happen. You have to leave, Mr. Monroe.”

  I closed my eyes, memories assaulting me.

  “...we’re charging Mr. Monroe with the assault and murder of …”

  It washed over me, with the feels, the smells. The stale beer assaulting my nose. The dried sweat. The metallic smell of the blood. How blood could have a smell was beyond me, but it did.

  I could feel the knife in my hand again.

  The sound of his footsteps.

  “Honey?”

  My eyes snapped open. I was jarred back to reality, and I stared hard at my dad. “You have to leave.”

  “But, Bren—”

  “NOW!”

  I didn’t want to go back there. If him being here was bringing memories from that first night, I didn’t want to endure what else I’d go through, again. The longer he stayed, the more I’d have to fight through.

  “Bren—” He started to slide out of the booth.

  It wasn’t fast enough. None of it was fast enough.

  I needed Brock off of my back.

  I needed my dad out of my life.

  I needed all of it gone.

  I grabbed his computer, snapping it shut, and was out the door in two steps. Heaving it over my head, I threw it as far as I could. Vehicles were pulling into the parking lot. I heard the crumble of the dirt under their tires, and I kn
ew others had come out to watch what was going on, but I ignored all of them.

  I had to.

  My heart was pounding.

  My hands were sweaty.

  I felt like I was having a panic attack right then and there. No. I was having a panic attack.

  Going back inside, my dad hadn’t moved. Brock too. Both were still in place, and I bent, sweeping the rest of his papers into my hands. Those followed behind his laptop. I tossed it all as hard as I could, but some flew back in the wind. A few even sailed right back inside.

  I stepped on one, and I was almost dry heaving looking at what else he had there.

  His phone.

  His glasses.

  I reached for both, but he jerked forward. Grabbing his phone, he stepped into me and wrapped his arms around me. “Sweetheart—”

  “I’m not your sweetheart!” I ripped myself from his arms.

  Another man in a matter of minutes who decided to touch me. He didn’t have that right. Brock hadn’t either. I was going feral again, the need to teach them both a lesson.

  I waited, my hand ready, and I glared at him. “Get out. Get. Out. GET OUT!”

  “Hon—!” he tried to yell at me, and he reached.

  He shouldn’t have reached for me.

  My arm moved back. My hand pulled out my knife, and I embedded it in his arm, right in the fleshiest part. His eyes went wide, staring at it. His face paled. “Bren!”

  Someone else gasped behind me.

  I felt hands on my shoulders, and I growled, whirling around.

  It was Hawk. She stepped back, releasing me immediately. “Bren.”

  God.

  I hated that tone. Soft. Soothing. Like I was a fucking animal that needed to be tamed. Domesticated.

  Fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck my dad. Fuck everyone.

  My phone was ringing.

  I heard it jarring, and then I felt it, and I pulled it out.

  Channing calling.

  I answered it, “I just stabbed Dad.”

  There was total and complete silence on his end. Then, a soft, “Bren?”

  “I want him gone. Now.”

  “Are you hurt?”