by Tijan
I didn’t answer.
“Bren!”
I locked eyes with Cross, but he just stared back. I knew we were feeling the same resignation. This was another day in our lives.
“What do you want me to say?”
Channing cursed, then cursed some more. He paused, and another savage litany came out. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
I sighed into the phone. “What do you want me to say? That we’ve suddenly become different people? This is what we do. This is what we live—”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t live it anymore!”
I stopped. Six months ago, I would’ve taken those words a whole different way. Now, I just closed my eyes for a beat.
“Fine. Let’s play that game. You leave, I leave.”
“Fucking hell, Bren. Just—your crew did the cars? Is that what you’re saying?” His voice cracked, but he was calmer.
“Yeah.”
Another quiet curse under his breath. “Okay. One of those kids who tried to burn the school down, he’s saying Alex Ryerson put him up to it. Now…” He barked out that word before I could process what he’d just said, and he gentled his tone. “I don’t know if that’s true or not. What I do know is that if the kid is lying, he’s doing it intentionally. If he’s not lying—”
Now I cut him off, my hand almost breaking my phone. “If he’s not lying, Alex is going to be torn apart by everyone.” Including me.
Cross’ eyes narrowed to slits, like I knew they would at the mention of Alex’s name.
Channing spoke, quiet and calm now. “Tell me about Ryerson—Alex. He’s been in school again for a week, right?”
Channing knew Drake had handed his little brother over to us.
He also knew Alex had been in the hospital for a month to recover, and he came back to school without a crew and with a whole slew of people who hated him.
Besides trying to use his crew to beat up his cousin for family matters, not crew matters, he’d put Taz in the hospital when she got in the crossfire. Alex came back to school like a beaten dog.
I relayed all of that to Channing. “Yeah, he’s been back a week. There were a few fights, but that’s to be expected after what he did. No one who went after him like us, though. I think it was some of his old crew members pushing him around, maybe a couple jocks.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t sound okay. I hissed as I relaxed my hand.
There’d been peace. Almost four complete months of minor hiccups, and now this? Out of the blue?
Cross pushed off the wall. He strode over, his hand out, and a settled look on his face. “Give me the phone,” he murmured softly.
I handed it over. My gut was churning, but I couldn’t do anything here. I knew that.
Cross put the phone to his ear and said, “All due respect to you, Channing, but if there’s a town rivalry starting again, this isn’t your watch anymore.” His eyes held mine, fierce. “It’s our turn now.”
He was right.
Channing had run Roussou in his day. To an extent, he still did, but Cross was right. This was high school. This was ours.
I nodded, taking the phone back. I didn’t give my brother time to argue, saying over him, “We’ll let you know what happens.”
“Bren! Cross—”
I hung up.
I stood there, staring at Cross. We had to let the realization of what we’d just done wash over us. Fully. Because right now, right here, we were breaking away from everything we’d done before.
We’d always followed Channing.
He was the crew godfather, and his crew ran everything, but this was different. This wasn’t them pushing against a motorcycle club wanting to traffic drugs through town—that was their territory. This was ours.
This was right, what we’d just done.
I watched Cross’ pulse ticking in his neck. “We can stay at Jordan’s.”
That felt right. More appropriate.
“What do we tell them about Alex?” I asked.
He thought about it. “We can interrogate him first?”
His eyes held mine, a darkness shining from them. I saw it, and I felt it rising up inside of me. All that chaos I had pushed down, all the healing at counseling I’d done over the last ten weeks, my community service—I was going to shove it aside, just because Cross asked me to.
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
But as he started for the kitchen. I reached out, remembering the truck, remembering how he hadn’t gotten his release.
“Wait.” I pulled him to me, feeling him line up right where he was supposed to. Just before his mouth touched mine, I said, “We have time. I owe you something.” My hand slid down his chest, going to his jeans, and I unbuckled his pants.
He grinned, moving in, his lips grazing mine. “I’m thinking I like this something.”
I found him through his boxers and wrapped my hand around him. He groaned, dipping to kiss me fully, harder, rougher.
“Fuck,” he rasped.
I started to stroke him as he grew hard again, rising.
His hand wrapped around my back, then slid down to my hip. Lifting me in the air, Cross carried me to my room. We left the light off, shut the door, and went to my bed. He was over me until I pushed him off, my hand still moving up and down. “Back up.”
“What?”
I pushed him, guiding him to stand before the bed. I grinned at him before pulling his pants down and lowering my mouth.
“It’s my turn.”
His hands caught in my hair just as my mouth closed around him, and he surged upward. “Oh, fuck.”
Yeah. That was about right.
“You know your brother won’t let this go. He’s going to do something.”
It was five in the morning. We were camped outside of Alex Ryerson’s gym. We didn’t want to take him when he left his house. Their driveway was too long, and Drake could’ve been there. Alex wasn’t in a crew, so rules were different for him than if Drake got involved.
I grunted in response to Cross’ low warning and shifted, resting my feet on his dashboard, coffee in hand. “I know. I figure we’ll deal with him later, though.”
Five in the morning was seriously too early to do what we were about to do, especially after Cross and I had not adhered to Channing’s no fucking rule. We’d only gotten to sleep a few hours ago.
Cross yawned, rubbing his face. He shifted back, his arms crossed over his chest. “Remind me why we’re not in bed right now?”
“Because…” I yawned. “Because we wanted to grab him first before anyone else got to him. Also, we wanted to avoid my brother when he got home.”
“Oh yeah.” Cross shot me a grin. “That’s the real reason.”
“Exactly.”
But damn, it was early. I needed a coffee refill ASAP or I was going to get cranky. No one wanted that.
“Since we’re here, we should talk about things.”
My stomach twisted at Cross’ somber tone.
I looked over to find him watching me with the resigned expression we’d both worn last night.
He pressed his lips together. “Your brother’s been kind to let me stay at your house, but it was bound to end. He hates that we’re screwing under his roof.”
I grunted again. That’s all I could do to participate.
I loved my brother. I’d always loved him, but our relationship was messy. We’d had more good lately than bad, but there were still bad times. He’d officially left the house when our mom died, but he’d been mostly gone for years before that. The fact that I was still in the house was an achievement, as far as I was concerned. All the bullshit about not having sex was just bullshit. Channing didn’t talk about who he’d banged, but I knew he and Heather had started having sex way earlier than Cross and me.
Also, Channing was barely home lately. The strict curfew had slipped when his bounty-hunting business started taking off, and so did our family dinners. Cross had been sleeping in my room for almost
a full month before Channing caught him, and he flipped out, but what’d he expect?
“You think he’s going to do something if we start staying at Jordan’s?” Cross asked.
“Yes.” I ground my teeth together. “But it won’t be the way most adults deal with runaway kids, like call the cops. He’ll just sic someone from his crew on us.”
I knew I was right. Moose. Congo. Lincoln. Chad. Any of them. They all looked like a mix of professional body-builders (except Lincoln, who was lean), members of a motorcycle club, and SWAT. And when they wore their bulletproof vests for bounty-hunting runs, those guys didn’t mess around.
Cross laughed. “They wouldn’t… They wouldn’t burn down Jordan’s shed…would they?”
We shared a look and groaned.
They totally would.
I shook my head. “We can’t stay at Jordan’s.”
“Fuck.”
Exactly.
But that was a problem for later on, because Alex’s truck had just rolled into the parking lot. It was game time.
Cross and I got out, both knowing immediately how we were going to handle this. No words were needed. I jogged down to circle around from the rear as Cross went over the lot, coming at Alex just as he got out of his truck, a duffel bag in hand.
He shut the door, took one step, and stopped.
Cross was right there, his arms crossed over his chest. “Ryerson.”
Alex just sighed, dropping the bag to the ground. “You alone?” But even as he asked, he was looking for me, coming up behind him.
I didn’t cross my arms. My hands were at my sides.
Alex shook his head. “I should’ve saved my breath.” He sighed, his shoulders hunching forward. “What do you guys want?”
The hospital stay didn’t seem to have affected Alex. He was still stout, and almost as muscular as before. His round face seemed a bit harder, but maybe that was just my opinion. His eyes were a little close together, sunken in, but there was no scruff this morning.
“You sent those guys to burn the school down last night?” I asked.
Alex’s head shot up, and his eyes bulged. “What? No—what?”
“Please. Like you don’t still have loyal friends to tell you what happened last night.” I stepped in, lowering my voice so we didn’t draw attention and also for Cross, who’d gone to ice statue status.
We’d gotten our vengeance, but it’d never be enough for Cross, not after what Alex did to Taz.
“We’re telling you one of the guys squealed and said you put him up to it.” I raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become so friendly with guys from Fallen Crest Academy?”
Alex shut down and leaned back against his truck, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m confused. Are you asking if I had someone burn the school down or for tips on getting better friends?”
Cross stepped closer, his eyes almost dead. “We can beat the shit out of you now, and no one would give a damn. Remember that.”
Alex swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Wariness flashed over his face. “I’m giving you attitude because I’m not stupid enough to try anything like burning our school down. Why the hell would I do that?”
Easy answer. “So you’re not forced to attend Roussou where you’re hated, loathed, and detested?” I gave him a tight smile, narrowing my eyes. “It worked with Frisco. All those students are getting bused here or Fallen Crest. Our school goes down, and your family is wealthy enough to what? Homeschool you, if they decide not to have you attend somewhere else?”
Cross moved in. “Roussou’s hard to survive if you’re hated, but your family has money. You’re one of the exceptions in town. It’d be easy for you to go somewhere else, maybe a private school. They like to pride themselves on being safer and a better education than anywhere else around here. Fallen Crest Academy comes to mind as one of those schools.”
Cross’ tone was slightly mocking. Mine was just cold.
Alex gazed between us before holding his hands up. “I’m not going to lie and say I enjoy going to Roussou now. Shit’s different. I’ve got no friends, or yeah, maybe one or two who are scared to let anyone know they’re still friends with me, but no one who’d do that shit. I wouldn’t even roll the dice. Say I did do that, set someone up, I know word’s gonna get out as to who was behind it, and what then? I’m more hated? By all of the crews and the Normals? Please. I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb.”
He bent to pick up his bag. “I’m just surviving the end of this year. I have to do some summer school to catch up on what I missed, but after I graduate, I’m out of here. I’m not in the crew life anymore.”
He waited to see if we’d stop him, but neither of us made a move.
Going around us to the sidewalk, he stopped. “Listen. Watch my brother, okay? He didn’t come back to take over the Ryerson crew, no matter what he said. I don’t know why he’s here, but it’s not for them.”
Cross’ eyes flickered to mine, a question there.
I wondered the same thing.
Alex saw the look. “I don’t think he came back for Bren either. He enjoyed meddling in your relationship before, sending Race here to try to get between you, but I’m sharing a house with him. If he cared about either of those things, he’d be grilling me about your crew and Channing, but he’s barely home.”
“Is he with the crew?”
“No. Half the time they’re calling me to find out where he is.”
Another truck pulled in, and Alex clammed up real quick. “I can’t say any more. And do me one favor? If you’re going to question me again, don’t do it at school. I’m already a target there.” Tightening his grip on his bag, he threw it over his shoulder and headed inside.
Two bodybuilder types strolled past, eyeing us, but they went by without a word.
Cross came over to stand next to me, facing the gym. “What do you think?”
I shook my head, my stomach twisting. “I don’t know. When’d we ever learn we could trust Alex Ryerson?”
“True.” His arm brushed mine. “I hate to say this, but we should get more information from your brother, find out what exactly he was told. Then, if we have to, we question Alex again, but in the crew way.”
Which meant violence, lots of it.
I nodded, feeling like I was forty years old. “Not yet. Let’s go bunk down at Jordan’s and tell him and Z when they wake up what’s going on.”
“Okay.”
We didn’t get the chance.
Word had spread by the time we woke up at Jordan’s after a few hours. Jordan didn’t even know we were there until we came down from the loft he and his father had installed last month.
We found him sitting on the couches with Race, Zellman, and Taz, talking about what Alex had done.
“Whoa!” Jordan did a two-step as we came down the stairs, jerking and spilling some of his beer. “What—when did you guys get in?”
Taz had a coffee. Ignoring Jordan, I went right for her and plucked it out of her hands.
“Um. Okay. There you go, yeah… I brought it for you.”
I smiled and sank into the seat next to her. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on a coffee run after I drink this. I promise.”
Race chuckled, handing her his coffee instead.
Z had been tossing a ball in the air, but caught it and leaped over his chair to the kitchenette. “No problem. I’ll brew a pot.” He snickered, grabbing a filter. “We’ve even got flavored coffee. Bam. How about that?”
Taz frowned. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” Cross yawned, rubbing the back of his neck before taking the seat Zellman just left. “You guys heard about Alex?”
Race grunted. “I’m not surprised either.”
Taz turned her frown toward her boyfriend, reaching for his leg.
Jordan scooted to the edge of his seat. “Why are you guys here?”
Cross glanced at me. I glanced back, then sipped more coffee. I wasn’t quite ready to get into all of this, but we’d
heard Zellman’s exclamation about how that “piece of shit Alex set the whole thing up,” so we were already here.
Cross stood as Zellman finished the coffee and started back for the chairs.
“Nah, man. You looked wrecked.” Zellman grabbed a stool and brought it over.
Cross rubbed his jaw, still standing. “If I sit again, I’ll fall back asleep. We—” He indicated me. “—had an eventful evening. You guys heard the rumor, then?”
“Yeah.” Jordan jerked his chin up. “What do you know?”
“We heard last night from Channing—”
I jumped in, feeling more alive now. “We caught Alex going into the gym this morning. We didn’t realize everyone would know about the rumor.”
Jordan waved that off, scooting back in his chair. “The fucker is blabbing to everyone. They don’t want the shit beat out of them, so they’re putting the blame on Ryerson.” He paused, glanced at Race, and amended, “They’re blaming Alex, I mean.”
Race glowered. “Too many of us, if you ask me.” He slid his eyes toward me on the couch, a simmering heat there. “Drake should not be here.”
I saluted him with his girlfriend’s coffee. “Couldn’t agree more.”
Feeling Cross watching me, I waited to see if he’d share what else we knew. But though Race and Taz were close friends to the crew and family, nothing could make them a part of the Wolf Crew. That sanctity was still there.
Jordan gave me a questioning head tilt, and I shook mine in response. He knew there was more to say, but he nodded. The message had been received.
Zellman spun around on his stool.
“What’s the plan then?” Race looked around.
“Since the rumor’s out, your cousin better transfer schools already,” Cross said. “Whether it’s true or not, he’s a target.”
Race said, “I know, but that’s on him. He dug his own grave.”
“All fucking six feet of it.” Cross moved toward the kitchenette and the coffee.
Taz looked down, but turned to watch her brother walk away for a moment.
“You never answered,” Jordan said to me. “When’d you guys roll in here?”