Crew Princess (Crew Series Book 2)

by Tijan

  Nope. Old Bren was rallying.

  But.

  I wasn’t rising to the bait. I wasn’t going to react.

  He was answering questions. That’s what I wanted.

  “Was the intention to get drugs into the Roussou school?” I asked. “Is that why Frisco’s school was burned down?”

  “Yes and yes, but not the way you’re thinking. My employer didn’t have a seller in Frisco school. He does in Roussou, and he does in Fallen Crest. He wants drugs in both schools and only the schools. When Frisco students go back, he wants the drugs to go with them. He’s already worked someone to handle distribution and selling there.”

  “So it hadn’t started before then?”

  He shook his head, yawning. “Nope. None of this started till a couple months ago.” He glanced over at me, holding, waiting.

  “When you arrived?”

  “When I arrived.” His mouth lifted up in a grin. “Always knew you were smart. You should be going to college next year, not doing nothing.”

  I gave him a hard look, but ignored that too. “The SWAT thing? Me getting arrested?”

  His mouth thinned. “That wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Who was it?”

  He didn’t answer, not right away, and I could tell it took him effort. “That was Alex.”

  “Alex called the cops on himself?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “Alex was supposed to plant drugs on you. The guy in the FC police department called in the anonymous tip there was a shooter. He’s the point guy behind all the joint task stuff with the two towns. They got there, and Alex hadn’t put the drugs on you. Instead, he took ’em himself.”

  “The cop said he was DOA.”

  He rolled a shoulder. “My guess is that’s the contact, and Broghers’ sister went with it, arresting you. Any excuse to arrest you, she’s going to take it. She’s had a hard-on for you since you stabbed her newlywed husband.” He flashed me a grin. “I warned you about them.”

  “How were you supposed to set me up?”

  “I was just supposed to get in your head, cause chaos. Besides the District Weekend and the Frisco school, I didn’t really do anything.”

  “And that day when I was getting a dress?”

  “I’d met the contact. He was mad. Said I wasn’t doing enough, but I’d never been part of this willingly, so what’d they expect? I saw you shopping and thought fuck it, she needs a heads-up. I knew what was planned for tonight, knew they’d take you in on something.” His cheek ticked. “I didn’t know they planned to use Alex for the drugs. I thought it was going to be the new Ryerson crew seller.”

  So there was one.

  “Who’s the student?” I leaned forward. “Who are the students for all the schools?”

  He offered me a lazy grin this time. “Can’t tell you that. I know your crew will go off. You’ll either do the smart thing and tell your brother—let him and his scary buddies handle the sellers—or you and your crew will go bust their heads open. I gotta keep that quiet for now.”

  I opened my mouth.

  “I’m saving it for the cops,” he said before I could speak. “I’m waiting for my employer’s contact to go off-shift. I need to make sure I get to the right cops, or things could get bad for me.”

  I suppressed a shiver. I knew what happened to narcs.

  “Drake,” I murmured.

  I wet my lips.

  There was one question left. And I didn’t know if I had it in me to ask.

  He waited, watching me, a smirk on his face. “Ask me, Bren. Say the words.”

  I closed my eyes. “Who is it? Who’s behind all of this?”

  I felt him leaning close. His mouth moved to my ear, and he said, “You know who it is.”

  He leaned back, and I opened my eyes.

  “You’ve put together most of the players,” he continued. “I know you know there’s a connection. You tell me who it is.”

  I didn’t say a word. My chest deflated. I didn’t think I wanted to know, because of what else that would mean.

  “It’s not my dad, is it?” I whispered hoarsely.

  “Nope. And by the way, they want to corner the high schools for drugs to avoid the Red Demons. That’s the only connection with your dad, in case you were wondering.”

  Relief hit me hard.

  Then I thought about common denominators.

  Alex.

  Drake.

  The time.

  When Drake came to Roussou.

  A person in the Fallen Crest police force.

  The ease and speed with which they’d done all of this told me they’d done it before. That told me they probably had money.

  “Think, Bren. Who all was moving to town around the same time?”

  Alex. Drake… Race…

  I knew. I never met the person, but I knew he wasn’t good people. I knew he’d already broken two families apart.

  “Your uncle,” I said.

  “Bingo.”

  “Race’s dad.”

  “Same guy.”

  My head spun. “How did you—how did you get roped into it?”

  Race’s dad had money, but I thought it was from his Harley business.

  Drake laughed, the sound bitter. “How’d I get roped into it? I got into some trouble where I was staying. He bailed me out, literally. I racked up a gambling debt. My uncle paid it for me and said I could work it off if I came back here and whispered manipulative words in your ears. You’re the Crew Princess, Bren. You’re the heart of that world and the Normal world. Your crew. You guys are the guard dogs at school, and your brother is the pit bull of Roussou. Couldn’t just take you out because your pops is connected now. Red Demons would go all out on one of their kids getting murdered.”

  I flinched.

  A hard look was in his eyes. “And no, I’d never be a part of that. No. My uncle knew that couldn’t happen either so fucking with you. That’s the job I was given. Fuck with you, and both your crew and your brother go away, at least for a while, at least long enough to slip in and set something up. You were my job, but I got here, and I wasn’t about playing my part for him. I messed around.” A slow and sensual smile spread over his face. His eyes twinkled. “I had some fun, maybe too much fun, and then suddenly I got another incentive to play along, make some money, not fuck up and get in more trouble.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “I got a kid on the way.”

  A kid—Sunday. Sunday!

  I scrambled to my feet. “You’re the guy who got Sunday pregnant?”

  He tipped his head back, watching me. “Really? That’s what gets the biggest reaction from you? A teen pregnancy?”

  I sat back down in a huff. “She told us it was someone from Fallen Crest.”

  He laughed, the sound smooth. “I know.” He took a minute to crack himself up. “I told her to say that,” he chuckled. “She and I were being nice to each other then, figured that’s why she actually said it. I knew I’d be calling in the District Weekend party, and it might buy time for you guys to suspect those rich pricks for being behind it. Z having that in his head, it was only a matter of time before he went off.”

  Rich pricks.

  A part of me collapsed inside. I knew where I’d gotten that phrase suddenly, and thinking on it, I remembered all the hateful things Drake used to whisper about Fallen Crest. I hated people from there, but even this year, I’d been proven wrong time and time again.

  Drake. I’d gotten that dislike from him, and I hadn’t even noticed. I’d never questioned. I’d blindly believed and adopted his mantra. Shame bloomed in my chest.

  “You’re not with Sunday anymore?” I asked.

  “Nah. It was a week fling. That was it, but the kid is coming. She’s keeping it, so there’s my other incentive not to fuck up and get a knife in my back. And if I could make some money, a part of me was all about that.”

  “What changed?”

  “Alex.”

  In
an instant, his face transformed to dark and slightly murderous. “My uncle never should’ve fucking included Alex.”

  I spared him a look. “You gifted him to us. Remember?”

  “I had to do that, and you know it. If I hadn’t, your crew would’ve simmered. Your boy would’ve exploded one day, and I couldn’t control that situation.” His jaw clenched. “I like Taz. She’s a civilian, and she never should’ve been hurt. My brother had that coming, and everyone knows it. And besides, I didn’t gift him up. He volunteered. Those texts came from him, not me.”

  From Alex?

  More shame, more regret, more…doubt filled me.

  Violence.

  Sunday was right.

  We always went to violence first. Maybe violence needed to be the last resort? Like we’d been doing lately. It was a better feeling, not so dark, not so filled with hate, anger, all the stuff that gets in you and eats at your soul.

  Maybe…

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Alex isn’t all bad. He just has a drug problem.” A growl worked its way up his throat. “A drug problem my uncle exploited, asking him to plant the drugs on you. It was the wrong fucking move.”

  Then I knew. I got it. And I got why he’d come to me first.

  “You’re turning yourself in to save your brother, aren’t you?”

  He stood, brushing some of the grass from his jeans. He looked down at me. “Yes and no. I found out what they did, and I was pissed, but I was going to go in anyway. It’s all ending. Drugs were supposed to be planted on you, but the tip went in about a shooter, not drugs. My uncle’s contact fucked up, went too big. Now there’s heat on him even before me going in. It’d all unravel anyway. I’m just making it go at hyper-speed. I don’t go in, they’ll kill Alex. He’s a loose end. They’d take me out too. I go in to save both our heads.”

  I nodded. “And you want me to get my crew together, go find Alex, and take care of him?”

  “No. I want you guys to help take care of Sunday. My kid. If something happens to me, help with my mini-me.” He bent, his hand resting on my shoulder. He squeezed and said softly, “I really did love you once, Bren.”

  He left, and I remained.

  I didn’t move for a long time after.

  Drake did as he’d promised.

  He went to the police station, the Roussou one. I wondered if he’d changed his mind because the only dirty cops in Roussou were the ones who gave my brother information. Maybe. Who knew. But for whatever reason, he went there instead. I knew Drake had asked for immunity in exchange for his tale, but I didn’t know if he’d get it. I hoped for that.

  Either way, by noon, everyone had been apprehended.

  Race’s dad.

  The dirty cop in the FCPD.

  The sellers—leaving the Ryerson crew leaderless yet again.

  I wondered if they were going to take the hint and just disband. And Alex went to rehab. I was losing count of how many times he’d been there. Maybe one day it would stick. I hoped so.

  Zellman took the news identifying Sunday’s baby daddy fairly well, considering the way Drake came out with everything.

  As for me, I had one hell of an awkward dinner to look forward to.

  Cross and I sat in his truck, parked at the curb next to his dad’s girlfriend’s house. We were still doing the dinner, and it was the first family-official meeting with everything out on the table—the affair nineteen years ago, who Blaise really was—and each person would have a support there for them. I had no doubt this wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Significant others had to be there or Cross wouldn’t have shown up.

  Taz, on the other hand, was excited.

  She and Race had gone inside, though Race was moving slowly. They hadn’t seen us since we were just parking as they were already to the door.

  Cross turned the engine off, sitting back. We both watched the house. Neither of us moved.

  “Race isn’t doing too well,” Cross said.

  I nodded. “I’m not surprised. Knowing your dad is a piece of shit is one thing, but finding out he’s selling drugs is a whole other matter.”

  “You think he and his mom are going to be affected? Cops will seize their assets.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? I hope not. The divorce was clean, wasn’t it?”

  Cross raised his eyebrows. “We could ask your brother’s fancy friends. The one is in law school, right?”

  “I suppose. I think they’re still in town.”

  “How are things with you and your brother?”

  Cross had told me everything that went down after I was arrested, while they were waiting to get me out on bail. I couldn’t imagine it, but I wished with everything in me that I could’ve been there, seen everyone rallying for me. It brought tears to my eyes.

  My throat swelled up again. “We’re good.” More than good. “I haven’t seen much of him today, but he checked in with me. He and his guys were the ones who caught Race’s dad. He’d gotten word and was in the middle of packing a bag. He was going to run.”

  Cross grunted. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, but anyway, those friends are still here. Channing’s spending time with them. They’re going into business together, so they have things to discuss.” I looked over at him, a wry smile on my face. “And by the way, they’re all invited for another Monroe family BBQ this Friday, just like we had the other night.”

  Another car pulled ahead of us, but turned into the driveway. A black Maserati this time. It parked next to the Mercedes G Wagon. Cross and Taz’s half-brother got out of the driver’s seat, and Zeke Allen got out on the other side.

  Cross nodded to them. “Think we should invite those guys?”

  “I’m thinking Allen would shit his pants to have a dinner with the football guy.”

  Cross grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. We watched as the two sauntered inside.

  I wasn’t going to ask how Cross felt about his brother. I knew he didn’t know yet. Taz, though. Taz was in love. She’d been texting me half the day, asking about what clothes to wear.

  “Taz asked me if I thought sunflower yellow was too poor for this dinner.”

  He snorted. “She asked me the same thing about her teal shirt. I told her not to give a fuck.”

  I smiled.

  Taz was nervous. The twenty texts explaining how she wasn’t going to drink any caffeine for four hours before the dinner was a testament to how nervous she was. She didn’t want to arrive and have to use the bathroom immediately. She had it scheduled to use the bathroom past the halfway mark of the dinner, just before dessert would be served.

  Then she’d sent a flurry of texts asking if I thought they were going to serve a multiple-course meal. And if so, how many? Three? Five? Seven? Surely, not a nine-course meal.

  I’d stopped responding by then, but the texts had just kept coming. Plus one from Race.

  Race: Sorry.

  “You ready for this?” I asked.

  Cross just sighed.

  That was as good a response as I was gonna get. I reached for the door handle. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  The door opened for us as we stepped onto the patio, and though Cross told me his dad’s girlfriend had come to the police station, I hadn’t noticed her. She was beautiful—petite, with a heart-shaped face and little square chin. Wide eyes. Sun-kissed hair. It looked like it was naturally light brown, but she had a good mix of blond streaks. Half her hair was pulled back, and half swayed around the front of her face, touching just under her chin and dipping in to frame her jawline. Dressed in a white tank top, green cargo capris, tan sandals, and a low-hanging brooch that I was pretty sure could’ve bought Channing’s house, she had a very Jennifer Aniston look to her.

  “Hi!”

  Oh, good gracious. She even sounded like Jennifer Aniston. She held the door open wider, but suddenly filled the space, her arms around me.

  I froze in place.

  She breathed me in. “Hmmm. You smell delicious.”

&nb
sp; Oh. My. God.

  “Lilacs. I love lilacs.” She stepped away, her arms opening for Cross.

  He stepped back, stone-faced. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  “Right.” She lowered her arms, running a nervous hand through her hair, and gestured inside. “Would you like to come in? Your father tells me absolutely no alcohol for you two.”

  Cross frowned. “You let your son drink alcohol?”

  Another laugh, one that reminded me of sunlight and beach waves. “Goodness no, but I’m up on all the new trends, and allowing your teenagers a glass of wine is apparently a new thing. Can you believe that?” She held out her hand to me. “I’m Marie, by the way. Sorry. I just went right in for the hug. I’m bad with boundaries. Blaise gets mad at me all the time. He says I maul his girlfriends.”

  She winked. “Not that there are many. He’s not the girlfriend type of guy. I once worried he didn’t have a sex drive. He’s always kept so quiet, I wasn’t sure if he liked boys or girls, or both—because, you know, that’s a thing too. A good thing. A healthy thing. An equal thing. I love all things.” Her hand was still hanging between us. She didn’t seem to notice. “And I ramble when I’m nervous. Your father told me not to share that I’m nervous, but I am. I’m human. What’s your name, dear?”

  I shook her hand, almost transfixed by her rambling. I didn’t know what to do. “Uh. Bren.”

  “Bren!” She beamed at me, clasping my arm with her other hand. “A lovely name. You’re so lovely. You could be a model. Has anyone ever told you that? They should, if they haven’t. OH MY GOODNESS!”

  I jumped back.

  Her hands flew to her chest. “You’re the girl Malinda told me about. I love Malinda. She came over a couple weeks ago, introduced herself, said she and I would be good friends. And we have been. She gives me all the gossip, because as you can see, I’m a little too friendly when you first meet me, but I promise I calm down. I get quiet, even. Believe it or not, people say they forget I’m there, but not right away. I always have the nerves. Do you have nerves? You probably have nerves. Cross, how are your nerves?”