Crew (Crew Series Book 1)

by Tijan

  “How do you know that?” Cross asked her.

  She put the papers back in her bag and reached for her sandwich as she answered. “It’s all over school. Sunday knew the first day he showed up.” She was about to take a bite when she noticed the stares from everyone. “You guys didn’t know?”

  They looked at me instead.

  “You did?” Jordan asked.

  “I just knew his dad ran a Harley store.” The dealership in Wakefield was big, really big.

  “I’m getting sick of this kid. He’s everywhere. I bet if I took a dump, he’d be in the shower,” Jordan grumbled. He was looking at me.

  “What?” I asked. “You know why he’s here. He told us.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He kicked up his feet. Balling up his wrappers, he tossed them into the empty bonfire pit. His arms folded over his chest. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah. I heard what he said. Drake messed with him, then the fighting ring and the divorce, but why do I have a feeling he’s not going to go away?”

  He kept looking at me, though he sounded like he was talking to himself.

  I snagged another fry, but Jordan was still watching me intently. “What? I’m not his spokesperson.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I got a feeling he wished you were.” His eyes skirted to Cross, taking on a speculative gleam. He lifted his chin towards us. “And what was he talking about before? About wondering, but not?”

  Tension settled back over me, pressing down, but so did a ball of anger in my gut. The more Jordan pushed me, the more it rolled around, getting bigger and bigger with each circle.

  Did he want to fight? Was that what he wanted?

  Race wasn’t an issue for us. I was getting sick of even hearing his name, not to mention the way Jordan was directing all this crap at me. Race had helped us. He wasn’t an adversary. That might change in the future, but Jordan pushing me now had me ready to take up a cause I didn’t care about in the first place.

  “Ask him yourself!” I snarled.

  And we were back to the old dynamic—where Jordan was pissed at me for something, and I was defiant. That ball was percolating, getting larger and larger.

  “Or we stop talking about the guy.” Cross tossed his burger wrapping into the bonfire too. “Hmm? How about that?”

  Zellman’s eyes shifted between Jordan and me, then went to Cross as he took another big bite of his burger. It was almost gone, and he reached for his bag of fries.

  Jordan snorted. “Of course you’d take up for her. Why am I not shocked?”

  Cross’ eyes narrowed. “You got something to say to me?”

  Taz’s eyes were wide and round. I was surprised too. Cross had already said a lot against Race. Now he was piping in against Jordan? Where’d the silent and lethal guy go? He was becoming more confrontational.

  “Okay.” Taz waved her hands in a circle. “Not sure what’s going on here, but I only need a few more sponsors in case Race’s dad doesn’t come through.” A nervous laugh filtered from her. “Remember? That’s what we’re doing here. Not fighting.”

  I continued to stare at Jordan as I asked her, “How many more?”

  “Three, and they’re small packages. Your cousin, and the two Jaxes inside got the big ones.”

  I had ideas on a few more spots we could visit. I stood up. “Come on. I’ll take you to the rest.” I handed my fries to Cross. “I lost my appetite.”

  Taz stood too, her bag and sandwich in hand.

  I squared my shoulders. “You got a stick up your ass when it comes to me,” I told Jordan. “You better get right with the fact that I’m not going to always do what you want, and you better stop putting other shit on me, like this guy. He’s not a problem. Stop making him mine.” I looked at Cross. “You want to come?”

  He inclined his head toward Jordan. Almost lazily, he gestured to him with his finger. “I’ll get a ride.”

  I was ready to head off when his gaze transferred to me again. It lingered. I got the message. He’d stay and watch my back.

  He held out his hand, grazing me as I slipped past.

  I paused for a brief second.

  I didn’t look down. I didn’t think I dared.

  A need was captured in my throat, along with that tingling from earlier. Pushing forward, I headed to the Jeep, feeling my stomach starting to churn in anticipation, in excitement.

  I didn’t realize my lungs had ceased working until I got inside the car. A large amount of air expelled from me, and I had to sit there for a moment.

  Taz said something and ran back.

  My mind was whirling. I felt like my blood was buzzing.

  I needed a minute to center myself, and when Taz came back, her tote bag in hand, I said, “I’ll take you back to get your car when we’re done.”

  “It’s not a problem.” She shut her door and put her seatbelt on, juggling her bag and sandwich. “I gave Cross the keys. They’ll go get the car; then he’ll take it home.” She gestured over her shoulder as I turned my Jeep to go around Jordan’s. “Does that happen often?”

  “What?”

  “The fighting.”

  I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t want to. “Sorry you had to witness it.”

  “Jordan might mean well deep down, but it’s way far down, like seven layers of Dante’s Inferno down. All those layers are his asshole layers.” She settled back, unwrapping the last half of her sandwich. “If I joined your crew, all I’d be doing is fighting with him. I get it.”

  I turned onto the road, leaving Manny’s behind, and glanced sideways to Taz. I had a feeling her way of “getting it” and mine were total opposites.

  I took Taz to a couple more crew businesses, but it wasn’t until I was driving her back to her house that she mentioned a main sponsor.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The big, big one.” She was waving her hands in the air again. I could see from the corner of my eye. “You know, when you go to events and you see the main sponsor? Race’s dad could do that one.”

  “Why didn’t you mention it before?”

  She shrugged. “Because it’s not mine to fill. It’s Ms. Bagirianni’s job, but I just texted her and asked if she’d found someone yet. She said no. You want me to read it out loud?”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “No way. I don’t want to hear, see, or know about any personal texts from The Badger. There should be a rule where teachers and staff can’t leave the school. When you enter, you deal with them there and only there. It’s too much, thinking of all of them having their own lives.”

  “Man.” She whistled. “She really got under your skin, huh?”

  I fixed her with a look. “If you think The Badger hasn’t psychoanalyzed you, you’re dumb. Trust me. She analyzes everybody.”

  “I’m not insecure about what she might think of me.”

  “Ask for her thoughts on your relationship with Cross.”

  Taz’s smug smile vanished.

  “See? Not so secure now, huh?”

  “That was mean of you.”

  Maybe. Well, yes, it was. “Sometimes I’m not so nice.”

  I pulled up to the curb by their house and put the Jeep in park, letting the engine idle. I’d only be going in there if Cross was home, and I already knew he wasn’t. He’d texted before saying they were at Jordan’s.

  Taz looked down at her lap, at her bag sitting there, and she sighed. “I know you’re not normal. Your friends are your crew, and I get it. I mean, I think I do. Kind of. But that was a cheap shot you just took. My relationship with Cross is—”

  “Where you’re vulnerable?” I asked. “Guess what? My whole life is where I’m vulnerable.”

  She held my gaze, then let out another quiet breath. “You think I took a cheap shot at you?”

  I remained like a statue. Taz knew my relationship with The Badger was a sore subject. She got her feelings hurt? Tough. Welcome to life.

  She looked down at her bag again. “Maybe I did.”

&nb
sp; I knew she was jealous of my relationship with her brother. I was jealous of how normal her life was. She took a dig at me, and I punched her back. And now she was feeling bad? She’d go inside, sit, and get a home-cooked meal with both of her parents.

  She’d get over it.

  I cleared my throat. “Let’s just talk tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay.” She slid out of my vehicle, her hand up in a wave. “Thanks, Bren.”

  I nodded.

  I meant to go watch the house, or maybe finish that fight with Jordan, but instead of turning left, I went right.

  I didn’t know why.

  I honestly didn’t.

  Maybe the whole stupid thing with Jordan was on my mind, and I wanted it done. I didn’t want any more questions about him.

  Maybe thinking of Taz with her parents made me think of what Race must be going through, or maybe in some weird way I wanted to make it up to Taz, wipe away the hurt I’d caused her.

  Whatever the reason, I drove to the outskirts of Roussou and headed to the Ryerson’s home. Alex’s parents lived on the outside of town, so they had a bunch of land extending behind them. There was a pool, a pool house, and a couple storage sheds. They had a setup like Jordan’s, but with a longer driveway.

  I wasn’t surprised to find Alex’s crew lingering around the pool when I parked and got out. Half of them were in it. Some were drinking and talking. Some were dunking the others in the pool. A few girls were straddling some of the guys, their tongues down their throats. Amid all that as a backdrop, I pushed ahead.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, but I wanted to know so I could tell Taz. I was there for her, and I didn’t have the guy’s phone number.

  I had Alex’s. That thought just came to me, almost making me stop where I stood, but I was already here.

  A guy next to Alex poked his arm, pointing to me.

  And Alex saw me.

  I couldn’t back out now. It’d make me look scared, weak. Wolf Crew wasn’t weak, so ignoring what my gut was telling me, and ignoring a whiff of rotten eggs, I started over to him.

  I didn’t go far. I stopped a few feet away from my Jeep.

  Alex stood when he saw me, a beer in hand. His skin glistened, and he had drops pouring down his forehead. He was almost drenched, and I didn’t need to get closer to know it wasn’t from the pool.

  “Your cousin here?”

  A full smile spread over his face, maybe too quickly, too eager. Too unsettling. “How about a beer instead?”

  I shook my head. “I’m looking for your cousin.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, the smile fading. A different, meaner grin took its place. “I was wondering what brought Bren Monroe to my place.” He made a show of looking behind me. “And without your crew too.” He whistled. “You’re living on the edge, Bren. I might reach out and…hug you.”

  I bared my teeth. “Not without my permission, you won’t.”

  He laughed, tipping his head back. The sound was a little too maniacal. “There she is. You looked almost tame for a second, like a sweet little kitten, not the feral puss I know you are.” He gestured with his beer back toward where I’d come from. “As for my cousin, he took off after school.”

  “What?”

  His smile was fully gone now. A hard glint remained in his eyes, fusing with the haze there. “Let’s say we had a difference of opinion about something. Yeah.” He motioned again. “He took off. I don’t have a clue where.”

  Race was gone? Like, gone gone?

  “What about his mom?”

  Alex’s eyes sharpened. He lowered his beer. “You know about his mom? About why she’s here?”

  “Is she still here?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “How do you know about his mom? Even my crew doesn’t know why she’s here.”

  “Is she still here?” I was pissed, suddenly really, really pissed. Race had made a big fucking deal about his dad’s money for Taz’s thing, and now he was gone? And I was here, stepping in the middle of another fucking crew when I shouldn’t be?

  “Yeah.” He took a sip. Slow, methodical. “She’s here.”

  I was ignoring all of the signs that I should get out of here. Pretend they aren’t there, I told myself. Pretend you don’t know. Maybe nothing will happen? I’d walked into a den of vipers, and I needed to back out of here before they struck. Everything in me was screaming to run, but I forced a nonchalant look on my face.

  I had to.

  I was close to being in survival mode here.

  And thinking…Race had just changed his location. If his mom was here, he was still in Roussou.

  “Okay.” I started back to my Jeep. “Thanks, Alex.”

  He waited until I was just in front of it, then called after me, raising his voice, “You fucking him?”

  I stopped, my back to him.

  He did that on purpose, wanting the rest of his crew to hear him. It was a call to action. Get in gear, little kiddies. Time to stop playing. It’s a different kind of playtime now.

  When I turned around, I wasn’t surprised to find most of them heading our way. I began counting, guessing there were twelve here, maybe a few still in the pool.

  Fake it, Bren.

  So I did. I raised my chin, meeting his gaze square. “That’s none of your business, if I were.”

  His shoulders fell back and whatever sick excitement he was getting from this conversation went up a full notch.

  Those odds were so damn bad. He was safe, surrounded by his, while mine were absent.

  My lips parted.

  Fuck you, crossed my mind.

  He grinned at me, that gleam so wicked. “Not so cocky now, Monroe, are you?”

  “Funny.” I indicated his crew. “I came looking for someone who’s not crew, and yours and mine aren’t warring right now.”

  Alex’s hotheadedness was back, but he’d picked up other habits too. Bad habits. Life-threatening habits, for myself and others.

  This. Was. So. Not. Good.

  “Don’t do this,” I rasped out.

  “Do what?” He tipped his head back, finishing his beer, and tossed it off to the side. He used the back of his arm to wipe his mouth. “Call you out for being a slut?”

  My head went low. “Taz needs sponsors for some committee. I’m here to help her out. That’s all. Race said his dad would help.”

  He walked toward me with a slow swagger, his hips rotating smoothly. The guy was high and drunk, and he was either trying and failing at being seductive or he was just out and out okay with the potential-rapist vibes he was giving off. He was enjoying this.

  That chilled me to the bone.

  “I want to know where my turn went. You went from Drake to Race. Shouldn’t I have gotten a ride in therrre fisd?” he slurred.

  God, he reeked.

  I was going to slice him.

  My mind wanted to turn off. I knew what was going to happen. There was no out for me, which meant I had one option. Fight. Take as many of them with me as I could, but I had to think. I had to stay rational. I couldn’t turn it off.

  Not yet.

  Still.

  My mouth was so dry. My lips parted as I gulped air. I couldn’t get enough. I felt my throat constricting.

  That’s the fear, Bren.

  For whatever fucking reason, my brother’s voice sounded in my head.

  Even now, even in this situation, he was trying to tell me what to do.

  I tried to summon my usual annoyance, but it wasn’t there.

  I listened to him. I had to.

  Make every contact count. Be smart, but efficient. Stay strong. Clear head, Bren.

  Then Cross’ voice, Find your exits. Count them. Then look ahead, decide on your first targets. Think about where you strike first.

  Cross’ voice melded with Channing’s. Clear head. Fight smart.

  I didn’t think when I grabbed my knife—that was automatic. But I scanned the group. I saw four gaps in the crowd, four exits. My keys were in
my pocket.

  I suddenly wished I had an automatic starter, but there was no need here in California. Well, except for right about fucking now.

  I felt my knife in my hand. That handle fit so perfectly in my palm.

  It calmed me, just a tiny bit.

  “Think about what you’re saying, Alex,” I said softly. “Think hard.”

  He laughed, the sound making me nauseous.

  “Trust me.” He gripped himself through his jeans. “I’m hard. I’ve been hard for you for a long time.”

  I wanted to do more than slice him, but I counted everyone behind him. He had around twenty people here.

  There was no way for me. There was no way.

  I could slice a few, but he’d grab me before I got inside the Jeep. I’d have to run out to the land around his place. There were trees, but unlike Jordan’s, there was a whole lot of open land.

  They would hunt me down. It was a matter of time.

  They would beat me. Maybe rape me. Maybe worse.

  This was Roussou. The shimmer of danger wasn’t an illusion. I had stepped right into the thick of it.

  “My phone is on.” I pulled it out with my free hand and dialed 9-1-1. “They’re coming, and I know enough people who listen to the radio. My brother is probably being notified as I speak, so it’ll be his crew coming too. Not just mine.” I locked eyes with a few of his members. Some were hostile. Some were cautious. A couple seemed fearful. I stared hard at them. “Something happens to me, you know what will happen to you. Blood for blood.”

  I knew that would hit hard with some of Alex’s crew. They didn’t all look wasted.

  One gulped. Another hardened his expression, but I still saw the fear there, just under the surface.

  Everything I’d said was true.

  I had called 9-1-1. They would ping my location. Someone would hear the dispatch, and my brother would get a call. He’d call his crew, then mine, and all of them would descend on this place.

  I hoped whatever damage they did to me would be worth it, because I had my guys coming.

  I looked at Alex again, holding my breath.

  He snarled, his hands balling into fists. “Then let’s stop wasting time.”

  Alex lunged for me.

  Still holding the knife in my hand, I palmed it so it lay flat, reached behind me to grab the edge of the Jeep door, and flung myself backward. I kicked under Alex’s head as my legs went up and over, and I rolled to my feet on the top of my Jeep. From there I kicked and swung with my knife until I was too surrounded. I felt some guys climbing up on the back of my Jeep, moving toward me, and as they reached for my legs, I embedded my knife in one of their arms. The guy screamed, falling back, and I fell on my hip, jutting my feet out again to kick at the other guy. I connected with his nose, hearing a crunching sound, but it was too late.