Always Crew

by Tijan

  “We’re not involved.”

  “How do you figure?”

  I stopped and let out a breath. “He called a frat meeting. I have nothing to do with his fraternity. Zeke does, so that means you do. I draw the line there. I can barely stand you, but no fucking way am I wading in to help Zeke. No matter what bullshit loyalty he has to you or you have to him, he’s been a pain in my ass and Bren’s ass since before you arrived in town. So, yeah. I don’t give a shit. You go to the frat meeting and do whatever you want.”

  I took off, hearing him bite out a growl behind me.

  I kept going. I meant what I said.

  “I want him out of that house.”

  I didn’t stop, saying over my shoulder, “I don’t care!”

  “He’s going to be a problem for Zeke if he stays.”

  Aaand again, “I really don’t care!”

  “Agh! Fine! What do you want?”

  I stopped walking, and turned back, my eyebrow cocked up. “Say again?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Want?”

  “Yeah. What do you want?”

  I frowned. “Why are you up my ass to do this? What do you think we can do to help with this?”

  Blaise frowned at me, his head cocked to the side. He seemed to be thinking, then he held a finger up. “You’re right. I’m thinking of this all in the wrong way. Thank you.” He flashed me a smile before backing away. “Oh, hey. You coming to my soccer game?”

  “You play today?”

  He dipped his head down. “Seven.”

  This was another annoying fact about him. He was fun to watch. Even Bren enjoyed going to the games.

  I growled, biting out, “We’ll be there.” His smile was blinding. So was how fucking smug he was. “Sit with Aspen, could you? Some of her friends are heading home for the weekend. They won’t be there.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

  He took off, and my phone started buzzing in my pocket, so I pulled it out.

  An unknown number flashed over the screen.

  “Hello?”

  A voice said from the other end, “This is Bren’s boss. I believe you have something of mine.”

  He was waiting by his truck when I pulled into the parking lot.

  I didn’t know why he asked to meet here, outside PubTown, but I went. I was figuring not meeting in his parking lot was better odds for me? Either way, I wouldn’t be alone for long. I called everyone, giving Bren the option if she wanted to come and hear what he had to say, or head to the soccer game to sit with Aspen.

  She hesitated, and that told me so much.

  I wasn’t totally surprised when she said, “I don’t trust Jordan and Zellman with Aspen.”

  She hung up and the dread that’d been building since seeing her dad’s face pinned on this guy’s wall just doubled. Bren was choosing to step back, something Bren rarely did. The last time she did it willingly was the night she told me she wanted to be a normal high school senior for a night, not chasing after her drug-dealer ex.

  Bren didn’t step back because she was a coward. She stepped back because of the unnecessary pain it’d bring, and I took a look, a good long look, at this guy as I parked and got out of my own vehicle.

  He was leaning his shoulder against his ride, arms crossed over his chest, and he was in full bounty hunting apparel. Vest on. All their weapons they wore. His badge hanging around his neck. He had sunglasses on but flipped them up as I came around the back of my truck.

  He nodded to me. “I clocked you watching me the other night. Knew you were smart. The others,” he waved a hand in the air, “they listen to you. All of them. You can tell, if you really watch. Bren, she relies on you. She smiles quicker, breathes easier when you’re near her. The others, they do the same. They’re a bit more guarded, then you come back and they all just relax. And you’re the leader. Noticed that, too, from the other night. Could tell because they all had to see you if they were wondering something. Joking. Telling stories. They don’t look at you in those moments, but the second another person or situation or a call came through and they were unsure, all of them checked in with you. A look. A question. Or a hand motion, like a wave or something. I was military, was in a special unit. I learned to read people in little motions that no one else even detects. I can learn a lot that way. I learned a lot that night you were in my place.”

  “Yeah.” Fine. He wanted me to know he knew me. I’d show him me. “Me too. I looked up the records. You are the sole owner of both businesses, the bowling alley and the bounty hunting business, but you let the old couple be the beard. You do that for them? Is it a matter of pride, or you enjoy the cover? Other things I learned by watching you, you’re smart. Case in point, this entire conversation, but you’re a workaholic, hence why you were there that late at night still doing work. That paperwork wasn’t for the bowling alley. You were relaxed in the bowling alley. You enjoyed being in there, but you got tense when you walked into the other offices. That’s the work you were doing, since you got tense as soon as you picked up your pen. And if you were doing that paperwork alone, that means you sent the rest home. So you treat them good.”

  A smile flared for a second. “You got that because I was doing paperwork alone?”

  “That and Trundle offered to sneak us booze, but we couldn’t tell you. I watched him. He wasn’t really worried that you’d notice or even care. He poured Jordan a beer a couple times in front of you, and you didn’t blink an eye. That means you trust him.”

  His smile fell. “That kid did that?”

  I nodded.

  He looked away, cursing. “He’s Hawk’s little brother. He’s also like my little brother, that punk.” He shook his head, his hand rubbing between his eyes for a moment. Then, as if clearing his mind, he refocused on me. A cloud seemed to settle over him, making the bags under his eyes a little more pronounced. “You did good. I almost would’ve not caught it, with the whole dropping Justin’s key card in the back, except that Justin never uses that door. That was your tell.”

  I closed my eyes. Damn.

  “After that, I went to the security cameras, and you know what I saw. Took me a bit to figure out who it was. You, and I’m assuming Bren was the other, you both were masked. Kept your heads down. Stayed in the shadows. I only really got you on camera a few times. Can see the flashlights, but it was so dark in there, that’s mostly it. The flashlight, your hands holding the lights, and your shapes every now and then. Saw the flashes, so I’m assuming you were both taking pictures.” His eyes got hard. “Pictures that I’ll want back, by the way.” Then he drew in a breath and waited a beat, glancing off a moment. “The only thing, Bren doesn’t know where the key to get into the offices was kept. That’s what tricked me up a bit until I remembered that I put the key there last night, and you were walking back from the bathroom. That was the only way you could’ve known, and you were good. I had no clue you saw me. Must’ve seen me the second you cleared the door. Probably happened in a split second.”

  He was right.

  I wasn’t confirming.

  Now was the real reason he called me, straightening up from his truck. He seemed casual, but the guy was like a shark just circling, getting closer to the smaller fish he wanted to eat.

  I was bracing.

  I knew the bite was coming.

  He dropped his voice low. “I could go to the station, make a formal complaint. They could haul you guys in. Course, that means Bren would go in and I know she’s got a record. Her dad has one, too. They’d see her, find out her connection, know that she’s a couple steps away from some of their bigger warrants, and are you seeing where I’m going with this?”

  Yes, I was.

  And yes, I wanted to hit him. Now, please.

  He was threatening Bren.

  I smirked. “You don’t want to do that.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “You heard me.” I moved forward an inch. “You’re going to stand here, and to
ss out threats? Do it. Course, you do that, and you not only piss off me and my crew, but you piss of Bren’s brother and his entire company and Bren’s dad. From what I heard, Raith did something for Channing because of his dad. You don’t think he wouldn’t do something if you threatened Monroe’s daughter? Because of her connection to their MC? Yeah. You don’t want to do that. You’d also hurt Bren. She likes you guys. She likes working with you guys, if you’d only give her a chance.”

  He’d gone still as I talked, and stiller and stiller until he wasn’t moving an inch. When I was done, he closed his eyes. One second, then they opened, and he coughed. “I think I’m handling this wrong.”

  I snorted. “I’m thinking that’s a no-brainer.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I need those pictures deleted off your phone.”

  I waited a second. “I already sent them to Channing.”

  “You WHAT?!”

  He came unhinged now, jerking away from his truck, but he caught himself. Though, that might’ve been because Jordan’s truck swung into the parking lot at that moment. Zellman jumped from the back before it stopped, coming to a running stop beside me. Jordan wasn’t far off, his door slamming shut as he strolled around his truck.

  “Well…on that note,” I indicated to them. “My ride’s here.”

  Brock was shaking his head, looking at the ground. His hands were on his hips, and a grumbling sound came from him. “Do you even know what you did? Do you even care?”

  “I sent mug shots from one bounty hunter to another bounty hunter.”

  “You sent surveillance pictures to the same fucking people being watched. That’s what you did.” A vein was sticking out on the side of his neck. He was getting red.

  “No.”

  “YES!”

  “No,” I shot back, fierce. “Channing’s not like that.”

  He scoffed, still shaking his head. “The son of our mark? Yeah, right.”

  “Screw off,” Jordan spoke up.

  Zellman jerked his chin up. “Back up.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits, taking in both of them. “Right. What great friends you guys are. So big and tough, right? You don’t know—”

  “Like we don’t know what goes on in the world?” Jordan stepped forward, his head lowered and cocked to the side, but his eyes firmly on Brock. “You serious? Your research is worth shit then. We’re from Roussou. We don’t have the white picket fences or the fancy zip codes. You fight to survive there. You don’t—”

  “Well…” Zellman cocked his head to the left. “Some do.”

  Jordan stopped, his eyes flicking up before he kept on, “Anyway, we ain’t the sheltered bitches you think we are.”

  “I grew up in a trailer.”

  Jordan frowned, glancing to Zellman, who was bobbing his head after he just said that.

  I frowned.

  Brock’s eyes squinted.

  “So,” Jordan looked back to Brock, “don’t fuck with us.”

  “Alrighty, incoming freshman students. Noted. I’m quaking in my boots.” Brock was pulling all the punches.

  “Oh my God—” Jordan started.

  I spoke up, stopping him, “I’m not giving you the pics—it’s not even a question at this point since they are out of my hands—and you’re not going to do anything about it. Let’s all drop the pretenses here. You called me here to see if you could intimidate your way into me giving you the pictures. I sent them to Channing first thing this morning, and if you’re recording me to incrim–”

  “Don’t insult me,” he snarled.

  I stopped, but asked, “We on the same page?”

  He was glaring at me. “You’re a freshman in college. What do you know about the wrong side of the tracks? I ran your parents’ finances. You grew up privileged.”

  I sobered. He was right, but he wasn’t. In more ways than I could count.

  “Considering you know Bren’s files, you know I’ll know that I’m quite aware of my privilege compared to how she grew up.” I motioned to Zellman. “Him too.”

  “Hey…” Zellman frowned.

  Jordan grinned at him. “He’s making a point.”

  Zellman huffed. “I’m just not appreciating that he’s using me to make the point.”

  “Z.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I said what I said.”

  “We have a game to get to, remember?” Jordan was sounding bored.

  Right. My dickweed’s game.

  I jerked my chin up to Brock. “It’s been enlightening, see ya around.” I started for my truck.

  “Hey.”

  I looked back.

  He was frowning, staring at me as if he were reassessing me. “We kept her out of the loop for her benefit, not the job. We like her.”

  “She’ll appreciate that.” I moved for my vehicle.

  “Also…” Jordan piped up.

  I glanced back at Jordan. He was staring hard at Bren’s boss.

  He continued, “She’s loyal as fuck, and she can kick ass. You fuck her over, and all three of us will fuck you over. You might not give a shit about us, thinking we’re young, but trust me, dude. We’re just the first in line.”

  Brock’s gaze grew hooded, but he didn’t reply as the rest of us got in our trucks.

  Jordan nodded at me. “Soccer field?”

  I nodded back. “Bren’s there?”

  Zellman nodded, probably to join in. “She’s with Aspen.”

  Soccer field, it was.

  BREN

  College sports sucked.

  I mean, they weren’t fun.

  They were.

  They were boring.

  They weren’t boring.

  They were predictable.

  Not predictable at all.

  They were quiet.

  They so weren’t quiet.

  And I was here, sitting on the bleachers, having a whole argument with myself because I wasn’t regretting not going to college. Not one bit. Nope. Not at all. Except… being here, sitting here, I was regretting it. Kinda.

  I mean, not a ton.

  A little bit.

  Somewhat.

  There was a twinge, but only a twinge.

  Why hadn’t I gone to college?

  That’s right, because I didn’t think I was worthy of it.

  I drew up short, the first time admitting that to myself.

  I hadn’t thought I was worthy back then.

  How fucked is that?

  And now?

  I was sitting here, next to Aspen, glaring at a bunch of bitches who were throwing Blaise’s girlfriend nasty glares, and I was feeling some weird déjà vu because I wanted to pull my knife out just to hear those girls gasp in fear.

  I didn’t, but I wanted to. Badly.

  So yeah, there was a twinge, but not enough to apply for next semester.

  “Yo.” Zellman dropped down on the bleacher next to me. He gave a nod to Aspen and me before leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “How’s Dickweed doing?”

  It wasn’t said with affection, but Dickweed was the reason we were all here.

  Aspen laughed. “He’s doing good, but he always does good.”

  She wasn’t being biased. I didn’t care for Cross’ brother, but I had to give him his due. He played hard and ruthless on the field. Today was no different. He already scored the first goal. He was currently running after another player looking like he wanted to murder him. Getting to him, he moved his feet around, and somehow the ball was kicked clean away from the opponent.

  Blaise had it. He pulled it back.

  Another opponent was coming from the right.

  Blaise saw him.

  The first opponent was coming from the left.

  Blaise kicked the ball behind him to his teammate, darted past the two, and his teammate kicked it right back. It happened within three seconds, and then Blaise was off running with the ball.

  Aspen sighed. “He’s got some extra energy today. He’s pissed, but I can’t figure about what.”
She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “Guess I’ll find out later.”

  I frowned at her. “Find out in a good way or…?”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “A good way. Always a good way.”

  I nodded, but still frowned.

  Jordan and Cross were walking across the bleachers at the bottom, looking right at us.

  Zellman shifted back, his hand raised to him.

  Jordan nodded, taking the steps two at a time. Cross trekked the path coming across the bleachers straight to me, ignoring how a few of the girls were watching him the whole time. Okay. More than a few, a whole lot more.

  A weird, unsettling feeling moved in my chest.

  I remember how Cross had been before he’d been with me. He slept around. Girls liked him, and even when we got together, there were still girls after him, but I felt like I had a modicum of control in that environment. They knew me, or at least knew about me. I was feared, but here…it was a whole different ballgame.

  I was not known.

  I was not feared.

  I was not even around.

  That twinge was acting up again. Just a small fraction, though.

  Zellman took the row behind us as Jordan came in from the side. Cross came from the bottom and dropped into Zellman’s vacated seat. He dropped a kiss on my forehead, moving and murmuring in my ear, “Hey. You look weirded out.”

  I shrugged, but said back, “I can’t cut all the girls wanting you. I don’t know how to process this feeling.”

  He drew back, frowning at me, then he laughed. Cupping my face in both hands, he moved down until his lips were on mine. And then, he proceeded to kiss me. It wasn’t a chaste, polite in public kiss. It was an indecent kiss, one where he was enjoying me, claiming me, and making me start to pant for him.

  And I was. Panting. Lots of panting.

  Then he pulled back, a smug smile on his face. My heart was racing, and I knew I was flushed in the face.

  He did that on purpose. As much for himself and me, as well as for those bitches.

  Leaning back in, he whispered over my lips, “I love you.”

  I whispered back, fisting the front of his shirt, “I know.”

  He drew back, his hand sweeping down my back. Tugging me against his side, his arm went back to my shoulder and I felt good and anchored to his side. I loved him, and I loved that, too.