Crew Series, #1

by Tijan

  I looked at my brother and saw he meant it. But my anger still burned. I could only clip my head in a tight nod.

  He should know someone touching me against my will would set me off. But the sad part was, he didn’t.

  The new guy was watching me, a captive audience. I looked at him, but he didn’t turn away. There was no shame in his gawking.

  Panic rose in me.

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand here, not with my brother and what he didn’t know, and Race and what he shouldn’t know.

  “I gotta walk,” I told them as I took off, shoving my hands into my pockets.

  I wanted to slink down. I didn’t.

  They were all watching me, so I kept my head up and my shoulders back.

  A moment later, I heard a second pair of feet on the ground behind me. Expecting Cross, I didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t press me, knowing I would talk when I wanted. We could walk in silence. Sometimes that’s all I wanted.

  But then it was Race who said quietly, “None of them know?”

  I whirled to him, seeing red, and a second later, I had him backed against a tree, my knife at his throat.

  I blinked a few times.

  He was saying something…

  I couldn’t—what was I doing? I wasn’t in control, but I didn’t retract my knife. It was right there. If I leaned forward into it, it would break his skin.

  My eyes locked with his.

  He stood still. Calm. Waiting.

  I was frozen in place, but then my hand began to twitch.

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “Who touched you against your will?”

  God.

  I shook my head, pulling my knife away from his neck. “You don’t have the right to talk to me like that.”

  His mouth opened. He was going to argue, then he closed it. He nodded. “You’re right. I don’t. I don’t know you.”

  Finally.

  An invisible weight lifted off me.

  “I feel like I do, though.”

  I shook my head, going over to a bench Jordan’s dad had built for his mom. It was set to look over the entire lot, with a walking trail leading into the woods behind us. It wasn’t the only path. They were all over. I took comfort in knowing I could slip away. I could take one path, then another, and another until I was gone.

  “Drake spent the summer with my family, and he and I were inseparable,” Race said. “He talked about you. A lot. He told me about Jordan, about Zellman. Alex has always been my cousin, but I’ve not been that close to him. My dad doesn’t get along with Alex and Drake’s dad. There’s family fighting, so it was nice when Drake stayed with us. I’m an only kid. It was like I had a brother for a summer.”

  He moved to lean against a tree about ten feet from me—close enough for a private conversation, far enough that I had my own space.

  “He never said anything about Cross. Seeing how close you two are, I have to imagine there was a reason.”

  What? I looked up at him. “What are you implying?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  I snorted. “You’d suck at poker.”

  “Drake wouldn’t tell me why you guys broke up.”

  Goddamn. I felt his accusation more than I heard it. He was a stranger. A stranger. He fought with us once. I should rile up. I should…do something, but I was tired. It felt like I had bursts of fight in me. I’d rail against whoever I needed to, whoever was trying to hurt me, push me around, use me, whatever. But then that burst of energy would leave me drained, and the age-old tiredness from life settled back into my bones.

  I was starting to ache for some Cross time.

  I returned my attention to Race. “If you’re accusing me of being a cheating whore, my knife is coming out.”

  The heat was feigned in my voice. My fight was gone.

  He laughed. “You’re not then?”

  “Drake dumped me. Whatever he said, however he talked about me, I was not some love of his life. When he graduated, he wanted nothing to do with me or his group. He left all of us.”

  “Yeah.” Race frowned. “He didn’t mention that.”

  “Makes you wonder. He left out the heavy subjects, but rattled on about me, Zellman, and Jordan. He didn’t give two fucks about those two either. They were like ants to him.” I stood from the bench. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t read into anything he told you.”

  “I’m starting to get that.”

  Easy laughter traveled up to us, and I felt another kick in my chest. Channing was still standing with the guys. He could laugh with them, but he only yelled at me.

  Maybe recently that had been my fault. I ignored him. I came and went as I pleased. I didn’t ask him for anything. I didn’t give him anything. We were like hostile strangers in the same house.

  I was the aggravating little sister. He didn’t understand why I did anything. I wouldn’t open up when he asked. I didn’t eat dinner when he invited me. Even when he was angry, I would just leave. And if he tried to block me in the hallway, I’d go to my room and slip out through the window.

  Every room in the house had an escape route.

  Sadly, he had no clue, and maybe that was the problem.

  Channing never did anything to me. He didn’t help me, but he didn’t hurt me. He just wasn’t there until two years ago, and even that was hit-and-miss most the time. And it wasn’t that I wished he had been.

  I was jealous.

  He’d gotten what I wanted—and I had to turn my thoughts off on that. That was for another night, one accompanied by hard liquor. Lots of liquor.

  Race coughed once, tugging at his collar. “Look, I don’t know anything.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten he was here.

  “What?” I went still. Did he mean… I held my breath a moment.

  “Before, at school.” He cringed. “I was bluffing. I knew you and Drake dated, and exes always know secrets. I was throwing something out there, just trying to push you guys off balance.” He held his hands up. “I swear. Drake never told me any secret about you.”

  I was still wary of him. “Why’d you fight with us tonight?”

  “Because my cousin was wrong.”

  I eyed him.

  “I’m not crew, obviously, but I’m not a pussy. And I’m not a bad guy.”

  So he thought his cousin was. If he thought that after the first day, he was in for a rough ride this year. And the way he looked at me, it was always changing. Now I was a new puzzle. He was unlearning what he thought he knew, trying to find the place where the new pieces fit in.

  I shook my head. “Do yourself a favor. Stop trying to figure me out.”

  He let out a rueful laugh. “Maybe I should.” He glanced in the direction of the guys.

  “Alex is going to kick you out of the house. And that’s if he decides you going against him was a family issue, not a crew thing.”

  “And if he doesn’t? If he decides it’s a crew thing?”

  “Then you’re fucked. His entire group will turn on you. You’ll become the number-one enemy at school.”

  He barked out a laugh. “This whole system—it’s like nothing else matters. Your rules, your way, your lifestyle. That’s it.”

  Exactly.

  I offered an olive branch. “You need to decide where your loyalties lie. If you’re not joining a group, you better get to your cousin ASAP and kiss his ass until you got no lips. Alex can be a somewhat decent guy on a good day, but if he thinks someone’s looking down at him, he turns into a viper.”

  “What about you guys? You taking on new members?”

  My chest grew tight. “We don’t work like the Ryerson crew. There aren’t applications or written rules for us.”

  “I’m not much of an ass-kisser, and I’ve got a feeling Alex isn’t going to be my biggest fan here.” The side of his mouth lifted. “Good thing I know how to fight.”

  Yes, he did.

  He seemed to have real training, not the rough-scraping most
of the guys used in fights.

  I was glad to hear about the bluff, but why do that? Why mess with us on the first day, then back us up that same evening? Only time would tell. And with that last thought, he was officially no longer my concern.

  I nodded to where my guys were. “I’m heading back.”

  The guys were still laughing with my brother when we got back, and everyone looked over as we approached.

  Jordan extended a hand to Race. “Thanks for backing us up in there.” A cocky grin appeared. “Even though we’re the right choice, I know Alex is family to you.”

  “Yeah.” Race shook his hand, glancing sideways at me. “Got a little advice on how to act moving forward.”

  Jordan nodded, settling back against his truck.

  I felt Cross’ gaze on me, but Channing spoke up, drawing my attention.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked me.

  No. I sighed on the inside. “Yes.”

  Things were stifled between my brother and me. That was the best word to describe it. After Mom died, he hardly ever came home, choosing his friends instead. Then Dad went to prison. And because he’d fucked up the financials so much, on top of his crime, we lost the house. It came down to me going into the foster system or with Channing. We had no other blood family in the area, no one who would take me.

  Things were still…distant, on my part too. We’d been little more than roommates the first year and a half. It’d only been the last six months that he’d started to want to know more about me and where I was.

  This talk right now was not something I wanted to deal with. He was in no place to lecture me. He’d gotten into worse shit younger than me.

  He nodded to the side, and I walked away from the group for a second time.

  “I know I said it before, but Heather’s not going to press charges,” he assured me. “Because of that, though, she’s responsible for all the damages. You and your guys need to help out, come in and clean, do a fundraiser for her or something to help with the repairs.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I can see that.”

  It was a technicality that we’d started the fight. The real person who’d started it was Alex Ryerson. He’d cover the damages; he just didn’t know it yet.

  “We’ll take care of it,” I added. “Don’t worry.”

  “And apologize to Heather.”

  I threw him a dark look. That was inevitable. “I know.”

  His eyes narrowed, then he rolled them, shaking his head. “You drive me insane sometimes.”

  I grunted. The feeling was mutual. “What else do you want, Channing? You could’ve yelled at me over the phone.”

  His eyes widened. “What? You mean you would’ve answered it? You would’ve given me the time of day suddenly? Versus all the other days when you ignore that I’m even a part of your life?” He shook his head. “Trust me, I would’ve preferred to call and not hitch a ride with some guy I don’t know. I could have stayed back and tried to help Heather clean up your mess.”

  I threw my head back. “It wasn’t my mess! Stop blaming me for everything that happens in your life!”

  His eyes narrowed again, and a confused look flashed across his face. He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Look. Just… I’m going to stay at Heather’s tonight. Maybe instead of you guys doing the cleanup, I’ll have my guys do it. You can owe me.”

  The place needed to be fixed immediately. Heather needed Manny’s to be operating, so I understood what he was thinking. It’d take forever if Heather relied on us to fix it.

  But owing my brother? I already hated owing him what I did: a place to stay, sometimes food, and any signature a guardian had to give for a minor. And now this? I didn’t want more on that list, but fucking hell.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets and hung my head. “Yeah. Whatever. Just let me know what I owe you.”

  “Dinners.”

  I lifted my head. “What?”

  “Dinners. Every night.”

  Fuuuck. “You work sometimes.”

  “You show up wherever I’m at. If I’m at home, dinner there. If I’m at the bar, we can eat in the back or in my office. If I’m at Heather’s, go there. Seven every night.”

  “Come on.” My lips thinned. I glanced at the guys.

  He caught my gaze. “Bring your friends. I don’t give a shit. You’re my sister. I get you for another year before you take off, and after that, I’ve got a feeling you’d rather I never see you again. So dinners. I get that from you now. That’s what you owe me.”

  This wasn’t a debt I could pawn off on Alex.

  I gritted my teeth, but there were other emotions mixed with my frustration. They all swirled together inside, and like every day over the last ten years, I just let them be. It would cost too much to try and unwind them all and face them.

  “Fine.”

  He nodded, patting me on the shoulder. “I’m not going to kid myself. I know you’re not coming home tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow at seven. We’ll have tacos.”

  Tacos. Lovely.

  But it was. My stomach growled at the idea, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten since my burger for lunch. I’d only finished half before bailing out on Heather too.

  “Okay. Tomorrow.” He stepped around me, patting me on the arm before calling, “Hey, new guy!” He lifted a hand to Race as he headed back to the group. “I need a ride back. You brought me here; you take me back.”

  “What?” Race glanced around. “I wasn’t planning on going back…”

  He trailed off as the guys started laughing.

  I started after my brother and could see his head shaking, his shoulders rolled back. This wasn’t my brother being a pain in my ass. He’d used his cocky voice, the one he used whenever he was around his crew. That brother was charismatic, a leader, authoritative. I saw what everyone else saw. Channing had such a powerful influence on everyone in Roussou. He had started the entire system, but he did more than that. He protected our town too. I didn’t know the extent of it, because he didn’t let me know, but I knew shady shit went down in and around Roussou. And I knew it was his group that handled that all. He was revered, with good reason, but he wasn’t anyone else’s big brother. No one else was his sister. He walked away from me, and it was as if he shed his “big brother” skin. He needed a ride home. He wasn’t making any of us take him, for whatever reason. His target was Race, and whether the new guy knew it or not, he was going to do what my brother wanted.

  Even I felt a trace of sympathy for the guy.

  He had no idea that what Channing said went. Channing ruled. It was as simple as that.

  Jordan laughed, clapping Race on the shoulder. “You’re shit out of luck.” He gestured to Channing. “You met the big brother tonight. He gets different treatment when he’s in that role. He’s not just Bren’s brother.”

  “Who is he?”

  Zellman began laughing, but Cross spoke over him, looking right at Channing. “He’s the godfather. If he says you do something, you do it. Bren’s the only one who can talk back to him. Because, you know, family.”

  Race’s shoulders fell. “Okay.” He nodded to my brother. “I’ll take you back.”

  They moved toward Race’s vehicle, and as they opened their doors, my guys went back to where I’d been standing. Except I was gone.

  Cross had glanced at me, and I gave him the look. I’d mouthed, “I’m out” before stepping away.

  I only needed to take one step back, and I was in the shadows. I didn’t wait to see Cross’ reaction. Not wanting to hash it out with the guys, I headed back through the walking paths. I knew how to criss and cross until I came out to the road a couple miles north of where Cross lived.

  That firefly had come back. I felt its presence enveloping me like a warm blanket. There was no one else but me out here, and I tipped my head back, drinking in the night. The silence was peaceful. I used to yearn for it when my mother wasn’t sick, when Dad was drinking. I hated Channing for leaving, but he’d been the sma
rt one. I was the only one who heard her yelling, him yelling. I had to wait until something shattered, then there would be thumps, thuds, things crashing to the floor.

  The cries came next, but not from me.

  I was always either under my covers, silent tears rolling down my face, or slipping out the window. I took lessons from Channing early on. If he could leave, so could I. I was six when I’d first walked across town by myself to Cross’ house.

  But over time those sounds had faded at our house, and different sounds took over.

  The beeping of whatever medical device she had in her room. The sound of her vomiting, moaning, groaning, weeping. And the sound of his cursing, the crinkle of the brown bags he’d use to carry booze into the house.

  When she got sick, they stopped fighting. She suffered in her bedroom, and he drank in the basement.

  But even those sounds eventually went away.

  She went into the hospital…and there was nothing.

  Absolute silence.

  Dad didn’t even stay in the basement anymore.

  Channing was gone, and so was he. He went to his bar, or his friends’ house. If I wasn’t at the hospital with Mom, I was home alone. That was a silence I hated until it became a part of me.

  I blended with it.

  From time to time I felt that same silence again—the firefly type. It rose up in me, wrapping around me.

  It kept me company for about a mile until a truck pulled up next to me.

  I heard it coming, the engine rumbling and the light growing like a slow-glowing candle. It chased away the firefly, and as the window rolled down, I felt my insides stop bleeding too.

  Cross slowed the truck to my pace, but he didn’t say anything.

  I didn’t either.

  I wanted to keep walking, and he let me for a little while—until my insides had completely dried up. It was time to rejoin the world, and with a small exhale, I reached for the door handle.

  Cross nudged on the brakes and waited as I got inside. Like so many other nights, not a word was spoken. He lifted his foot from the brake, and we drove the rest of the way into town to pull up outside his house.

  No lights were on, and the house was quiet as we walked in. We proceeded as we always did.