Always Crew (Crew Series Book 3)

by Tijan

  Channing spoke without looking at me, “We gotta take off, but I need to have a word with Bren before I do.” He turned to face me now. “And since he’s here, I can’t tell all of you guys at once. You’re going to have to fill your crew in without him around.”

  That didn’t sound good, but I nodded.

  Better to tackle shit head on.

  “What’s going on?”

  “First.” He pointed at the window. “That fucker is not here just for Bren. She might be part of the reason, but she’s not the only reason. I talked to Brock and Gramps today, and a cop I know on the force back in Cain. It’s the same situation in Fallen Crest. There’s some corrupt cops and some decent ones. There’s enough decent ones that are using Brock’s team to help round up the Red Demons, so that’s saying a lot. Don’t go to the cops. Secondly, they have one big case that spans a shit ton of them with one eyewitness. That witness, I’m going to try to figure out who it is. From the rumblings we’re hearing, the Red Demons are trying to find out who it is, too. Someone local, and someone powerful. Or someone who has local ties, let’s say that. I’m also hearing that there’s a Red Demon at Cain U.”

  I frowned. That was definitely news. “As a student?”

  His face was grave. He nodded. “Yeah, so heads-up about that. I got no clue who it is, but we’ll do what we can on our end.”

  My frown only deepened. “I thought you were friendly with the Red Demons?”

  “Friendly. At an impasse. They drink my beer. I make sure they stay out of Roussou. It’s a tentative peace, and if somehow this rolls over to Bren, that peace is over.” He paused, his jaw clenching. “I hate saying this, but they’re too big for me. They got ties to a lot of people, ties I don’t know about, and they expanded fast since Raith moved into power. The good thing I found out is that they’re keeping Derrick out of it.”

  I knew there was animosity between Channing and his dad. Bren had said as much, but hearing him talk about his dad as if he were a stranger, or even an enemy, was a different thing altogether. I was remembering times I wanted to tear my dad’s head off, too, and it wasn’t the same thing. Not the same at all.

  I felt a twinge of regret. Maybe I’d overreacted when it came to my own?

  Channing was still talking, looking back outside again. “Remember this. If they get rid of that witness, then that case is gone. There’s major tension in Cain because of it, and they’re focused on Cain because it’s the middle ground of a bunch of networks. There’s territory beefs going on down south, but from what I’m hearing, the cartel has a few people operating up here too. Red Demons are going to go after them, but while there’s warrants out for their key people, they’re laying low.”

  “I don’t want to get pulled into this. Bren made a choice last year. She wanted a normal life, or normal for her. Not this.”

  “I know. He should’ve steered clear, at least until everything is done.” He shook his head, grinding his teeth. “Bren’s like me. She needs to fight. Bounty hunting, that’s a clean way to do it. There’s a bad guy. You’re the good guy. Things might get rough or they might not. There’s an adrenaline rush, and I love it. I live for this shit, but dealing with an MC, and this MC specifically, is a different beast. I don’t want that for Bren.” He looked back, a roughness showing in his eyes. “I got a call from Roussou PD. His case was tossed out, so he’s not on parole or anything, but they told him not to leave town. He left, and they’re not happy about it. Having said that, there’s not much they can do about it. My buddy in the Cain Department told me that they did get a call about him. They know he’s here and they know the Red Demons are seemingly not using him at all. He’s been given the all-clear from the MC, which means he’s not to get pulled in at all. I’ve no clue why they’re doing that. Maybe they think he’ll be more beneficial as a straight civilian, who knows, but all the big players know about him.”

  Got it.

  It was a lot to take in, but I understood.

  I asked, “What do you want us to do?”

  He shook his head, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “Do what you’re already doing? Love my sister and take care of her. Keep an eye out?”

  “I can do that.” Now it was my turn. I folded my arms over my chest, leaving the water on the counter. “What’s going on with Harper, Sr?”

  A different look came over Channing. More business-like. He tipped his head back, his hand falling back to his side. “Right. We looked into it. Harper answers to someone else, someone illegal. We’re trying to figure out who it is and see if we know someone who can do an approach for Sweets. She’s still in Roussou?”

  I nodded. “Zellman’s ex is supposed to give birth any day. They’re friends. Jordan said she dropped out of college to take care of her and help her out with the kid.”

  “Or to hide?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Or to watch out for her mother, because that’s why she thought she could use Harper, Jr. for that.”

  “Whole situation is sideways. You guys worked over the boy?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “He’s been quiet.”

  “He’s starting to make noise.”

  Channing frowned. “That’s not good. Either says he’s stupid, reckless, or he doesn’t need to keep quiet anymore.”

  “Before we left, I threatened him, said I knew people who could hurt his own mother if he talked.”

  Channing nodded, his frown deepening. “I’ll call Lincoln, have him find the mom and sit on her a bit. My guess is that you’ll find that Mrs. Harper was sent on an extended vacation somewhere, probably overseas, and definitely off the grid.”

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit!

  That wasn’t good.

  “Then we have a problem.”

  He agreed, “Then you have a problem.” He went back to staring at his problem. “I gotta go back. Got work to do. Got a woman to love on, but my gut is saying I’m needed here.”

  I turned to watch Bren, too. She was smiling.

  “You’re glowing, Bren. Damned glowing…”

  Her dad was right, and looking at him watching his daughter, he knew it. He had a slight smile holding firm. It’d been there the entire time. The only time it faded, and it wasn’t gone all the way, was when Channing entered the scene.

  “We’ll take care of Bren.”

  “I know. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  His gaze was still hard on his dad. It was more than obvious whom he was worried about hurting his sister.

  “We’ll watch for that, too.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t sound appeased, not by a long shot.

  BREN

  My dad went to Roussou.

  Channing went to Roussou.

  And my life, weird as it sounds, had a new normal. Again.

  The next two weeks, things were boring. Really boring. The only blip of action was that Sunday had her baby, a little girl she named Drayana. Zellman told us after a call to her that she was already calling her baby Dray, and I had to speculate that the nickname was purposeful. It wasn’t long after that phone call that Zellman decided he wanted to head back and ‘be there’ in case Sunday needed anything.

  He was still bringing girls home. He was still heading out to parties, and enjoying college life, but Zellman didn’t hear from Sunday one day, and that’d been enough for him. I had no clue if he had midterms or not, but he went to Roussou. We weren’t given any word on when he was returning either, so it was a stay-tuned kind of situation.

  As for my work, I was part of the team, but they had benched me because of my concussion.

  I also met Bonbon, who decided to come back for a visit.

  She walked in, her hair wild and looked like she combed it with a fork. Her eyes were dancing all around, and she stopped, seeing me. “Who are you?”

  “I’m—”

  She flicked her head to the side, grimaced, and cursed loudly. “FUCKING APESHIT HAIRY BALLS!” Then she looke
d back at me, her eyeballs taking a second to center on me. After that, she breezed by and said, “My angels said to be nice to you so stay out of my way, kid. Unless you have a fork and a tail, and if that’s the way you party, let’s go a few rounds.”

  Everyone was right. She was nuts.

  The first day she came in, she was another version of Bonnie, except with graying and white hair. She liked to wear old polo shirts, and mom jeans, with socks and sneakers. Her feet smelled. A lot. It wasn’t a coincidence that the day Bonbon came into the office, it became mandatory to keep the windows open and the fans at full blast. Air needed to be circulated out windows ASAP, and the air-conditioner tended to let the stink stay confined indoors.

  Besides always muttering to herself, always shoving her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she mostly stayed away from me. That wasn’t to say the same for anyone else. She mooned over Big. She brought cookies in for Burly. She watched Brock, sniffed her nose at Hawk, and there was usually an argument behind closed doors once a day with either Bonnie or Gramps. They rotated, apparently.

  But Trundle and me, she stayed away from. I wasn’t even sure she knew I was there.

  As for my concussion, I had stayed home for the first week. I was allowed back into the office the last few days of my second week, and I only did paperwork. And that meant, if I had to copy, scan, or print something, I was their girl. I ran errands, too. Coffee. Lunch. I ordered pizza if they asked me to. I answered the phones, too, because there was no way they were going to let Bonbon do that.

  Someone called in once, and before anyone else could pick up, she answered it, “9-1-1 operations.” And then she hung up, saw us all watching her, and laughed. “They’ll call back, but I made them shit their pants first.”

  I kinda loved her after that, but from a distance. A far, far distance.

  Big seemed intrigued. Burly stopped accepting her cookies.

  As for Cross and me, he was kissing his way up my body right now.

  Shoving my legs open, he slid inside, and we were good. We were really good.

  “Fuck,” he panted against my throat. “You feel so good.”

  Pleasure was licking up my spine, and I ground against him. I scraped my nails down his back in response, and he shivered, as I knew he would. Winding my legs around his waist, I moved against him, almost damn purring. “Fuck me, Cross.”

  I was panting right alongside him, the throb in my body deep and demanding.

  He growled, rearing back.

  Taking my legs, he lifted them up and moved to fit between them, resting them against his shoulders. Then he moved back in, hitting at a much deeper angle. I was gasping, my vision growing black from the sensations hitting me.

  He rubbed my clit, and fireworks. Fire-fucking-works, I’m telling you.

  Someone was screaming.

  Thinking that was me.

  I couldn’t tell. I was gone, goooone, and then as my body hit, jerked, climaxed, and started to tremble, he flipped me over. I was brought up to my knees. My hands were pulled together, resting against the headboard, and he slammed back inside. His body lay over mine, as he kept my hands pinned with one of his. The other was kneading my thigh, and he continued moving inside of me.

  I almost fell. My legs were jelly from my own orgasm, but he wrapped one arm around me, holding me against him as he kept thrusting inside.

  Stars again.

  Fireworks bursting…again.

  A guttural scream ripped from me, followed by his own growl, and he nipped the back of my neck as I felt him jerking inside of me.

  Holy.

  Fucking.

  Holy.

  That was it.

  Holy fucking holy.

  My brain cells were gone. Dunzo. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. Cross peppered the back of my shoulder with soft kisses as he slipped out, then he picked me up and moved me around to lie against him on the bed.

  I had no function of my legs and arms right now. I was helpless to curl into his body, nuzzling into his neck. Helpless. So helpless, and I was loving it.

  If I didn’t move for a week, I’d be okay with that. Perfectly content. Happily satisfied, and my bones were gone. Melted into my skin and my organs. I was a limp noodle.

  Cross moved one of his legs between mine, holding me, and he was kissing my throat again. He was moving around me, so he was half-lying on top of me. I was still catching my breath, one of my hands falling to his back, when suddenly—

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  -–against the door.

  “I heard you all the way down in the basement. Some of us aren’t getting shit. You don’t have to pour fucking salt in the wound. Assholes!”

  Cross paused, his head between my breasts, and then he started laughing.

  I was still too weak to do anything except cup the back of his head. “Don’t stop,” I moaned, lifting my hips just a bit to push against his.

  He groaned. “I don’t think I have any more in me, but—” He ground back against me, and he did.

  He so did.

  It was just the beginning, though.

  I sighed after, my hand falling from him to land with a plop on the bed. “I’m dead. I’ve got no more.”

  He laughed, nipping the side of my breast before lifting his head. “You do, too.” His hand moved between us, finding my clit again, and he was right. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he brought me to a third orgasm.

  Cross and I were doing just fine.

  “I need to go out.”

  Jordan made that announcement as he dropped into one of the chairs in the living room. Cross was working on his laptop. I was curled up next to him, lying across the rest of the couch, half leaning up against his arm.

  I was texting back and forth with Tabatha, who finally reached out. I’d been trying to get ahold of her since Sunday had her baby. It wasn’t until today that she finally responded, and I was given the ultra-important mission of not telling Jordan anything she was telling me—and that the 4-1-1 was that she was dating back in Roussou. Little did she know, I wasn’t violating my crew obligation because Jordan already knew. Zellman told us everything he was finding out, it was almost too much. I mean, we hadn’t needed to know how long Drayana’s umbilical cord was, with photos and all.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Bren goes back to working tomorrow in her bounty-hunter-in-training or whatever. You have tests this week, just like me.” Jordan shifted in his seat, lines sticking out around his mouth. His whole energy was edgy and frustrated. He clipped out, “There’s a huge block party on frat row. I think we should go.”

  “You were banned, remember.”

  “It’s a street party. They can’t ban me from a street party, and I think they dropped that. Tab’s not even here.”

  True.

  Cross glanced down at me.

  I looked at him.

  I already knew neither of us cared, but Jordan needed to go out.

  No words were said.

  I sat up at the same time Cross shut his laptop.

  Jordan grinned. “I love you guys.”

  I snorted. “We’re going to a party for you. Not a huge hardship here.” I was crossing the room, heading to go and change.

  He called after me, “Parties are usually a hardship for you, Bren.”

  True. I glanced back, grinning and seeing him shooting me a grin. “We owe you.”

  He grunted. “Fuck yeah, you do. The animalistic sex was a bit much.”

  Cross was walking by him, and without saying a word, his hand flashed out. He smacked Jordan on the back of his head but kept going.

  Jordan called after us, half-laughing, “Don’t go another round in there, and you’re driving, by the way. I’m starting to drink right now.”

  JORDAN

  I loved going out with my crew.

  It would’ve been better if Z was here, but it was what it was. Bren and Cross didn’t get it. Well, Cross did, but Bren was fucking clueless. Both
had no idea the effect they had on people. They were noticed. Watched. Observed. Bren and Cross walked down the street, and it was just known that they were there. It didn’t matter if people didn’t know them. If they didn’t, people got curious. Bren was beautiful. Cross was badass. There was something they gave off, something in the air. People felt it, tuned into it, and woke.

  These were my people. Mine.

  I loved walking with them. I loved having their backs. I loved knowing they’d have my backs.

  No one fucking got it. None.

  These people were my family. I would die for them, and they’d do the same.

  It was nothing but pride I felt when I walked beside them down the street.

  Everyone was out partying. All the frat houses had their lights shining, windows open, and their own music pounding out. There were neon lights strung up all over. Girls were running around wearing bikinis, neon bracelets, and waving neon light sabers in the air like they were at a rave. Some lawn games were set up, and even though it was nearing dusk, they’d be playing long into the night. There was a reason they were all partying tonight, but I didn’t know the why. A couple girls from class texted me, letting me know so I knew this shit wasn’t just frat and sororities. And thinking of them, I shot a couple texts out to them and a few other girls.

  I wasn’t hurting for company, but they weren’t Tabatha.

  And even thinking that, I was feeling a burn in my chest.

  When push came to shove, she clammed up. She did her own thing. She thought she could handle it on her own, and that shit hurt. Felt like a knife sliding between my ribs, you know?

  But I failed her, too.

  Bren was the one who hadn’t. Bren found out about the cheating and called bullshit. Yeah, yeah. I know she was all huffy and puffy that she was going to go and beat the crap out of Tabatha, or think about it, but Bren was actually softening. All her dysfunctions from the past shuttered, she was becoming functional more and more, and she was friends with Tabatha now. She cared about Tabatha. They weren’t normal girlfriends by a long stretch, that was something Tab had come to accept about Bren, but Bren would get to that, too. One day. But all that being said, she went to find out the truth because she was right.