Always Crew (Crew Series Book 3)

by Tijan

  He growled. “That doesn’t work for me. Why the fuck are we doing this?”

  I grinned. “Because Aspen called and it’s—”

  He threw open his door and stalked out.

  I laughed, following. Meeting around at the front, Cross shook his head. “You owe me for this.” And his hand dropped to my ass, giving me a good squeeze.

  My mouth dropped, but I felt a whole zing go through me. Yeah. Maybe I would owe him, and he relaxed, grinning. “You okay with that?”

  I was just fine with that. A full fucking throb was starting in me, and now I was pissed we had to do dinner and a movie.

  I hadn’t told him about the movie part yet.

  “So.”

  Aspen looked at me.

  I looked back. “So.”

  Cross and Blaise were glaring at each other.

  The waitress had come and gone. We had our drinks. The orders were put in, now we waited. And we had ordered so quickly, because yeah, the silence. All the silence.

  Aspen cleared her throat, picking up her drink. “So, um…Cross.”

  He looked at her.

  She swallowed, her head dipping. “How’s your sister?”

  Immediately, the tension slipped into a different feel. Blaise settled back, a cocky smirk coming to his face and Cross’ face darkened, tightening. He nodded at his brother. “He hasn’t told you? From what I’ve heard, she’s talking more to him than me.”

  Blaise grunted. “She’s your twin.”

  “You got an opinion on my relationship with Taz?”

  And, “When I get pulled into listening to her complain about how you’re still not taking her calls, yeah. I got an opinion,” was shot right back.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I’ve already told you. Stop ignoring your sister.”

  “I’m not ignoring my sister.”

  “You been to see her?”

  Cross frowned. He glanced at me.

  Blaise wasn’t done. “When’s the last time you talked to her? Talk-talked, like on the goddamn phone and longer than five minutes.”

  Cross continued to frown.

  Blaise leaned forward, the smirk gone and a scowl in its place. “Then educate me on how she and Race are doing. Oh. Wait. You can’t, because you don’t know.”

  “The fuck you’re talking about?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you should call your sister.”

  His point was made. The mic was dropped and Blaise leaned back, that smirk coming back once more. But his eyes narrowed, and he was waiting.

  Cross’ eyes narrowed right back.

  The air was thick.

  A shiver went down my spine.

  I met Aspen’s gaze, hers was worried. I was just waiting.

  With this tension, Cross was debating if he should jerk his brother over the table and throw down, once again, or move forward in a different manner.

  When he drew in a breath, and his hand pressed hard into his leg, I knew he was fighting for control.

  Damn.

  That meant he was losing control.

  I coughed and took over. My hand went to his, and I pressed my nails into the palm side of his hand, not enough to hurt, but enough to pull him out of whatever fighting mode he was fast going into, and it was my turn.

  “Why are you such a jackass all the time?”

  Aspen’s eyes bulged out. A shocked gargle rippled from her.

  Blaise’s eyes slid, no joke, slid toward me. He looked like a cat preening for a new victim.

  I had to smile because whether he was realizing it or not, I was off-limits. One, I was his brother’s girlfriend. Two, Aspen liked me. And three, I was also his girlfriend’s protector tomorrow night. Triple the protection.

  I waited, enjoying this, and a second later, he made a frustrated growl. “Fucking A.”

  I laughed.

  The sound did it, cutting through the layers of packed air, and both brothers took in some of that oxygen, moving it through their lungs.

  Aspen seemed to be panting, her eyes still wide and jerking from one side of the table to her boyfriend. Noticing, Blaise shot her a reassuring smile and his arm moved under the table. Then stopped and both shared a more tender look.

  Aspen melted, and Blaise softened.

  It was a miracle we were witnessing from where I was sitting.

  At that time, the waitress brought out the appetizers, and as soon as she left, Cross said quietly, “I don’t know what Taz is saying to you, but she and I are good. We’ll always be good. We shared a womb together, and what issues we might have are between me and her. Not you. Whatever she’s saying, it’s not my relationship with her that she’s worried about.”

  Blaise frowned, his eyebrows dipping down. “What are you saying?”

  Cross waited a beat. Then, “I’m the brother who almost killed someone for her. You’re the brother she just met, and the one who is going to a different college than her. You’re the brother she was trying to establish a better connection with before he left from where she was, and you’re the brother who was dodging her most of the summer.”

  Oh. Whoa.

  I hadn’t thought of that, and glancing at him from under my eyelids, Cross hadn’t said anything about Taz calling him either.

  Blaise looked at Aspen.

  She tilted her head to the side, and I knew they were holding hands under the table. I could see from the arms moving toward each other.

  Aspen murmured, “The nice thing about your sister is that she seems pretty forgiving.”

  Blaise winced, closing his eyes.

  I had to note this.

  We were having a moment. Well, me because I was sitting here, but it was mostly Cross sharing, Cross pointing out something deeper, and Blaise not hiding his regret. He was showing it. Cross was silent, letting him have his moment, and Aspen was there, helping to sweep up the regret so he felt a little better, a little hopeful.

  It was a nice moment.

  It was a family moment.

  Blaise dipped his head to Cross. “Thanks for that.”

  My guy’s smile was there, but it was cool, as was his tone. “Good. Now tell me what’s going on with her and Race?”

  And there, in our little diner, I felt another shiver sliding up my spine this time. There’d been random moments the two had joined forces, but neither wanted to. They’d been forced to. This time, not the same. Taz unknowingly had brought ’em together in a way, but I didn’t think she’d enjoy Blaise sharing what he shared. “He’s been flirting with another girl in his econ class.”

  Yeah.

  She really wouldn’t like that that was shared because Cross’ eyes instantly went flat and dangerous.

  Blaise’s mirrored his, and I knew at some point in the future we’d be traveling to Grant West.

  I enjoyed telling Cross about the movie after there was a fight over who got to pay. Blaise won because he slipped away and tracked our waitress down, through the kitchen, in the back, where she was on her break.

  He got the check and he was already starting to gloat about it.

  That’s when I told him.

  “The night’s not done.”

  Cross stopped and stiffened, his head jerking my way. “What?” he clipped out.

  My cheeks were starting to hurt from all the grinning. I shouldn’t find this so entertaining by now, but I did. I couldn’t help it. We were past when the tension had been alarming between the two.

  I nodded, biting my lip and stifling my laughter. “Yeah. We’re going to the movies now.”

  “What?!”

  Cross won the movie fight.

  We got there first.

  He picked the movie.

  He paid for the four tickets.

  He was the one who gloated through the whole showing.

  From: Cross

  To: Tazsters

  Subject: wtf

  How often do you talk to Blaise?

  Stop telling him that you and I aren’t talking. That shit ain�
��t funny.

  I’m still the best twin.

  Love you a fucking ton.

  What the hell is going on with Race? Not lying, T. I will come there with my crew and I will handle him. I trained with that guy. I know his weaknesses.

  But for real, are you okay? You’ve not said anything about Race.

  —always the better twin

  From: Blaise DeVroe

  To: Tazsters

  Subject: sorry but also not really sorry

  Heads up. Cross is pissed. I said something to him.

  Blaise

  From: Brenners

  To: Tazsters

  Subject: kinda worried

  What is going on with you and Race? Is it the roommate thing?

  Bren

  From: Brenners

  To: Race Ryerson

  Subject: fair warning

  I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it. I mean it. If you don’t want to be with her, cut her loose. If you do, treat her right. Love her. Cherish her. Protect her. And fair warning, Cross is pissed. There might be a trip in the future.

  Bren

  BREN

  I was getting ready to head to Aspen’s dorm where she assured me was ‘ground zero’ for the insurrection of girls’ night. I asked what that meant, and her reply, “Drinking. Lots of drinking. And getting our outfits approved.”

  I was down for whatever the night was going to entail. That was, until Cross came to my bedroom and knocked on the door once.

  I looked up. He was standing just inside the doorway, a funny expression pulling at his mouth.

  I paused. “What?”

  “Um. You might want to come downstairs.”

  I’d heard car doors outside, and conversation, but I just assumed the guys were back. Jordan texted saying they wouldn’t get home Friday night after all. So then it was Saturday morning. We were now well past seven in the evening. I was supposed to be at Aspen’s in an hour.

  So that was why I asked, “Jordan and Zellman are finally home?”

  Cross didn’t respond, just watched me a second. “Something like that.”

  Unease trickled through me, but I went.

  Cross led the way.

  I came behind and paused halfway because Jordan wasn’t alone. Zellman wasn’t alone either.

  Tabatha stood just inside the door, two bags on the floor next to her, and she was watching me, her eyes large and sad.

  She swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Heya, Bren.”

  “You’re back?”

  She nodded, glancing to Jordan.

  He was standing beside the couch, his hands in his pockets and a whole brooding look on his face. His hair was messed up. He didn’t look like he cared. His eyes were exasperated, and he flicked them to me. “She’s staying for a few days.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  Cross finished going down the stairs and moved toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink, Tabatha?”

  “Water?”

  Cross nodded.

  “Thank you.” But she was looking back at me, and still biting down on her lip. “Is it okay if I’m here? I mean,” she linked her fingers together, her hands wringing, “my sisters have been amazing, but I’m not ready. I go back there and Jessinda,” she cut off, a short and dry laugh coming from her. “You don’t know Jessinda. She’ll want to know everything, and I’ve gotten enough texts from her to know she found out some things and yeah. She won’t stop till she crucifies Tim.”

  Tim.

  I forgot that guy had a first name.

  That asshole Harper just seemed the most fitting way to address him.

  I kept my thoughts to myself, looking at Jordan, and gave him a look look. His mouth flattened and his eyes narrowed, but he knew what I was asking. Had Jessinda spilled the beans like she was told?

  He coughed, his voice coming out as if he were being force-fed. “Uh. About Jessinda—” He stopped, his gaze steady on Tabatha as his Adam’s apple moved up and down in a swallow.

  Tabatha shook her head. “Don’t. I know.”

  I was effectively rocked back on my heels, though I didn’t actually move. I felt the momentum. It was a fast swing from my blind spot as Tabatha continued, surprising me even more, “Jessy called, told me that she got drunk and Jordan was there, and Jordan’s hot, and yeah.” She cast him another look, the pain that flared was so vivid, I felt punched by it again. “I mean, I deserved it. I know what I did—”

  “Stop.”

  Tabatha jumped backwards, skirting until she hit the wall.

  She didn’t seem as if she registered hitting the wall. Her gaze was glued to Jordan and he dropped to the couch. His head in his hands, his elbows on his knees and he bent low, letting out a long and low, savage growl before he shot back to his feet.

  His eyes were wild and he advanced on her. “You messed up by not coming to me, to us. That’s it. We know he told you that you had to do what you did, and that’s a crime.”

  Her eyes started shining, and she began blinking rapidly.

  Her face lowered.

  He was across the room in two strides. Touching under her chin, he raised her head up and he kept on, speaking softer, “I’m a guy. I can’t put myself in your shoes and tell you what you should’ve done or shouldn’t have done. The only thing I can say is that I wished you had come to me. That’s it. I can only imagine you felt a certain way, a desperate sort of way that you did what he said to do so that the whole situation didn’t blow back on your mother. Right? Because that’s why you did what you did, if you felt forced to do what you did.”

  Tears were rolling down her face.

  I was thinking this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan.” Her voice cracked into a whisper.

  “I know.” He stepped back, looking at me.

  Zellman had been sitting on the other couch this whole time, his own bag beside it and he watched all of it. Cross came back to the living room, a few water bottles in hand, and he handed them off to Z. They were passed to Jordan, then Tabatha.

  She took it, staring at it, and she began picking at the label, just running her nail over it. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “I–Jordan told me what you guys have done.” She looked up, tears brimming around her eyes. “Thank you.”

  I nodded. “We care.”

  Her face shuddered.

  “Thank you,” she choked out again.

  “Tab.” Jordan reached for her, but she dodged him, bending to grab one of her bags. She went around. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

  Jordan let out a ragged breath when we heard the bathroom door close. The fan was turned on after that.

  He sank back down on the couch. “Holy fuck.”

  Cross moved in, taking a seat on one of the chairs. He sat on the arm, his foot going to the coffee table.

  Zellman lounged back on the couch, his leg resting on the table, too. Both were watching Jordan, and Jordan looked to me.

  “I don’t know how to put into words what happened to her. I was so pissed and hurt thinking she cheated. Then hearing he extorted her? I can’t comprehend what that actually is. There’s gotta be layers and layers of shit there, and how do you unpack all of that?”

  He was looking to me for answers. I shook my head. “No one has the answers for that except Tab, and honestly, I don’t think she even has them. No matter what, she should talk to a therapist and go from there.”

  He nodded, raking a hand over his head. “Fuck. Just, fuck.”

  Cross nodded to Zellman. “You okay? With Sunday?”

  Zellman shrugged, his face tightening. “Shit with Sunday is same ol’, same ol’. She’s talking about going to Florida and living with her aunt. There’s a job she can do there, and her aunt’s willing to watch Dray during the day. I guess she’s got a bunch of cousins there, too.”

  “You and her?”

  He rolled his eyes to Cross’
question. “She don’t want anything from me. She’s kinda about hating men right now. She and Drake, they don’t see eye to eye—”

  Cross shot me a look.

  I straightened from my wall. “Wait. What?”

  Zellman’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

  “Sunday and Drake? They’re talking?”

  “Yeah.” His head moved up and down. “Why?”

  Cross made a scoffing sound. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Both Jordan and Zellman looked from Cross to me and back again.

  “This have to do with the crew meeting we needed to have?”

  Goddamn Drake. That’s all that was going through my mind, but I let out a sigh. “Yeah. He called and asked for us to do him a solid. He was claiming that Sunday wasn’t letting him be a part of Dray’s life.”

  “That’s not true, like at all. She calls him every day and they email. He knows she wants to go to Florida and he’s trying to keep her from leaving.”

  Anger burst inside of me.

  “Why would he lie?”

  “What else did he say?”

  I turned to Jordan. “He knows about the Red Demons, that they’re looking for a witness, said he knows who that it is. He wanted me to see if Maxwell Raith would want to get that name. He said he’d tell me to tell my dad if I’d put in a good word with Sunday to let him be a part of his kid’s life.”

  “That’s all a lie. He’s firmly involved.”

  Jordan asked Zellman, “You think this could be a weird way to try to control her? Manipulate her somehow?”

  Zellman shrugged, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the couch. He pulled his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “Who the fuck knows. Don’t know how, though.” He looked at me. “He say anything else?”

  I shook my head, then remembered. “It was weird.” I looked at Cross. “He mentioned Harper.”

  “Harper?” Jordan’s head lifted farther up.

  Cross added, “Said there’s a Harper on the prison board where he was, and knew he was from Cain. He knows Harper’s son, and wondered if we knew him.”