by Tijan
“Maybe.” Cross grabbed two beers and brought one over, sitting down next to me. “They have a big family, and douchebag seems to be in the genes. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“We’re not going to know until whoever it is makes his presence known. So…” Jordan put his drink on the table and focused on me. Or, no—he focused on Cross and me. “Let’s talk rules. This has been put off for too long. You two broke ours.”
Zellman broke out in a wide smile. “Yeah. No couples in crews.”
“That’s our rule, but it’s not like we planned this.” Cross put his beer on the table as well, taking point for us.
I was glad.
All the talking I’d done over the last couple months had tired me out. There’d been the whole professing at Durrant’s house, then the police questions, my brother’s own interrogation of me, Heather had her questions too. After that, once we went back to school, there was the community service. Taz had been out of school recovering, so I was stuck with Tabatha, Sunday, Monica, and all of their friends. Plus The Badger—for the committee and our counseling sessions, and I just started those.
I could go mute for the next six years to break even.
“Come on, Cross!” Jordan rolled his eyes.
“You come on.” Cross pointed at him. “We put that rule in place to save ourselves from stupid drama, and it wasn’t needed. We were in seventh grade, and be honest, you put it in place because you didn’t want Bren and me kissing even back then. You wanted to be the one to kiss her.”
“Wha—what?!” I surged to my feet.
Jordan’s neck was getting red. He clenched his jaw, stiffening. “It’s not like that. It wasn’t like that, Bren.”
Z shot his hand in the air, still grinning. “I always wanted to make out with you, B.”
Well, that was… Okay then. I sat back down, still frowning. “Thanks?”
“But not anymore,” Zellman added. “You’re like my sister now. Crew family. But no lie, I’m hoping to see your tits someday. And it’s probably going to happen, since we all scrap.”
That was Zellman’s new word for fighting. Scrapping. He thought it sounded better, less violent. Why he’d decided that, I’d never know. But we went with it.
“Fine,” Jordan said. “I was young too, and I was stupid, and yes. Cross is right. I suggested that rule because I didn’t want you and Cross to date, but even after I stopped caring, I thought it was a good rule. I still think it’s a good idea.”
I looked to the ceiling.
Cross groaned next to me.
Jordan spoke over us, raising his voice. “But I can see how serious you guys are, and I think it’s a rule that’s going to have an exception. The only crew couple we can have in this crew is Cross and Bren.”
I wasn’t the only one who snorted.
There were no other girls, and all the guys were straight. I had no intention of dating either of those two, but as far as Jordan, it was a win. He was conceding.
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded, a smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m fully aware you guys wouldn’t have given a shit if we didn’t make this amendment, but it means a lot that you’re pretending to care.”
“I want our crew to officially be a democracy,” Cross added. “No more leader shit.”
Jordan rolled his eyes this time. “Yeah, right. Things will get heated again. You’ll take over, because you’re better at that stuff than me, and when things loosen up, I’ll step up like I’m doing right now. Let’s call a spade a spade. We all know that’s how it’ll be.” He picked up his beer, standing. Gesturing to Zellman and me, he added, “Bren will go rogue, start shit when she gets mad. Z will keep trying to get Sunday’s pussy even though he does every other day—”
“And it’s so good.” Z moaned, closing his eyes and slumping back on the couch. “So warm and tight.”
“—and that’s how we’re going to keep going.” Jordan ignored Z. We all ignored Z. “Stand up, Wolf Crew, and beers up.”
We stood, clinking our beers together and raising them, all pressed together.
Jordan’s voice grew rough. He blinked a few times. “I wouldn’t change our crew for anything. Never fucking change.”
Z piped up, “On three! One, two—”
We all finished together, “Wolf Crew!”
Taz sat on Race’s lap in the middle of a field party—which was actually more of a woods party since we were in a clearing smack in the middle of a forest.
Alex remained away, going to a second and more intensive treatment facility after the first. The cynical side of me wondered if it was done at his lawyer’s urging, as it would show “good faith” that he was trying to rehabilitate himself. The case against him for assaulting Taz hadn’t gone before the judge yet for sentencing.
“And I told Tab it was a bad idea to date college guys. It’s never going to work.” Taz looped her arms around Race’s neck, leaning back and looking up at him.
It wasn’t even a subtle smile from girlfriend to boyfriend. It was a full beam. The girl was stupid in love. I shook my head, catching the pressed lips from the other girls sitting around Jordan’s truck.
Yes. I’m as shocked as anyone, but somehow, Sunday, and even Monica had worn me down so I didn’t immediately turn away when they approached.
But a few minutes was the longest I could last.
Taz was creating a target on herself, because while she might be happy and content, those girls weren’t. After Cross, the next guy on the totem pole was Race, and they liked him. They liked him even more now than they had before. He was wealthy and still in Roussou, so those girls were plotting to break up the two of them.
“So, Bren—” Sunday began.
Nope. I was out. I recognized that smile on her face. She shared a look with Monica, who had been doing a whole lot of that with Cross over the last month.
Looking. Staring. Drooling.
Cross was the same, acting like he never saw it. If a girl stopped him, he kept moving.
But those girls didn’t care about the hints. It was the same shit that had been going on at the beginning of the year. They were more and more hungry for him.
When it had come out that we were together, people stepped back. But it didn’t last long. Some of that was because of us. Some was because of them.
We liked to keep things under wraps in public. Taz was on strict instructions to keep her mouth shut, and Race too. No one else would talk because the only other people on the up-and-up were Jordan and Z. But because Cross and I didn’t act much different than we had before, the whispering had increased the last few weeks.
People were confused, wondering if maybe we weren’t a couple. They wanted Cross to be single, so they were starting to buzz about it.
Cross was at this party, but he wasn’t at my side. Only Jordan sat in this circle with me, right beside me. Z was off trying to get in someone else’s pants because this was the “off” night or day or week, or whatever was happening between him and Sunday.
When she opened her mouth to ask me whatever she was going to ask, I decided not to stick around to see if she was asking for Monica, or for herself, or hell—for most of the female population at our school.
I stood, not giving a shit if that was rude, and tossed back the rest of my beer. It was my third, and I had a nice buzz going.
“I’m out.” I looked at Taz and Race, then met Jordan’s eyes.
He raised his eyebrows, a silent question if I’d come back.
I dipped my head, just the smallest of movements, but it was enough.
He settled back.
I had to come back. The new Ryerson leader was rumored to be showing up tonight. I almost laughed hearing a few guys speculating whether it was a girl, because it wasn’t just our crew who was curious. Everyone was. But thinking back over the Ryerson family, there were only a couple cousins I thought could step up to the plate, but I didn’t think they would. One was either in medical school or plannin
g on attending. Another was in a state softball league for her high school. And there was a third, but I didn’t know much about her. She lived up north. I’d met her once when she came down for a Ryerson family reunion, but it’d been brief. Alex’s mom had said at the time that she was smart and driven.
Maybe her?
I had no idea.
The only thing I did have an idea about was getting some time with Cross, and I wanted him alone.
The rumors were starting to bother me, even though I told myself they shouldn’t. But still, a girl could only hear so much about everyone’s hopes and dreams of dating Cross before her claws came out.
And mine were sharp. I hadn’t fought in a while, possibly too long.
I wandered around the party. Many watched me go past, falling silent. A few tried to draw me in for a conversation. I ignored all of them. They weren’t as scared of me as before. Enough time had passed since they’d seen a fight break out, or sorry, Z—a scrap break out. That meant I hadn’t been flashing my knife around.
I was following a path that led away from everyone when I heard Cross behind me.
“Looking for me?” He fell in step, glancing over his shoulder.
Only a couple people had seen us go. One guy nudged his buddy, and they started snickering.
I rotated swiftly and flicked both my middle fingers at them.
They shut up.
Cross was shaking his head, trying not to laugh.
“Shut it.” I smacked his chest with the back of my hand.
He caught it, and I laced my fingers with his.
“God.” He pulled me to him, dropping a kiss to my neck, running his free hand down my back. “You have no idea how hard it is to stay away sometimes.”
The girlfriend in me melted. The best friend couldn’t help but tease. “Weak sauce.”
He barked a laugh, his lips nipping my shoulder, and his hands slipped inside my jeans. When they kept going, I moved to him, bringing us into perfect alignment. I lifted my mouth, and there he was.
His lips covered mine, opening and taking control.
A shiver ran down my spine, making my entire body tremble.
He grabbed a fistful of my ass before slipping around to the front. He pushed his hand in, not caring that my jeans weren’t unbuckled, and I had a second’s notice before he thrust two fingers inside of me.
“Fuck.” I moaned.
Cross let go of my hand and banded his arm around my back. He pulled me off the trail, but we weren’t far enough from the party. We could still hear their laughter, so groaning, he stepped away and tugged me ahead.
We moved farther off the path. Once we stopped hearing them, he pressed me up against a tree.
It was like we’d never touched each other. It was like he hadn’t been moving inside me just this morning, but it didn’t matter.
Fuck. This guy.
I would always hunger for him, now that I’d gotten a taste.
“I want you. Now.” He panted against my mouth, unbuckling my jeans. His fingers pushed my underwear aside and were back in me, rotating, rolling, thrusting.
I fell back against the tree, my neck exposed, and his mouth latched there.
He was licking, tasting, taking what was his.
Everything in me shuddered. Pleasure coursed through me, electrifying me all the way to my toes.
He pulled out a condom, and then he was sliding inside of me.
I clamped onto him, winding my legs around his waist, and I moved my hips in rhythm.
It was hard, fast, and rough. It was a quickie snack, a fucking appetizer because when we were done, there was a rush inside of me. I knew this had been the foreplay for a long night before us.
“You’re going to kill me one day.” Cross groaned as he pulled out, his mouth dropping to mine.
I ran a hand down his back, savoring how he trembled under my touch. Even now. Even after we were done.
“I love you.”
He pressed a hard kiss to my mouth. “I love you too.”
He held me, standing against me as I lowered my legs to the ground. Still holding on with one hand, we adjusted our clothing back into place. I caught a whiff of hand sanitizer, and I didn’t ask what he’d done with the condom.
After we were both breathing evenly again, we started back.
Cross put his arm around my shoulder, tucking me next to him. I held his hand in mine, and for a moment, we were lost in each other.
That lasted until we drew closer, near enough to hear someone calling, “Where are Bren and Cross?”
I stopped, my feet gluing in place.
No.
I recognized that voice, but it couldn’t be right.
Cross’ arm fell from my shoulder. He stepped forward. “Is that…?” He looked back at me.
He saw it was. It was written all over my face.
He swore, raking a hand through his hair. “You didn’t know?”
“How would I?”
He wasn’t the only one reeling. I was sucker-punched in the diaphragm.
I didn’t want him here. Ever. But especially not now, not after I was with Cross, not after we’d just had a moment. I didn’t want any of that shattered, and if I knew this guy, he’d sniff it out like a bloodhound.
“—until they get back. I have an announcement to make.”
We had to go. I wasn’t going to hide from this, whatever it was.
Jordan and Zellman were positioned just down our path, a few yards past the larger group. They knew we’d gone this way. They knew we’d return this way. As if sensing us, Jordan looked back. Z too.
Each of them wore a blank expression, but I could see their surprise. They were as shocked as us, just guarded.
“I know the Ryerson crew has only had a leader who’s in high school—”
The crowd shifted.
When people saw us, they moved, opening an entire section of the ring so we had front row seats to the person standing in front. His arms were up, as if he were holding court or giving a sermon.
With his back to a truck’s headlights, his crew lined up behind him like a backdrop, stood a Ryerson I hoped I’d never see again.
Drake Ryerson.
Alex’s brother, and my ex. The same guy who’d quit, lived with Race for a summer, and talked all about how he hated the crew system. The same guy who’d wanted to mess with us by telling Race to push for a friendship with us. The same guy who knew we wouldn’t take to that.
He still looked like Race, with the same round face, but he seemed to have aged. His face was scruffy, and he was more built, as if he’d been lifting weights in his time away. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A sneer I used to think was attractive, mixed with a twinkle in his eye, and a dimple in his cheek that he used as a weapon.
He was an asinine fucker. That’s what he was.
He turned, mid-speech, and his eyes locked on mine. “I was approached earlier in the year by a member of Monroe’s crew, and I thought long and hard about it. After finding out what my little brother had been up to, and how my cousin was now here but not joining, I decided to make an executive decision.” He paused, a grin pulling at the corner of his lip. He finished as if he were speaking just to me. “I’m coming back, and I’m taking my old position. I’m taking over the Ryerson crew again. They’re no longer without a leader.”
Half the group was watching me instead of him.
He knew it, adding after a beat, “Hey, Bren.”
He stepped toward us, but faltered when Jordan and Zellman closed ranks so they were standing in front of me.
Chuckling, he walked over.
The show was over. It was like he’d dropped an invisible cue, and everyone began talking at once. Or most did. The few who had eyes on us and were within hearing distance, tried to edge closer. A couple girls strained their necks. Some of the guy Normals were watching too, sipping their beers as if they weren’t gawking like the rest.
He stopped right in front of Jordan and Z. “I’m not jus
t here for her, you know. I’m here for all of you.”
Jordan folded his arms over his chest. Z dropped his head lower, ready to fight.
“Cross.”
Cross ignored that greeting from Drake, watching me instead. His hand touched mine, and he lowered his voice. “What do you want to do?”
“I come in peace,” Drake said. “I have a gift for your crew. Your entire crew.”
I hated it, but we had to hear him out.
Cross cleared his throat.
Jordan and Zellman shifted, presenting Cross to my ex.
Drake latched onto that movement, his gaze jumping from Cross to me and back again, then dropping and lingering on the hand that still brushed against mine. I felt singed, but Cross didn’t move.
“What do you want, Drake?” Cross asked.
Drake flicked his eyes to Jordan, noting the change, but nodded. “Okay. Things have changed around here.” Before anyone could respond—or growl in my case—he smiled the most fake smile I’d ever seen on his face. Then it was gone, along with any polite pretense. He stepped closer, right between Jordan and Z, and all amusement left his tone.
“I’m back for my crew, and to take care of my family.” He looked over at me. “I don’t need to tell any of you that, but I am, as a sign of good faith. I know my brother messed things up, and as a further sign of good faith, I left a present for you at the top of that cliff you guys love so much. It’s there just for you, just to show you things will be different under my leadership. I hope you all appreciate it.”
He looked at each of us in turn. He was wrapping this in a nice shiny paper, as if he truly meant what he was saying.
I grunted. “We’ll see.”
His eyes found mine and lingered. “Yes. You will.” He stepped back. “Text me when you get there,” he told Cross. “I have one more thing to add.”
It took us ten minutes.
When we pulled up, Jordan’s truck was first, pausing at the mouth of the clearing before pulling over and parking. Cross’ truck lights lit the way, and we could see Drake’s present.
“What the fuck?”
Cross texted Drake.
His phone buzzed back, almost right away.
