Crew (Crew #1)

Alex didn’t look like his cousin, or his brother either. While both of them were dark and somewhat rugged, in their own way, Alex’s hair frayed at the ends. It fell to his shoulders, but he had it pulled back today.

Race’s smirk never faltered, but a coolness came to his eyes as he looked from Jordan to Cross, then to me.

“Family emergency, cousin,” he answered. His gaze left me as he turned to Alex. “You got yourself a roommate.”

“What?” Alex straightened to his fullest height. “What happened?”

Race looked over his shoulder at everyone.

We were all listening. Not even hiding it.

“I’ll tell you later, huh?”

“Oh. Oh yeah.” Alex raked a hand through his hair. “That’s cool.” He looked at me. “Bren, I am sorry about grabbing you. I know better. I just forgot.” He glanced at Cross. “You disappeared too.”

Cross’ arm came down around my shoulders. He raised his chin. “It was a crew thing last night.”

Alex’s gaze flickered to Jordan and Zellman. A slight question lingered there.

Jordan’s eyebrows lowered as he nodded. “They had it covered.” He jerked a thumb toward Zellman on his right side. “We were free to get wasted and laid.” He held up a fist. “Thanks for that, man.”

Alex snorted, hitting it with his own fist. “Yeah. Any time. That’s why I throw those parties, so you can get laid, Pitts.”

Jordan shrugged. “Seems a good enough reason in my mind.”

Zellman started laughing. “It’s the new theme for every party now: getting Jordan laid.”

A warning bell sounded.

Most of the students began grabbing things, hurrying around us to their classes.

But not us. We stayed put.

“Anyway.” Alex touched Race’s arm and jerked his head to the side. “I gotta talk to some guys. You’ll be okay? You know where you’re going?”

“I’ll be fine.” Race’s eyes were still fixed on me, blatantly staring.

Cross’ arm tightened around my shoulder. “Can she help you with something?” It was in the tone of his voice that stopped Alex, had him turning back to look between us. There was a dangerous note in Cross’ voice, low and lethal, and it sent those same tingles flaring down my spine. He didn’t say it in an obvious way, where there was a challenge thrown down between them. Those same words spoken by anyone else might’ve come off sounding like they were insecure, or threatened. Not with Cross. Not when he spoke.

It was the opposite.

And as the new guy took in the casual way Cross stood next to me, the deliverance of those words, and the way even his cousin faltered, he knew Cross was someone not to cross. Pardon the pun.

“Guys,” Alex murmured.

Jordan jostled forward to stand in front of me.

Race dipped his head toward his cousin. “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Race’s gaze skirted from me, to Cross, to Jordan, and then he nodded again. He said in a sigh, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Alex nodded and began walking away. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

His cousin nodded. “Yeah.”

Alex left the hallway, his guys following, though quite a few glanced over their shoulders, still watching us. It wasn’t long until the rest of the hallway emptied, and it was just the four of us and Race Ryerson.

He looked around. “You guys don’t go to class or something?”

Jordan ignored that, his eyebrows arching. “We’re here because we’re crew. You?”

“What?” A question formed in Race’s dark eyes, followed by understanding. His eyes widened a bit. “That actually exists?” He looked between us, ending with me again.

“Fuck’s sake.” Even Zellman was fed up and moved to partially block me too. He was also blocking Cross, which didn’t bode well.

Cross kicked, hitting the back of Zellman’s knees. They jerked forward from reflex, and he rounded on Cross, laughing.

“Asshole.”

Cross hit him on the shoulder. “Stop standing in front of me.”

Zellman gestured to me. “I’m standing in front of her, but you know.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to piss her off at the same time.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need protection.

“You should go,” I told Race, moving around all of them.

He stared at me without answering. No blinking. Nothing. He just…stared.

Zellman growled, “Dude, move along. I don’t care what your last name is.”

A normal person would’ve scattered long ago.

But Race didn’t move. He continued to stare long and hard at Zellman, then his gaze returned to me.

As those dark eyes met mine, I felt a stirring inside. I didn’t like it.

I raised my head. “Do you have a problem with me?”

His cocky smirk came back, a soft chuckle slipping out.

The guys moved forward a step.

“Seriously, man?” Jordan glared down at him.

Still, Race didn’t cower. “You’re just like he said.”

He. I knew who he meant the second he said it. My fucking ex-boyfriend. Drake.

“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Zellman demanded.

Jordan ignored him and moved forward, almost invading Race’s personal space. “I will light you up, fucker. I don’t care if Alex is your family. We’ve told you to move along.”

Fuck this.

I stormed forward, nudging in front of Jordan so he had to step back to give me space. I got right in Race’s face. I breathed out, softly, but I wasn’t messing around. “You will stay away from me, because no matter what you think Drake told you, it was a lie.” My back stiffened. This guy was creeping under my skin. “I was with Drake for six months. He didn’t matter to me. Got that?”

Race stood above me, unmoved.

“You don’t even know what he said.”

I did. Or I thought I did, and if it was the secret Drake wasn’t supposed to know, there’d be a problem.

“I don’t care,” I shot back.

The last bell rang.

Everyone was in class, everyone except us. And year after year, crews walked into their classes together. It was a tradition, one that I was sure Mr. Neeon hadn’t thought to banish yet, but this year—for the first time since seventh grade—I went alone.





Drake knew a secret about me, a secret no one else knew.

It wasn’t like we couldn’t have secrets. I was in this with three other guys. It was ridiculous to think we all sat around in sweat lodges and shared our souls with each other. That was not what we did. It wasn’t what I did, anyway. But this was a different situation now. The new guy had let it slip that there was a secret, and I knew Cross.

Jordan and Zellman would sit back and wait. They’d be patient, because if they tried to harass me, I’d pull my knife on them. I had authority issues, and they came out when people tried to make me do something, or say something, when I didn’t want to. Putting it bluntly: they were scared of me. With reason.

Not Cross.

In every way, Cross was the exception to all the stupid rules I’d erected over the years, all the freaking walls I’d put in place. He would take a battering ram to anything between him and me, especially if he was convinced it was hurtful to me. I knew he was salivating at the chance for a go at me.

I walked alone to my first class.

That was a big fucking deal, but my head had been clouded over.

I hated the thought that Drake had told this guy something. I hated it, loathed it, it made my blood boil, and I was itching to hold my knife in my hand. I didn’t give a shit if it was unfeminine of me, or unattractive. Those people who thought labels like that would make me act differently were morons. I didn’t grow up living by other people’s standards. I would not start now. Those types of people were never there for you. They didn’t stick around after you were beaten to a bloody pulp and needed someone to call an ambulance for you. Those types were the first to scream, run, faint, or piss themselves. So no, this life was a hard one. You got tough in Roussou or you left. It was sink or swim, and yeah, the need to feel my knife in my hand so I didn’t go apeshit was a coping mechanism for me.

A girl saw me feeling my knife and didn’t blink twice at it. She turned and refocused on what the teacher was saying.