Crossover: Franchise Mtg. Read online

“Yeah. He’s her cousin, and he hates her.”

  “My cousin too, Eli.” The guy who sat between Luke and Bri chuckled. “But he loves me.”

  The bald-headed guy, who had been scowling at Bri, chuckled. He nodded. “Yep. It’s true. I love Braden.” He told the rest of the table, “Bri and Braden are twins. And even though she was screwing my best friend for three years, she’s head over heels for Luke. They’re both nuts. All of them are wacko.”

  “Shut up, Emerson,” Bri snapped. Her head jerked back up, and she glared at her cousin. As she spoke, her hand reached for her fork. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped it hard. “I swear, if you don’t stop spewing your hatred, I’m going to stop you myself.”

  “Oh yeah?” he taunted her. “How are you going to do that?”

  It happened in a flash. Her eyes went flat. A deadly calm settled over her, and her hand bent, moving in a blink of an eye.

  Her fork went straight for his face.

  Her hand was caught.

  Luke had lunged over Braden, and grabbed Bri’s hand, right before the fork would’ve stabbed her cousin.

  For a moment, everyone was silent as they realized what almost happened. Emerson blinked a few times, seeing the fork right in front of him, then he stumbled backwards and exclaimed, “Holy shit, Brielle!”

  She surged to her feet, standing to face him with her hands in fists at her side. “I told you to stop fucking around with me. Keep doing it and we’re going to have problems.”

  He watched her warily, but the glower remained on his face.

  Luke stood, tapped Braden’s shoulder, gestured to his seat, and said, “I’m thinking we should switch the seating around.” He touched Bri’s shoulder. “I’ll sit in Bri’s chair. She can take Braden’s and Braden—”

  Braden hopped down a seat. “I’m good. Me and the pro-vampire athlete will become friends. Right? Your name is Gavin?”

  “Yeah. Hello.”

  The two shook hands and Braden beamed back at Luke. “See. We’re besties already.”

  “Okay. Crisis averted.” Luke gently pushed Brielle into her new seat, then snapped his fingers at Emerson’s chair. “Sit.”

  Emerson rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his head. “What the fuck, man?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it. Sit down and be polite.”

  With a jerking motion, Emerson bent down, grabbed his chair, and righted it back up. He sat down but sent a withering look at Brielle. Luke stepped forward, blocking his view. Emerson’s eyes lifted. Luke warned softly, “What did I just tell you?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Emerson plopped down and turned so he was facing straight ahead.

  Elijah laughed softly, watching the entire thing. He hadn’t moved from his seat.

  Luke narrowed his eyes at him. “Thanks for helping.”

  Elijah shrugged. “What are you talking about? That was free entertainment.”

  Luke shook his head and sat down. He looked towards the chef and said, “We’re good.”

  “Ah, thank you.” The chef nodded, then said to the whole table, “These guys are going to be playing for us later on.”

  “WOHOO! I CALL DIBS FOR KARAOKE,” an older woman yelled from in the kitchen. “I’VE GOT TO FINISH THESE DAMN MASHED POTATOES FIRST. HI, RAYNA!”

  Rayna groaned. “You said band. Now there’s no stopping her.”

  “Okay. Enough. I have to introduce the new franchise before the timer goes off for the rest of the food.”

  “Why are we eating cake first? Isn’t dessert last?”

  “Hush. Let her finish, then we get free food and booze. Who delays that??”

  “Oh right.”

  The chef frowned and waited until the comments stopped. Then she cleared her throat and held her hand out towards the hallway entrance again. “May I introduce…” Her hand fell back down to her side.

  There was no one there.

  “Oh, bugger.” She tapped on her chin. “Where did they go?” Moving away from the table, she called out, “Jax? Dale? Anyone there?”

  A muffled shout came from further down the hallway, “We’re here!”

  A second shout. “We’re coming!”

  “Oh, dear. Okay.” The chef coughed, clearing her throat. “Maybe while we wait, we can—”

  “Here!” A girl burst from the hallway. Panting, she stopped and bent over, her hands resting on her knees.

  A guy strolled in behind her, lazily grinning, as he ran a hand through his blonde spiked hair. Wearing a sleeveless shirt, he flashed a grin at the group. With smirking eyes, a rough manly jaw, and a face that had some girls sucking in their breaths, he patted the girl beside him on the back. He teased, “We need to do a few more rounds in the bed, Doily. We can build up your stamina.”

  Growling, she knocked his hand off, but there was a mirrored glint in her eye. It relayed that their banter was a normal occasion. Then she shot back, “As if. You may be some underground fighting champion, but we both know who got who to pant first last night.”

  His grin turned wicked. As he moved closer, a transformation came over him. He went from joking to seductive. His eyes narrowed, and he murmured, “That’s not what I remember.” He moved his head to the side. “Maybe we should have a repeat? Freshen up my memory? What to do you say, Doily?”

  Her cheeks were already warm from running, but she seemed to grow more flustered. Fanning herself, she rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Back up a step, stud muffin. We’ll figure out who can make who pant later on. We’ve got an audience now.” Then she gritted her teeth. “And stop calling me Doily,” she dropped her voice, “at least in public. I’m Dale.”

  “Technically, you’re Delia. Doily is my pet name for you—”

  She swatted at his chest, and he sucked in his breath, a wicked grin coming back to his face. He caught her hand, and as everyone watched, he turned so his eyes were only on her. When he shifted, facing her squarely, they could see that his body was a map of muscles through his shirt. He could’ve been used as an anatomy model, showcasing each muscle. He also had a tattoo, words that swept across his side, wrapped around his body.

  “Okay. Yes.” The chef snapped her fingers. “Here’s the new group. This is Dale and Jaxon, although there’s more of them. Dale, where’s your brothers? And Hailey?”

  A girl with sleek dark hair, dark eyes, and pouty lips, that quite a few of the guys around the table were enamored with, rolled her eyes. Her hand rested on her slim hip. “I’m pretty sure my best friend and brother didn’t really have to run that ‘errand’,” she used her fingers to make air quotes, “like they said they did. They’ll show up, all hot and bothered, pretty soon.”

  “The rest of your brothers?”

  “The rest of the nine?” She shrugged. “No clue, but I’m sure Dean made them go with him to chase a bail jumper. He said we’re more the franchise people so we’re here to represent.” She scanned the entire table and her lips pressed together. “Whoa. There’s a lot of people here. Everyone’s a bounty hunter?”

  “Ah.” The chef continued to frown. “No. You guys are the only bounty hunters.”

  The guy rolled his shoulders back and smirked. “Speak for yourself. I’m the bail jumper.”

  A different thought occurred to the girl. “If they’re not bounty hunters, are they criminals?”

  “No, no.” The chef shook her head. “That’s not what the franchise is about.”

  “Oh.” Then her eyes saw the cake and lit up. “You have cake? I love cake.”

  “Not as much as she loves me—”

  She swatted the back of her hand to his chest again and strode forward.

  “Oomph.”

  She ignored him and started scanning the table. “You got any cake left? Here.” She grabbed a chair from the wall and waved at Logan. “Can you scoot down? We can make room.”

  A second chair was brought over by a staff member. He handed it to Jax, who was eyeing the guy Dale had sat down next to. Both guys s
tared at the other. Dale was impervious. A piece of cake was brought over and she dug in. “Man. This is delicious. We don’t get food like this at home. My brother buys the cheap gas station cakes.” She cringed. “No offense to gas stations across the country, but they really need to clean out their bakery sometimes. I once had a piece that could bounce off the cement. My other brother, Dylan, and I used that cake to draw a big penis on my older brother’s parking spot. He wasn’t too happy when he saw it.”

  Jax was still staring at Logan, beside Dale, and he finally asked, “Are we going to have a problem?”

  Logan was scrutinizing him. He remembered the girl saying this guy was an underground fighting champion, but damn, the chick was hot. He and Kris were on the outs… Then he could feel Sam’s anxiety from his other side. He knew what she was thinking. He would take on the guy, but the girl would probably jump in. She seemed like a fighter herself and that would mean Sam would have to represent. He knew Sam was doing the math. This girl, even though she looked clueless half the time, she wasn’t. She was a bounty hunter. She could handle herself.

  The girl is his, anyway, Logan told himself. He shook his head. “Nah, man. Your name is Jax, huh?”

  “Yeah.” The guy sat down, folding himself into the seat in a way that showed off his athleticism. He wasn’t scared either. He was just watchful. Like the girl, Logan realized, this guy liked to portray a ‘clueless’ attitude too, but he wasn’t. He knew good and well his girl was a keeper.

  Logan grinned at him. “Another time. Another day, I’d try my hand.”

  They were still talking about the girl, Dale, but she was still distracted.

  She noticed that Jax hadn’t touched his plate. “If you’re not eating it, I will.” She didn’t wait for a response. She dug in, then paused. The fork was mid-air to her mouth before she noticed the looks between the two guys.

  “Oh.” She lowered the fork back down, then did her own assessment of Logan.

  He turned his stare so it was smack dab on her, and he had the beginning of a cocky grin starting at the corner of his mouth.

  The girl didn’t blink. She wasn’t fazed. She only shook her head and went back to the cake. “Not a chance, buddy. I have my hands full enough with this one.” She pointed her fork at Jaxon.

  Logan couldn’t hold back his laughter. He liked her. He really liked her. Then he sighed. He hoped his girl, whoever she was, would be like this one. He nodded to the guy, repeating, “So your name is Jax, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  Logan winked at Sam before saying, “We have a Jax too.”

  “Logan,” Sam started, a warning tone in her voice.

  He tuned her out, “Can I hook the two of you up? You’d make a great couple. Heather wouldn’t have to change her name then. Jax and Jax. It’s like the title of a book. I can see it now. New York Times bestseller.”

  As he said that, the tone around the table shifted. It was an insult, but to be honest, Logan was bored. He wanted something to happen. He wasn’t interested in learning new names and new faces. Besides Hunt, he doubted he’d see these people, or things, as he remembered the vampires and whatever that other girl was, again. But these two—he didn’t know why he threw out the diss. Maybe he was testing the waters, maybe he wanted to see what these two were actually made of, or maybe it was because he kind of liked these two. For whatever reason, he said those words and then waited.

  Fireworks would happen. He just hoped to guard himself when the fighter exploded from the chair.

  The guy only grinned back at him.

  Logan frowned. That’s not what he’d been expecting.

  The guy, Jaxon, shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t think you know what you just did.”

  Logan’s frown deepened—then he was hit across the side of the face.

  “What?” he started to say, more surprised than in pain by the hit. He saw the girl in his face. She stood over him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, wearing a menacing glare on her face. “Whoa.”

  She stood up, lifting him out of his chair. He was right. She was a lot ‘more’ than she let on, and holy shit, this girl was strong. He looked down at her and asked, “Where the hell are your muscles?”

  “You’re going to set up my guy with another girl?” Her eyes sparked. She was down for a fight. “And you’re going to do it in front of me?”

  Logan was in love. A wistful little smile started to appear on his face. He said, “Do you have a sister?”

  “No, dumbass.” She threw him down to the floor. “But I have nine brothers.” And with those last words, she brought down her fist.

  *

  Shane watched from the loft above the room. As the girl punched the guy, another girl and guy joined the fight. Then more and more. Half the table was embroiled in the fight while others stood up and left the room.

  Whatever this meeting had been for, it was over.

  She had left her sanctuary to come here. The chef had sent her an email, asking for her attendance, and she owed the chef a lot. The people didn’t realize it, but the chef wasn’t really a chef. She was more. She was the future of the franchise. She had shared her plans with Shane in that email, but it was pointless now.

  Shane turned to go. She had been gone for too long. There were things to do, people to check in with, armies to lead again.

  She pressed her lips together.

  There were people to kill.

  A staff member came into the loft, but drew up short, seeing her. He asked, “Who are you?”

  She walked past him and said, “I was the original.”

  To read more of these characters, please go to www.tijansbooks.com

  BONUS MATERIAL

  Extra scenes that I have written for a few of my books are below. The bonus scenes are from the Fallen Crest Series, the Broken and Screwed Series, and also Carter Reed. These scenes are not a part of the series. They are an extra gift to readers as well.

  CARTER REED THANKSGIVING

  ***Timeline: Set between Carter Reed and Carter Reed 2***

  “The guys are making the turkey.” Theresa swept into my bedroom with her eyebrows raised high and a hand pressed to her chest. “This cannot be good. I don’t know if Noah can cook a turkey. He never has. His mom always makes the food. I’ve always spent Thanksgiving with Noah and his family.”

  Amanda was right behind her. She grinned and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. I tried not to take Theresa’s words to heart, but it was hard. “I’m sorry. Carter asked me what I wanted for Thanksgiving and this is what I said. You guys, our new family. I didn’t think how it might be interrupting your other plans.”

  “I—” Theresa stopped. She gaped at me and then her shoulders fell down in a sudden swoop. “I’m a selfish twat, aren’t I? I didn’t even think.” She turned and grabbed Amanda’s hand, pulling her over so all three of us were holding hands. “You guys are my new family. I am so sorry, Emma. No wonder Noah got all huffy and stormed out after he suggested that we head here today and go to his family’s for lunch tomorrow instead of being there today. I might’ve thrown a fit.” She offered me up an apologetic half-grin. “Ever since my parents died, it’s always been at Noah’s family’s house on Thanksgiving Day in the afternoon. We start then, cook all day, snack for lunch, and then there’s this grandiose dinner in the evening.” Her tone turned wistful. “It always made me forget about my own parents for a while. I think they went over the top because of that, you know, to distract me.”

  “It sounds wonderful.”

  Amanda frowned at me. She had heard the envious tone in my voice, and I flushed. Carter was my family. So was Amanda, and even Theresa and Noah, but I missed my brother, especially on the holidays.

  “Are you thinking of Mallory?”

  I blinked a few times, my thoughts with my brother, but Amanda’s question brought a new pang of remorse to me. I gave her a rueful grin. “I am now. Her and her baby.”

  Stepping in closer, Amanda re
ached out and laid her arm around my shoulders. Then Theresa followed her. As all three of us hugged, Amanda said, “We’ll do her memory well, Emma.”

  Theresa snorted. “I think I have an entire bottle of wine I’ll dedicate to Mallory.”

  We all laughed then. I shook my head, but the idea of all three of us drinking a bottle of wine in memory of Mallory and getting wasted had some merit. I let out a sigh. “I think that’s a tradition Mallory would’ve joined in with.”

  Amanda laughed. “Mallory would’ve bought the wine herself.”

  “After she broke up with her latest boyfriend that morning.”

  Another burst of laughter from Amanda. She tipped her head back, grinning. “You’re right. My word, you’re so right.” The chuckles faded and she sniffled, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “I miss her. I feel dumb saying this, but I missed the stupid dynamic the four of us had.”

  “Yeah.” Times had been simple back then. Work. Consoling Mallory after one of her many break-ups. Curling up on the couch and watch movies with Amanda. Ben would scowl, bark at us, then grumble as he finished the cooking. “Ben was such an asshole.”

  Amanda dissolved back into laughter, shaking her head. She stepped back from our hug and used the back of both her hands to wipe over her face. “Man.” She let out a pent-up breath, wiping at the corner of her eyes now. “I feel so dumb, but I do. I miss the group.” The tears kept cascading down, and she gave us both a watery grin. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I love you guys. That was a fun family, but this, between us now, this is a family I only could’ve imagined getting.” Her face wrinkled up and she whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Oh.” Theresa grabbed her and pulled her close. Both of them were hugging, rocking back and forth, and Theresa’s tears weren’t far behind.

  Watching them, I felt my own tears well up. Amanda was right. This was a family I only could’ve imagined. And, as if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Carter came to the doorway. He took in the sight of Theresa and Amanda hugging, then lifted an eyebrow at me.

  I shrugged, grinning like an idiot at him.