Crew Princess Read online

  I glanced at Cross beside me. As if feeling my attention, he shifted toward me and grazed my hand, sending tingles up my arm.

  I wanted to be alone with him. Right now. Forget all the bad shit in life, just him and me. That’s where it was good, where it was still right.

  “Right,” Drake snarled, raking his hand through his hair. He motioned to his crew. “Let’s go. Cops will be fucking slow here, but they’re on their way.” He left with a parting shot for Race. “I’ll say hi to your dad for you.”

  “You do that,” Race growled at his back, moving forward, his head lowered like he was going to charge.

  Taz caught his arm, keeping him with her, and we all waited until they were farther down the hill, out of earshot.

  “Race.” Cross jerked his head in the opposite direction.

  Race nodded, running a hand over his face. The bags under his eyes showed his exhaustion. Taz started to go with, but Cross shook his head. “Just him. Sorry.”

  She let go of his hand, staying put.

  Cross led the way. Race was second in line. I brought up the rear.

  Once we got to another clearing on the trail he’d picked, Cross turned around. We couldn’t wait around either, so he spoke quickly. “What was that about?”

  “Drake and me?”

  “The explosions.”

  “Oh.” Race deflated. “That was my fault. I was supposed to pass the word and forgot. It happened fast and at the last minute. I’d come up here in search of Bren when word got to us that some of the Crusties were caught in Roussou. They were trying to burn our school down.”

  “What?!” Cross and I exclaimed.

  Cross clarified, “Academy Crusties?”

  Race nodded. “Yeah, and yeah. They were caught, and they’re at the Fallen Crest police station now.”

  “Who caught them?”

  Race glanced at me, and I knew. That look said it all. I’d gotten it every day of my life.

  I stepped back. “Channing did?”

  “One of his crew.”

  I gave Race a look.

  He rolled his eyes. “What? They’re still his crew, and you know it. Anyway, some of the Friscians are wondering if they were the ones who burned their school down too.”

  “Fuck,” came low from Cross.

  “I know.”

  A new thought came to me. A sinking thought. “Who did those explosions?”

  “Who do you think?” Race motioned around. “Who sent us up here instead of coming themselves?”

  Jordan. Zellman.

  Now their absence was explained.

  And fuck.

  Race ran his hand through his hair, much like his cousin had moments ago. “Z was almost eager to do it, said he hadn’t had a lot of action for a while.” Race grinned. “Too much peace, huh? Is that a thing around here?”

  Cross snorted and shifted back on his feet. “So we’re in a town war now?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know. It was the snob school who tried to do the school thing, not Public. We can exile all Academy Crusties from the weekend events and handle them.”

  Cross nodded at Race, approving. “Look at you. Talking like a crew member.”

  Race stopped, his face reddening in the moonlight. “Yeah, well. I like certain people in Roussou.”

  After his parents’ affair came to light and the divorce was settled, Race’s mother bought a home in Fallen Crest. His dad moved to Roussou, into Alex and Drake’s childhood home to be with their mom. Their dad had moved out, and I wasn’t sure what had happened with him, but judging from Drake and Race just now, things were tense.

  We had to go. I shouldn’t ask, but… “How are you doing? With all the family stuff?”

  Race’s head dropped down. “I don’t know. We’re dealing. My mom’s still letting me attend Roussou. That’s all I care about.”

  “If things get heated, you could be a target.”

  “I know.” Race looked at Cross. “I’m driving back and forth right now—”

  “You can have my room,” Cross told him.

  I was having a moment. Right here. Because while Race’s family had been in disarray since the beginning of the year, Cross’ family had been intact. Right now, both their lives were upended by family matters, and I, for once, was doing okay. I was living in Channing’s house. And yeah, he hated that Cross was there with me, but he hadn’t put in the extra effort to cause a rift between us. He hadn’t banned Cross from staying with us, just grumbled under his breath every time he saw us.

  We tried not to let him see us.

  He kept a strict curfew for us. We had to be home at midnight. But Channing knew, I knew, Heather knew, and Cross knew, that if we were going to sneak out, we were going to sneak out. Channing couldn’t do anything about it.

  Things had been different this past week because Channing was gone a lot for his bounty-hunting business. His old crew members were around a lot more. Where Channing was, they were. If Channing was at the house, one of those guys was usually parked in the living room.

  But for once, I was the one with the steadier household.

  I didn’t have the parent drama. My dad was in prison. My mom was six feet under. I had older-brother drama, but no divorces, no break-ups. Channing and Heather were both doing well.

  Yes. I was loving this. Did that make me the good kid here?

  I thought about it.

  Nah. I was still messed up. It just wasn’t coming out currently. I’d stuffed that bitch all the way deep inside.

  Race was saying to Cross, “—be up for that?”

  Cross’ face tightened. “I don’t think my mom’s in any position to judge right now.”

  We needed to go. For real.

  Race’s head bobbed, his hands on his hips. He moved his feet apart, adjusting his stance. “I’ll talk to Taz about it, see what she thinks your mom will think.”

  “Tell her it’s for your safety, and she’ll be fine with it.” He started to walk away, but stopped. “Don’t fuck my sister in my bed. Don’t fuck my sister at all.”

  Race just smiled.

  Cross grimaced. “You dick.”

  He held his hands up. “We’ve been dating for, like, five months.”

  Cross motioned to me. “Took us nine years. Aim for that.” He patted Race on the chest, starting back down the hill.

  Race barked a laugh. “You had a head start on me. I haven’t known your sister almost all my life.”

  “Give it time. You’ll appreciate it better in nine years.”

  Cross moved ahead of us, picking up the pace.

  Race and I started after him, but I felt him trying to slow me down. I could hear people scattering farther down the hill. We needed to be there too. Then, having a feeling, I went with it and stopped suddenly.

  “If you have something you want to talk to me about, get it out fast. We should already be driving away by now.” I motioned ahead.

  Race frowned. “Listen.” He scratched his neck and tugged his collar away before letting it drop back in place. “I—uh…you’re friends with Taz, and you’re dating Cross. How do you handle that? I mean...where are the lines for you?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s just a question. I mean, if something popped up that you think the other should know—”

  “I’d tell Cross in a heartbeat.”

  He stopped, his hand still at his collar. Then he let it fall to his side. “Fuck.”

  “Why?”

  He was rubbing his forehead now.

  These were all signs of something coming down the pipeline I wouldn’t want to hear. But better to get this dealt with right away than let it simmer and fester. That was never good. I should know. That’s what I usually did.

  “Out with it, Race. What’s going on?”

  “Shit.” He drew a ragged breath. “You know their parents are divorcing.”

  “Yes…” Where was he going with this?

  He twisted
around, as if looking for an escape route. “Taz told me her mom might be moving with her, wherever she goes for college next year.”

  That topic again. The future. College and—screeching sounds. Halt. Back up.

  I blinked a couple times. “What? Say again?”

  “Taz heard her mom on the phone the other night. The divorce is going fast. Their prenup was pretty solid, and neither is really fighting it. I guess they’ve been struggling for a while. Anyway, their dad is officially moving to Fallen Crest—some girlfriend there or something—and their mom, well, she’s going with Taz wherever she goes.”

  “Oh.”

  Cross would be left in Roussou with no family. No sister. No mother. His dad was already gone.

  Race was watching me now. “Does he see his dad at all?”

  Here was the hypocritical line with me. I demanded Race tell me things he probably had no right to tell me, but now he was asking about Cross, and my loyalties always lay with him.

  I gave him a look.

  He nodded, accepting that.

  “Well…” Race jerked his head toward the path. “Not to lay that on your shoulders, but I’m guessing you’ll tell Cross?”

  He was going to be without his family.

  Echoes resounded in my head. I felt them in my chest, my heart squeezing, bringing me back to when my dad was first arrested.

  “Bren?”

  “Huh?” I looked up.

  Race had gone farther ahead. He stopped and saw I hadn’t moved. “You okay?”

  No, but I didn’t matter.

  There were fires to be put out. Literally.

  When we got to the bottom of the hill, five cars were in flames. Zellman had gone all out. Most people had scattered. We were behind the rush, so I couldn’t imagine what it had looked like when everyone hit the lot. The cops were coming, I was sure—we were lucky they weren’t there already.

  As soon as I got to the parking lot, Zellman pounded the top of Jordan’s truck. “Bren! Hurry up.”

  Cross was in the back with Zellman in the front, waving through the window. Jordan was at the wheel. They couldn’t get to me. There were too many vehicles and people in the way, so I veered around, motioning to the north end of the lot. They met me, gunning the engine and jerking to a stop right in front. I grabbed hold of the bed and jumped. Cross reached for me and hoisted me up; I was over within a second. Then we were down, all the way against the bottom. Cross wrapped his arms around me, and we braced ourselves.

  “Go!” he yelled, pounding on the side of the truck.

  A second later, we were off. Sirens colored the sky behind us, the sounds getting closer and closer. We had to go the complete opposite way we needed to, but the drive wasn’t too bad once we got out of Fallen Crest. Jordan slowed down when we hit the back roads, and Cross settled into me, nuzzling my neck. His hand smoothed over my shirt. “What’d Race have to say?”

  Shit. Should I do this now?

  I eyed him. I’d want him to tell me.

  “He told me your mom is going to move wherever Taz goes to college. And that things are serious with your dad and his girlfriend.” There was more. I couldn’t pull my punches. “And that the divorce is almost done.”

  He was quiet for a moment and then rolled to his back. He kept one arm cradling me but stared up at the sky.

  His hand rested on his chest, our bodies bouncing lightly from the gravel. “Fuck.”

  He was going to be without his family, unless…

  God. I couldn’t think that.

  ...he went with them?

  Just the thought of that hit me hard in the chest. Pain sliced through me, and I felt tears welling up. If he went with them? I was supposed to stay here. That’s how it was. Channing was here. Roussou was my home. I was ride or die, and that meant with my home too. I just knew it was not in the cards for me to move. Here, I could survive. Here, I could live. Somewhere else… That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I felt it in my gut, so if he went…

  What would I do?

  “Shit,” he cursed again.

  “Yeah.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” I felt a tear forming. It hadn’t fallen yet.

  He ran a hand over his face, rolling back to me. Seeing the tear, he reached over and flicked it away. And because he knew me, his smile was so sad.

  “I’m not going.” He leaned in, his forehead pressed against my shoulder, into my neck. He wound his arm around me and held our bodies together. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Fucking futures.

  Who needed those things?

  I felt another tear at the ready. I hated those things.

  I didn’t cry. I would bleed, but I wouldn’t leak that way. I reached for him. I needed a different way to push away my sudden blind panic, because it was threatening to run over me, crushing me in its wake.

  “Cross,” I said quietly. I fisted a hand in his shirt and pulled him.

  He lifted his head, his eyes surprised, but I know he saw my torment. His face softened. His hand came to my stomach, and he pressed a long kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I got you.”

  I mewled, needing something to drive away these feelings.

  “Shhhhhh,” he whispered, looking up to make sure Z or Jordan couldn’t see. We were too close to the back of the window. Spotting a sweatshirt, he sat up, grabbed it, and laid it over me, then his hand slid underneath.

  I grasped his arm, arching my back a little.

  “Don’t move.” He pressed another kiss to my ear. “They’ll know.”

  His hand was working as he spoke, finding my pants, undoing the top button, then moving the zipper down, just enough. He peppered kisses over my throat, and then with a groan, he pulled his mouth away. He sat up, propping himself up on his elbow, his head over me as if we were just talking.

  But his hand. That hand.

  It was inside my underwear, rubbing me, and I felt him searching for my entrance.

  I grabbed his neck, my fingers digging in, just as his slid inside of me.

  I gasped, but he dropped another kiss to my mouth, silencing me. His fingers moved in and out of me, quickly, but going deep, getting every groove. Sliding. Pulling out. Thrusting back in.

  Pleasure pulsed through me, going to my fingers and toes, up my neck, and I groaned.

  He grinned again, as he kissed me. “Shhh.”

  I bit my lip, nodding. I loved Z and Jordan like family, but I didn’t want them to have any part of this. I closed my eyes, knowing Cross would keep up the act like we were talking, all while his fingers kept moving inside of me.

  It was building.

  Spreading.

  I was close.

  More dipping in, sliding out, thrusting, holding—his thumb pressed down on my clit, and I began to come apart.

  A guttural moan left me, but I bit down harder on my lip. My eyes flew open; I needed to see Cross. He stared at me hard, fierce. His eyes gleamed with his own repressed need, and as if he couldn’t help himself, his head dipped down, his mouth firm on mine. I opened and his tongue swept in, commanding, and he finished me. Sensations ripped through me, almost before I was ready, and I trembled in the aftermath. The climax took something out of me.

  I sank down against the truck bed, but Cross’ tongue swept against mine, gentling the aftermath until I was a puddle.

  I moaned, cupping his cheek.

  When I nodded to say I was okay, he moved to hold me again. His chin tucked into my neck, and we stayed like that the rest of the drive. I felt him; he had swelled up against his jeans, and I knew he needed release too. Once we were home, I would take care of him.

  His eyes caught mine, and he smiled. He leaned in. “I’m never going to leave you. Know that.”

  Emotion clogged my throat, but I just squeezed his hand and rested my head on his chest.

  Home. I just needed to get home.

  A note was taped to my door when we got home—not the main door, my bedroom door. The lights
were off, Channing’s bedroom door was open, and no one was inside, so I wasn’t too surprised. I took the note off and read it aloud, “No fucking. Stay home. Shit went down tonight, and I want you safe.”

  Cross read it over my shoulder, a light chuckle warming my shoulder. “That’s cute. Treating us like we’re normal teenagers.”

  He swept past me, going into the room and dropping his bag on the floor. He touched my arm, his finger sliding down as he passed me on the way back out to the kitchen. “I’m hungry. You?”

  “No.”

  After a moment, he opened the fridge, and I heard him rummaging around. As he moved around the kitchen, I read the note again. Channing knew about the Academy Crusties. One of his crew found them, so either Channing was at the station doing what he could to keep peace between the towns or he was at work. Oh hell. I didn’t know where he was. There was a handful of places he could be, so I just pulled my phone out.

  I heard loud sounds behind him when he answered, “Tell me you’re home. You’re both home.”

  “We’re home.”

  “You and Cross?”

  There was shouting behind him. I couldn’t make out the words.

  I frowned. “Where are you?”

  “What?!” his voice came through loud.

  I’d started to repeat myself when he spoke over me, still just as loud, “Yeah. I know. I’m talking to my sister. Give me a minute.” He came back to me, “Give me a second.” A moment later, the shouting faded, and I heard a door shut. “I’m at the warehouse.”

  The warehouse was technically his—a building set on a bunch of acreage outside of Roussou—but his crew used it to hang out.

  “Why are you there?”

  “Because some fucking high school idiots tried to burn your school today, and I know how this shit starts,” he griped. “I was a part of it in my day, and I don’t want bloody streets, people saying they’re going to rape somebody, and exploding fucking cars, which I’m just now hearing happened at the District Weekend bonfire.” He stopped, breathing hard. “Was that you guys?”

  Cross came out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he folded his arms over his chest. I didn’t even need to put Channing on speaker. I knew Cross could hear him plain as day.