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Crossover: Franchise Mtg. Page 5


  Carter was my family. He would always be my family from now on, and for that—for the return of him back into my life—I was eternally thankful for.

  I mouthed to him, “I love you.”

  He mouthed back, “I love you more.”

  CARTER REED 2 BONUS SCENE

  They hurt her.

  That wouldn’t happen again. No matter where. No matter who. If they touched one hair on Emma’s body, I would kill them. I made the promise to myself when AJ died, and the feeling only grew stronger with each day.

  The elevator pinged my arrival, and as the doors slid open, I saw her. She was sleeping on the ground. A blanket was laid over her and her head was tucked to the side. Her hand was under her cheek, acting as an impromptu pillow. She looked at peace, but then I saw the blood streak that ran down the side of her cheek.

  Rage like I hadn’t felt in a long time went through me. They would pay and I would be the one to do it.

  “Carter.”

  I didn’t look to the side, but I knew Cole’s voice. I said to him, “You got her out.”

  “I did.”

  “The men who attacked her?”

  I didn’t say any more. I didn’t need to. Cole understood. He replied, “They’re dead.”

  But there were more. There were the ones who had ordered the attack. I turned to him and our eyes met. Cole had gotten out of the lifestyle but he was back and certain decisions had to go through him before they could be followed out. I knew what I was going to do and technically he had to approve it. A shared look of understanding passed between us. He already knew what I was going to do, just like I knew that I was going to do it whether he approved it or not; however, formalities existed for a reason but I wasn’t going to waste any more time.

  “I saved your life years ago.”

  He nodded. “You did.”

  “And I know you were trying to save mine.”

  He nodded again. “I thought you’d be safe if you didn’t come back into this. We’re at war. You didn’t need to be pulled back in. You bought your way out.”

  I looked back at Emma. They came after her. I wasn’t out. I had never been out.

  I turned back to him. “I’m going to kill them all.”

  “I know.”

  With that exchange, it was done; nothing more needed to be said. I went to Emma, bent down, and lifted her into my arms. I held her the entire ride home. She didn’t stir once and after I settled her into bed, she still didn’t make a move. She needed her rest. She needed to heal.

  Gazing down at her, I felt torn. My gun was next to her on the nightstand. I felt it beckoning to me. I could go now, before they had time to regroup. I’d get more of them then, but the need to hold her was clawing inside me so I slid under the covers and moved behind her. Pulling her back into my arms, I just held her for the rest of the night.

  I would start tomorrow.

  BROKEN AND SCREWED

  ***Timeline: Set after Broken and Screwed 2***

  When I got back from work, the house was dark. Jesse had texted, saying everyone went to a party. As I went inside, dropped my books, and headed upstairs to grab a bottle of water, I almost screamed when I glanced into the living room.

  “Oh my god, Tiffany.” With my heart was in my throat, I gasped, grinning at the shock. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  She barely gave me a look, staring out the window.

  I narrowed my eyes. It was dark. Tiffany was sitting alone in the living room and she hardly reacted. Something wasn’t right. Then I took a small breath. We weren’t friends, not really, but there was a respect between us. I didn’t understand it, but I knew she felt the same. We had remained distant while we both lived in the same home.

  My dilemma was what to do. It would be easy to leave. She wasn’t asking for anything. I could downstairs, change, and head to the party. It would be easy to tell Hannah her sister was moping at home or even Jamie. Since his ex-girlfriend had officially moved into the house, he’d been panting after her like a dog in heat. He had hated having her there at first, but that changed the first night. Everyone in the house heard the soft knocking on her door. No one slept through that, especially after she opened the door, threw a glass of water on him, and slammed it in his face.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  I asked, “What?”

  “This.” She gestured to me. “Whatever you’re doing or thinking. You don’t have to.”

  I went and sank into the other couch, drawing my knees to my chest and propped my chin on top of them. I wasn’t going to insult her and play dumb. “What’s your problem?”

  Her lips curved up in a slight smile, but she turned back for the window. “I have to tell my sister something tonight, and I have no idea how to do it.”

  “Opening your mouth and saying the words would do it.”

  She closed her eyes, the same grin appeared, but it was gone the next second. She looked sad. That realization hit me and I held my breath. This wasn’t something trivial. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I knew it. Tiffany wasn’t dramatic. She was a bitch, but she was never dramatic.

  I murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “In some ways, I’m glad that you’re the one who came home first. I can say anything to you and I don’t have to deal with you kissing my ass. You’ll be straight with me.” She laughed to herself, a soft chuckle. “I was so jealous of you. You have no idea.”

  Okay. We were going down memory lane. I grabbed a pillow for my lap and settled back. She didn’t want to say it, whatever was wrong, so we were going the round-about way. I frowned to myself. I hadn’t expected that from Tiffany. I thought she would’ve blurted it out, whatever it was, instead of warming up to it.

  “I wanted Jesse since last year. I was with Jamie, but Jesse was the prize for me. And I almost had him,” she flashed me a smile, her eyes haunted at the same time, “or I thought I did. Nothing worked. Fast forward a year, here you come. I hated you on sight because I took one look at him when he was looking at you, and I knew it was joke. What I thought he and I had was in my head. He never promised me anything. He never even gave me real hope for anything. He gave me friendship and that was it, but I didn’t want to see it. Then you came, and holy shit, I had to accept how stupid I had been. And I got to know you, and I really hated that. You weren’t a bitch. You weren’t manipulative. You weren’t a cheater. You were good. He loved you, and you were everything I wasn’t.”

  “This is a different type of memory lane than what I thought we were going on.”

  A second soft chuckle came from her. It wasn’t forced or bitter; it was genuine. A tear slid down from her eye. Only one. I waited to see if more would appear, but they didn’t. No matter how she described herself, she was tough. I asked, “What do you have to tell Hannah?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not done.”

  Now I laughed. “Well, then. Proceed.”

  A third chuckle, except it was louder. It sounded more like a laugh before she said, “I was getting to the part where I realized that I would have to hate you in silence.”

  “My favorite part. Keep going.”

  Smiling, she glanced over at me then rolled her eyes “Hannah’s rubbing off on you. Your sarcasm has reached epic levels.”

  “Your sister would be proud. I’ll make note to tell her.”

  She sighed, turning back to the window. “As I was saying, I knew that I’d have to hate you in silence. Everyone goddamn loved you. Cord bit my head off a few times, defending you.”

  “He did?” I grinned. That felt good.

  She nodded. “Yeah, told me I was becoming a bitter bitch and needed to change my attitude or I was going to become a bitter spinster. He told me no guy would want to marry me and I’d end up alone, being screwed by lowlifes. He said everyone would turn against me and I had no choice but to shut up, accept you, and fucking deal with it. His words exactly.”

  I laughed, sinking more comfort
ably into the couch. “I think I’ll bake Cord a cake tomorrow.”

  She grunted. “He’d like that.” Then she grew silent, looking back to the window.

  She was stalling. I knew it because it was something I would do, so I asked, “What happened?”

  “With you?” She grimaced. “I started to like you.”

  Our eyes caught and held. She knew that wasn’t what I meant.

  She said further, “That’s what happened. It’s a pain in my ass, liking you when you got the guy that I wanted, the guy that treats me like I’m family and accepted me into this group of friends even though I’ve been an absolute bitch to his girlfriend, who I really actually like even though I’ll never tell her.” Her voice shook on the last word. Another tear slipped free and she let it.

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell that bitch you like her.”

  She laughed again, but stopped. The emotion was there, buried deep. and she took a ragged breath. More tears slipped down. She let them. “My mom died tonight—” She broke off and the tears rolled freely now.

  I closed my eyes. The pain in her voice struck deep in me and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at Ethan’s portrait. A small ache, an old one that I knew would never go away, reminded me it was still there. “I’m sorry.”

  She jerked her head in a nod. “Yeah. It sucks.”

  It more than sucks. I knew that much.

  “Car accident. Our dad called me.” She closed her eyes, filling her lungs with air. “He told me that I have to tell Hannah. That it’s my job. That was, I have no idea. I’ve been sitting here. I can’t—she’s dead, but she’s my mom. It’s so weird. It’s…”

  “Not real?”

  She nodded, slowly. Painfully. “Don’t car accidents go to the hospital? Isn’t there, like, a time when they try to save them? I should be rushing to the hospital and hoping she’ll live. I mean,” she blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears, “that would prepare me, right? Isn’t that how these things go? Not like this, not one phone call and it’s done.” Her voice dipped in a sob. “Like a fucking business deal, no negotiations, no time to counter with another deal, no…Jesus, my mom’s dead.”

  I didn’t go to her. Anyone else and I might’ve, but this was Tiffany. She was the head sorority type. She was smart, vicious at times, but she was tough most of all. This was the nice side of her. I ached for her. I ached because I’d been there. I could still hear when they told me that Ethan was dead. I was like Tiffany. I didn’t want someone to hug me or comfort me, not at that moment. That came later, but not during this time.

  She whispered now, “I have to tell Hannah and this is going to break her. She’s…the two of them were so close. They were so much alike. My sister, my little sister,” her voice broke again. “What the fuck am I doing?”

  When she looked at me, I lifted a shoulder. “It’s not real, then it’s too real, and then it bounces in between. You’re still in the ‘it’s not real’ stage.”

  She swore. “I can’t…”

  I understood.

  I took a breath, feeling my brother in that moment. He was right beside me. He was holding my hand. He was patting my back. I understood. I could tell her so many things. I could tell her this was the first day of grief that wouldn’t lessen for years. The pain would always be there. She’d have to live with it. She’d have to hope to accept it, but I didn’t. None of that was going to help, it would only hurt. She couldn’t escape it.

  I took a small breath and murmured, “I’m sorry for your loss.” That was it. That was all I could say. She wasn’t ready for anything else. She was only ready for this stage now. Then I realized the one thing I could do that would help. “I’ll tell Hannah.”

  Her eyes filled with more tears. They were steadily trailing down her face, falling onto her lap. Tiffany didn’t notice them. She sat like a statue, but I saw the relief in her eyes. Mustering up a smile, aching for her because I had ached so much myself, I reassured her. “I’ll tell your sister. I’ll tell everybody for you.”

  She whispered, “Thank you.”

  Then I went to her and sat beside her. Reaching over, I held Tiffany’s hand and we remained like that until morning. She cried. I held her hand and that night, Tiffany and I became friends after that night.

  MASON SEES SAM FOR THE FIRST TIME

  “Mason, we have a problem.”

  Logan was laughing like a hyena beside me while Strauss was dissecting the exchange we witnessed twenty minutes earlier between Kate and Jasmine. I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could see Ethan better. “What?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “When Kate whipped out that bottle and Jasmine pissed her pants, I almost lost it,” Strauss continued as Logan kept laughing.

  “Shut the fuck up.” I punched my brother. He was drunk, he’d just gotten laid by two girls, and he loved hearing Strauss’s commentary on any chick fight we saw, but I couldn’t take anymore.

  “Mase!” Ethan hit my seat. “I told you. I have a problem.”

  Logan glared at him. “Shut the fuck up, Fischer. Strauss is talking.”

  “You shut the fuck up. I have a problem. Now.”

  We were all silent. Waiting. When Ethan didn’t comment right away, Logan reached over and punched his leg. “No follow through, man. That’s your problem. On and off the field.”

  “Ouch. That hurt.”

  “Fucker.”

  “Yeah.” Strauss shook his head. “We were all quiet, but you lost your turn. You didn’t perform. You gotta think quick on your feet, Fischer.”

  “You guys are pissing me off.”

  Logan started laughing again. When I heard his voice starting to rise again, I spotted Quickie’s, turned into the parking lot, and parked. I’d had enough. As I wheeled next to a filling station, I turned the engine off and twisted back around. “Logan, go inside and get something to sober up. I’m not taking you home like this.”

  He smirked at me as his eyes were glazed over. “We’re not going home. You heard Ethan. He’s got a problem.” Then he clambered outside.

  When Fischer didn’t follow him right away, I shot him a glare. “Go with him. Calm him the fuck down.”

  He grunted, but did as I told him. Logan waited at the front of the car, and when Ethan joined him, I heard him say something about Molly’s pussy.

  Strauss started laughing. “I know your brother isn’t high as a kite, but man, he’s acting like it.”

  “What do you expect? Two girls sucked him.”

  That wasn’t the truth, though. I knew that wasn’t why Logan was acting how he was. I lifted the gas handle and put the nozzle in my gas tank. We’d gotten the news about our dad’s mistress. She finally broke it off with her husband, and she was moving in the next day. Her and her daughter. When James told us, Logan hadn’t taken it in the best way. He wanted to fight someone and kept asking if we could go after the Broudous tonight. I kept saying no. When we fought them, we were going to make sure they wouldn’t come around for a long time, but I felt the itch inside me too. I wanted to fight someone. I wanted to do physical damage. That bitch broke up our family. Well...that wasn’t the complete truth. My dad’s dick broke up the family, but his bitch had been panting around him for a long time.

  Logan couldn’t fight anyone so he did the opposite. He was acting like it hadn’t happened. I sighed and leaned against my car, waiting for the tank to fill up. We were supposed to help them move the next day. Fuck me. There was no way we were going and no way in hell he could pay us enough to help them move. The bitch and spawn would have to move themselves, even though I knew James would end up paying for movers if we didn’t go.

  Then I saw her.

  I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. It was the same girl Logan had Googled. Samantha Strattan. We found out who our dad’s mistress was years ago, knew the husband was the football coach at Academy, but until last night, we hadn’t known about the daughter.

  It
was her.

  She was waiting by her car. Her arms were crossed over her chest, hugging herself, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. She was staring at Logan, who was now inside the gas station. Her long black hair whipped around her from the wind, but it was like she didn’t even feel it. No. She didn’t give a damn. That’s what punched me in the gut.

  She was strong. I saw the strength in her. She had dark eyes, petite lips, and high cheekbones. Her rack was decent. Her body was long and thin, but her legs were strong. Shit. She was tiny, but her eyes were dead.

  This was the bitch’s kid?

  Then her shoulders tensed. As she studied Logan, her eyes ate him up, but not like the two chicks who just sucked him. She loathed him.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  I saw her turn—and here she came. Her gaze locked with mine now. Her eyes widened, and a look of wonderment came over her. She moved away from her car, just a step. It was the same look I got from wide receivers after I sent them to the ground with one touch. They were always shocked by the force and they reassessed me. Every time. I shook her. I saw it because I recognized it in myself.

  Strauss came to stand beside me. He studied her a second before he commented, “Kate’s going to shit her pants by the looks of that one.”

  He saw it before I saw it, but I wanted her. I hadn’t realized it, but he was right. Then I smirked at her. This was going to be interesting.

  She saw the exchange. Her eyes narrowed and she lowered them for a second.

  I couldn’t stop watching her. What was she going to do? She knew that it was about her, but then her jaw hardened. She jerked her head back up and there was that same loathing, but it doubled. She stared right at me. Her shoulders squared as she faced me and then her chin lowered. Whether she realized it or not, her stance was challenging me.

  I fought against smiling at her. She was hot. I knew Logan was going to think it, but damn, I didn’t know if I could pass this one up.

  Logan and Ethan came back. My brother said my name, but I didn’t hear him. He said something more to me, but I wasn’t paying him attention. All of it was directed on her.