Always Crew (Crew Series Book 3) Read online

  There were good qualities in him, but mostly he couldn’t stand me, and I couldn’t stand him. We were locked together no matter how much friction was between us.

  Blaise ignored the attention. That also seemed something that came more natural to him, yet another thing about him that pissed me off, and I had no idea why. He said, “I took off somewhat early that night. Aspen showed up, but before that, I noticed Jordan’s girl in the kitchen. She was sitting in a guy’s lap, macking with him.” He glanced over, his eyes narrowing before his smirk only deepened. “God. It’s really pissing you off that you have to even ask me, isn’t it?” Another low chuckle from him. “I love it.”

  My teeth ground on each other. I bit out, “Just fucking tell me everything so I don’t have to come back and push for more answers. No matter what you’re acting like, I know you hate this as much as I do.”

  Blaise’s smirk remained, but his eyes darkened, flashing.

  Oh yeah. The prick wanted to fight just as much as I did. Sometimes I think he wanted to fight more than I did. I was known for holding my own back in Roussou, my entire crew was, but the one time Blaise and I did trade blows, he held his own. The fucker could punch. My ribs hurt for two weeks, and I hadn’t gotten a good swing in on his ribs. I aimed mostly for his face, though I was a lot prettier.

  He paused, facing me. The smirk was gone.

  I rallied, not knowing what to expect. If he would throw a punch or drop the act, either way, I needed to be ready. Then he said, “The guy’s name is Tim Harper. He’s one of Zeke’s brothers, so you’ll never get his name out of Zeke. Me, I’m not in their fraternity, and I happen to think Harper’s one of the biggest sleazes around. Why your boy’s ex was macking with him, I have no clue. I’m not over there much, but when I am, I’ve not heard any talk.”

  “Did Zeke say how long Tabatha was with the guy that night? Did she sleep with him?”

  Blaise was quiet.

  “Blaise.”

  “Don’t,” he snapped, his eyes flaring. “Zeke is my best friend. I know you guys have an opinion about him, and I can see why you do, but he’s unconditionally my best friend. He’s at my side when no one has been, so I’m not sure how the fuck to walk this line.”

  He was shutting down. He was picking his side. And it most definitely wasn’t mine.

  “So she did sleep with him, and,” and I was still gauging my brother’s silence and what he wasn’t telling me, “Zeke knew. He didn’t say she slept with him, just that she was making out with him.”

  Blaise’s eyes got hard. “Do not put my best friend in the middle of this shit. You do, and there’s war again. I will pick him over you any fucking day of the week. Got it?”

  My blood cooled. Yeah. I got it.

  “Now I know, huh?”

  Images of shoving him in the pavement were still fresh, still rallying in me.

  I was starting to forget why I couldn’t do that.

  “Now you know.” His jaw clenched. “I’m surprised you haven’t rounded him up, to be frank. I’m loyal to Zeke, not to that piece of shit Harper.” He gave me another pointed glare before walking ahead, and I had to stop.

  I had to think.

  Blaise was strong in his opinion of this Harper. I looked after him, frowning, and he glanced back over his shoulder. He paused, half-turned to me, and stared right back. He stared hard.

  He was trying to send me a message without the words.

  Blaise wanted us to go after this guy. That hadn’t been on the agenda, but maybe it should be? Tabatha cheated on Jordan, not that guy. Still, okay then.

  My brother didn’t form opinions lightly about people. He didn’t like most people, but he didn’t have this strong of a reaction unless there was a good reason. I grimaced, remembering the last time I got enlightened as to why Blaise had some full-out hatred of the guy who raised him.

  I pulled out my phone and typed a text.

  Me: Something is going on. You need to talk to Tabatha about the guy she cheated on Jordan with.

  Bren: Why?

  Me: I’ll tell you later. Need to loop Zellman in 2.

  Bren: Okay.

  Me: How’s your day?

  Bren: I’ll fill you in on that later.

  Me: K. Love you.

  Bren: Love you.

  And then, I went to psychology. When I got inside, Blaise went left. I went right.

  Seemed fitting.

  FROM: Tazsters

  TO: Cross

  SUBJECT: CALL ME LOSER

  I love you. Race says hi too.

  The Best Twin

  BREN

  We rounded up six bail jumps that day.

  I asked Gramps if that was a normal day, and it wasn’t.

  “Nah, nah. We have to meet our quota, so this was round-up day.”

  I had no clue what any of that meant, but I guess it was round-up day.

  “Yo, girl.”

  I paused, heading out for my truck. My phone was in hand and I was about to shoot Cross a text. Glancing back, Hawk was heading out of the Coug r Lanes behind me, her sunglasses in hand and her purse’s strap across her body. She was still in our black uniform, but her vest was off. So were the rest of her weapons.

  “Are you heading to do what you asked for help with before?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She stopped in front of me, staring. There was a lot of staring with this group. Then, her lips pursed together, she seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll help.”

  “Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows.

  One nod from her. “But I drive, and you will tell me what Brock said to you today because I know he did. It’s why he wanted you in the vehicle with him.”

  I needed someone with me. Tabatha would be on another level, one I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with, because unlike last night when I had been eager to ‘handle’ her, I wasn’t anymore. I was tired. Not being involved at all in the action from today, but watching each step of the process had taken a toll.

  I shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

  She pointed to a black Jeep behind me, and we both got inside.

  “You mind if the top is down?”

  “That’s fine.”

  It was one of the Jeeps where the sides and top could either be up or lowered down. I had to admit that it was nice to be driving with the breeze after sitting inside a vehicle all day, and after a couple stoplights, after I pulled up the address for Tabatha’s house and got the GPS ready to go, she asked, “So. Fill me in. What’d he say to you?”

  I didn’t want to ask why she wanted to know. That was politics I didn’t want to deal with, so I filled her in.

  I waited a full thirty seconds for her to respond.

  When she didn’t say anything, neither did I.

  It wasn’t until we pulled up outside of Tabatha’s sorority house before she spoke again. She turned the engine off. “If he asks you again about the Red Demons, let me know.” He already did, but I frowned. “There something I need to know?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I have to ask you this question, and it’s for your safety. Okay? I want you to know that.”

  My gut tightened. “What is it?”

  “Do you know anything about the Red Demons?”

  My gut tightened even more. “No.” I was getting pissed that I was getting questioned about them in the same day, much less at all. “I know nothing about them.”

  “Okay.” She blew out a breath, nodding. “Good. Just keep it like that and you’ll be fine.”

  That wasn’t totally true, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business.

  Her gaze trailed past me, and she cursed under her breath. “Jesus. You weren’t kidding about the sorority house.”

  I grinned. “Why did you think I needed backup? Not for my safety, for my mental health. These girls make me want to go apeshit.”

  “I’m thinking I should’ve kept my Taser on me.”

  I paused. “Is it here?”

  She motioned to
the back. “In my bag.”

  That didn’t even need consideration. “Grab it.” And then I added for good measure, “Wear your badge, too.”

  Hawk was grinning as she clipped it in place, following me up to the house. A burst of warmth hit me in the chest, and I didn’t know how to handle that feeling, so I tried to roll my eyes. I couldn’t. Instead, I grinned back as I knocked on the door.

  There was a sound of footsteps running to the door before it opened. A girl stood there, barefoot, hair up in one hand, shorts low on her hips, and a tank top that was barely covering her breasts. It’d been pushed up, and sitting there, right on her bare stomach was a handprint. A white handprint, tan all around it.

  The girl frowned. “What? Who are you?” She saw Hawk’s badge, then her Taser, and her eyes got even bigger. “I thought you were my tan girl.”

  I didn’t ask. I pushed in, ignoring her and saying as Hawk followed me, “Where’s Tabatha?”

  “Wha—hey!” She tried to get in front of us, blocking us from the house. Too late. We were already inside, and as her shoulders fell, she asked, “Who are you?”

  “Just tell me where she is.”

  “No.” Her hand let go of her hair and it came tumbling down, falling past her shoulders. “We have an event tonight and you need to leave, whoever you are. I’ll let Tabatha know she had two people asking for her, but she’s not here—”

  “Who’s at the door…” Tabatha’s voice rang out from the second floor, alerting us before she appeared, standing at the bannister. Her voice trailed off, seeing us. “Oh.”

  Oh?

  That’s not what I expected to hear.

  I moved past the girl, heading for the stairs.

  “Hey! No. You can’t go up there.”

  Tabatha wasn’t saying anything.

  The door girl was trying to get in front of me again, in front of Hawk, too, since she was behind me. “Tabatha, get to your room. You two, stop!”

  Tabatha sighed. “Just let ’em up. I should’ve gone to see her anyway.”

  That really wasn’t the response I expected from Tabatha.

  Door Girl paused, frowning up. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Tabatha waved toward me as I was nearing the top of the stairs. “She’s Jordan’s family.”

  “Oh.” Door Girl stepped to the side, all the fight leaving her. A flash of remorse filled her eyes instead, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Adjusting her top so it was firmly bunched under her breasts, the doorbell rang at that moment and she looked back to it. “I–that’s for me.”

  “Go.” Tabatha nodded, her tone gentle. “I’ve got this.”

  “You sure?” The girl hadn’t moved from her step. Her concern was clear.

  “Yeah.” Tabatha’s voice was more firm. “I’m good. Promise.”

  Door Girl gave her a look, widening her eyes. “Call if you need anything, anything. I mean it.”

  “I will.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Go. Fix your tan line.”

  The girl groaned before hurrying back down the stairs. “That’s what I get for crashing after a full night of studying. And we have the Zeta Kappa Mingle tonight, too.” Right before the door, she snapped back, pointing at Tabatha. “Don’t forget the green dress for tonight.”

  “Got it.”

  The door opened and we heard voices below, but I tuned them out. Tabatha was staring at me now, a sadness so strong that I started to feel it. She said quietly, “What Jordan told you wasn’t the total truth.” Her eyes flicked to Hawk, lingered, narrowing, and her head moved back an inch. “You brought backup for me?” She was fully taking in all of Hawk now. “A Taser gun? You a cop?”

  Hawk snorted, stepping closer to me. “I’m thinking you don’t need the restraining you thought you did.”

  Yeah. I was getting that vibe, too.

  I gave her a small nod. “I can call for a ride. You can take off if you want.”

  She nodded back, giving Tabatha a long look. “Not what I thought I was getting myself into this afternoon. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Five again?”

  Please, God, no.

  She started for the stairs, but flashed me a grin. “Eight this time. You’re in charge of coffees. I’ll text you the list in the morning.”

  Coffees. I could do that.

  Then I thought about it. I was their intern girl. I was the rookie. My mouth twitched. A part of me enjoyed that, for some reason. It felt… normal?

  I’d never felt normal.

  It was nice.

  Tabatha started down the hallway and turned back at a door. Seeing me still standing by the stairs, she motioned with her head in a room. “You coming?”

  I followed.

  Her room was large, and sunny. Her windows went up and folded back, becoming half skylights. She had two, facing out over another large house next to them. A dresser was set between the two windows. A closet with sliding doors was on one side. Her desk was against her wall, just beyond the door when it was opened. In the middle of the room, facing the windows, was her bed. Two nightstands on either side of it.

  As I stepped farther inside, she closed the door and disappeared into a door behind it.

  It was a small bathroom. She looked like she had just enough space to stand inside.

  Her voice called from inside, “I’m surprised it took you this long to come over.”

  I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  She came back into the room, a hair curler in hand. She was rolling up the cord. “Because I cheated on Jordan. I hurt one of ‘yours.’” Her tone was biting. “I kept expecting to wake up with a knife to my throat.”

  She moved to her desk, putting the hair curler there and sitting down. She swung around to face me, just waiting.

  Waiting for what, I wasn’t sure.

  I wasn’t sure myself.

  I sat on the end of her bed. “You’re not a cheater.”

  She reacted before catching herself. Her head snapped to the side as if I’d slapped her, but drawing in a harsh breath, she froze. I waited, watching as her chest slowly deflated. Then she swallowed before she closed her eyes, her head folding downward. “I didn’t expect this response either.” She raised back up, her eyes almost haunted. Her cheeks looked more gaunt. She lost color, as if I were a ghost she just saw. “You were supposed to hate me, Bren. Why aren’t you hating me?”

  I leaned forward, my elbows to my knees. “Instead of wasting that emotion, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

  Cross hadn’t waited to fill me in at the house tonight. He called right after his class, left me a message on the vibe he was picking up from his brother. He was right. There was more going on.

  Tabatha didn’t respond.

  I tried with a different question. “My brother is a bounty hunter. You know that, right?”

  She laughed, and even that sounded hollow. “Everyone knows from Roussou. Channing Monroe takes care of our town. Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because he hooked me up with a local team here. I’m going to be working with them.” Well, technically… “I mean, I am working with them.”

  “So?”

  “So, I have access to find out shit. Like who the fuck Tim Harper is and why someone we know thinks he’s a sleaze.”

  She froze again, and then slowly, as if she were letting one muscle at a time unlock, a different look came to her. Hope? Fear? Caution? I couldn’t place it, but it was a mix of all of them and more. So much more.

  She whispered, “Who said that to you?”

  I didn’t think Blaise would care I dropped his name, he could handle himself, but it was the principle of not outing someone that kept me from saying his name. I shrugged. “Just someone.”

  She stared at me, long and hard. “Blaise DeVroe.”

  Her eyes closed a brief moment and she nodded to herself. Her hands raised up, raking through her hair before dropping back to her knees. “That makes sense. He
wouldn’t give a shit about Harper either. Zeke would. Zeke would get in trouble, and that’s why you’re not confirming it came from Blaise.” She was talking to herself, studying the wall by her door. “What do I do here? What do I do?” Another anguished whisper choked out as she closed her eyes, “I have no idea what to do here.”

  I lost patience. “Just tell me what is going on! Let’s start there.”

  “You don’t get it. You don’t—”

  “Tabatha—” I had no idea what I was about to say, but then the words were just coming out. I was shocking myself right alongside Tabatha. “You told me that I didn’t know how to have friends. You’re right. You were right. With me, it was either family or not. But you became a friend. I have no clue how that happened. Sometimes I want to wring your neck because you’re a snob. You’re stuck-up. You can be a colossal bitch.”

  “Look who’s talking!”

  I spoke, ignoring her, “But Jordan fell in love with you, and somewhere along the line, I started liking you, too.” We had our hiccups, but there it was. I did like Tabatha. “I didn’t know what I was going to do when I came here today. Jordan didn’t tell us why you guys broke up until last night.”

  “What?” Her lips parted. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “We’ve been in this weird—anyway. It doesn’t matter. When I went to bed, I wanted to come here and rip you apart. I brought Hawk—”

  “Her name is Hawk? Are you serious about that?” She was trying to keep from laughing.

  I scowled. “I can call her back, if you’d like. You can laugh at her name right to her face. See how that goes for you.”

  Her laughter vanished. She coughed, straightening up in her chair. “Right. Back to, uh, me and Jordan.”

  “Blaise never said anything, but,” I had to relent something, “there was a look he gave Cross.”

  “A look?” A look. Got Cross thinking, going over what Blaise hadn’t said, so he technically never said a thing.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her spark was gone again, the dull, dead look washing back in its place. She seemed to go pale before my eyes. “I can’t say anything. This is pointless.”