Page 36 of Crew
A set of headlights came down Jordan's driveway.
All of us formed a line, waiting.
The car turned past the main house and began coming up the slight hill to the shed. After a moment its headlights lit us up. We weren't able to make out the car, or who was driving it. We were almost blinded, but there was no reason to hide. If they'd come to Jordan's, we would fight.
As the vehicle parked, I could tell it was a truck. I reached into my pocket for my knife.
The lights stayed on, but both doors opened.
"Put the knife away, Bren! Now!"
Oh shit.
Jordan glanced at me. "Your brother?"
I felt Cross looking at me too, but I only grimaced and did as Channing said.
The knife went back into my pocket, and I waited, his gait a brisk and angry motion. As he moved out of the headlights, I could see his jaw clenched, his eyes irate, and the bottom of his neck reddening.
Now, I had to give my brother some credit here. He'd been a terror when he was younger, but he was older now and generally more laidback. Generally. Having said that, I knew he did get pissed, but the times I'd seen his neck red could be counted on one hand. I almost stepped back, but I held firm, not looking away.
The person with him fell back, and when I recognized Race, I got a good jolt. An apology flashed in his eyes before Channing started.
"Want to tell me what the fuck happened at Manny's?" My brother raked his hands through his hair. "Heather called me and said it all started with you. You guys trashed the place? What were you thinking?!"
"Hey!" Zellman stepped forward, his hands balled into fists and his shaggy hair standing up as if a bird was trying to build a nest in it. "Back off. Alex had no business touching her. He was told this morning to keep his hands off. He ignored that warning tonight."
The redness on Channing's neck faded, but his jaw remained clenched.
"That true?" he asked me.
I narrowed my eyes. Fuck him. He knew it was true.
Cross moved forward. "What's Heather going to do?"
Channing stared at me a moment longer before saying, "Nothing. Your crew started it. If someone presses charges, no judge is going to care that Ryerson touched Bren against her will. There's no justification for your response to that."
But there was in the system. Channing let out a small sigh and moved back a step. It was the break in tension we needed.
"I'm sorry, Bren."
I looked at my brother and saw he meant it. But my anger still burned. I could only clip my head in a tight nod.
He should know someone touching me against my will would set me off. But the sad part was, he didn't.
The new guy was watching me, a captive audience. I looked at him, but he didn't turn away. There was no shame in his gawking.
Panic rose in me.
I couldn't. I couldn't stand here, not with my brother and what he didn't know, and Race and what he shouldn't know.
"I gotta walk," I told them as I took off, shoving my hands into my pockets.
I wanted to slink down. I didn't.
They were all watching me, so I kept my head up and my shoulders back.
A moment later, I heard a second pair of feet on the ground behind me. Expecting Cross, I didn't say anything. He wouldn't press me, knowing I would talk when I wanted. We could walk in silence. Sometimes that's all I wanted.
