Page 116 of Crew Princess
Channing’s eyes narrowed. “Get a handle on yourself. You can’t help Bren if you’re like this.”
“Fucking easy for you to say,” I seethed. “You didn’t see her walked out to that cop car.”
Shit. The image was searing my mind again. I flinched, unable to unsee it. “They gassed her. They smoke bombed her. They went at her with SWAT, in SWAT gear, holding their fucking guns at her.” My voice rose. “They pointed their guns at her!”
Channing swore under his breath, then motioned for the door. “Take a walk. Tear something up. I don’t give a shit what you have to do, but do it. I need the Wolf Crew leader with a clear head in about an hour.”
“Why an hour?”
“Because they’re not going to let us get to her before that, and I have the cavalry coming in for this.”
He turned away and headed for the front desk like he was squaring off against the opposing team’s goalie, score was tied, and he was skating to win the gold medal. No. Not even that. He was heading for them like they were between him and his sister.
I felt a smidgen of pity… No, I didn’t. That was a goddamn lie, one I was trying to tell myself so I’d calm the fuck down, but it wasn’t working. I growled. I didn’t even realize it until Channing twisted back to look at me.
He scowled, snapping his fingers at Jordan and Zellman. “Get him out of here. He needs to calm down.”
They nodded, but Race was there before either of them could touch me.
He started to push me for the door, but I resisted, planting my feet.
“Cross. Come on.”
“We got him.”
Jordan and Zellman were here, but I still wasn’t fucking going. I couldn’t. Everything inside of me was screaming to stay, be here for Bren, just in case they walked her past the desk. I had to be here. I just had to be—but the guys had a different thought.
“Take him out,” Channing yelled. “Now!”
All three of them were on me, and I was up and in the air. Throwing myself backward, I clambered over Zellman, shoving off of Jordan’s shoulder, but then two more guys were there, grabbing me. They fucking carried me out. Twisting, wrenching, vowing I’d kick all their asses—they ignored me until we were back in the parking lot.
They set me on my feet, and Jordan grunted, “Hold him down until he can think clearly. He’s goddamn nuts right now.”
I waved my arms. Bren needed me. I had a primal need to be back in there, as close to her as I could. I was almost rabid. I couldn’t see straight. The air was humid, weighing me down. I had to get free. I had to fight bac—
“SETTLE THE FUCK DOWN!”
That was Jordan. Screaming in my face.
“Cross! Oh my God!”
That was Taz. My sister. Her voice got through, but I couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t.
“Holy fuck.”
Someone grunted in surprise. A car door slammed shut.
I was fighting. I didn’t care who I was hitting. I could taste tears, sweat, blood. Mine. Someone else’s. I. Did. Not. Care.
Bren was all that mattered.
Then footsteps pounded, and I was shoved down to the cement. A two-ton truck was on top of me, and I couldn’t move. There were hands on my arms and legs, pinning me down.
But
I
Was
