Page 45 of Crew Princess
We excelled.
I took another step, one more, and then I launched. Cross was taking down the guys with their backs to us, and as one started to go down, I used him as a stepping stool. I ran up his back, pushing off from his shoulders, and then I was flying in the air.
The guy saw me, horror and shock forming in his eyes, and he couldn’t move. He was frozen, just watching me come. He tried to twist out of the way, but he had the thought to grab me at the same time. His hand came up in defense, but it wasn’t enough. It was a weak deflection, and my foot found him, my heel making a clean hit. With the force of my jump and my entire body behind the kick, his body fell backward to the ground. I went with him, landing and going with the momentum to punch him in the neck.
He doubled over, gasping for breath.
But I was gone, pivoting and grabbing the arm of his friend coming in to save him.
I was smaller than most of these guys. They were athletes. Most worked at their bodies, lifting weights, and I couldn’t fight them on that level. But speed, grace, and knowledge? I could fight them with those qualities. And smarts.
I was thinking, clear-headed. They weren’t.
I’d look back later and realize there were no shouts. There should’ve been yelling, curses at least. There were none.
They’d been cheering on their pals as they fought Jordan. But we showed up, and nothing. They were quiet.
After I used the arm meant to hit me, I crawled up his body and threw myself backward so I could flip him over. Then I threw my legs up and scissor-kicked the next guy across the face—he was the third guy I knocked down.
After all of that, I looked up.
They ran.
They all ran, not one stayed to help their friends. That said everything right there.
“Bren,” Jordan gasped, falling down.
“Jordan!” I ran to his side, catching him just as his face almost planted in the ground. I knelt there, holding him. I cradled him against me, but I was watching Cross and Zellman. Both were fighting, making quick work of the remaining two guys.
Zellman tackled his guy, throwing him to the ground and rearing back to land punch after punch. Cross’ opponent tried to rush him. Cross caught his arm and twisted, tucking his shoulder into the guy’s chest. He knelt, flipping him over, then landed one final punch. He knocked his guy out cold, then took stock. When he saw Zellman, he ran to tear him off of the guy.
“Z.” He grunted, pushing Zellman back.
“No. Let me at him! I hate these fuckers.” Zellman clawed at Cross, trying to break free.
Zellman was charged. He wasn’t stopping, and seeing that, Cross yelled at the guy, “Get lost!”
The rest had run off, except for those unconscious on the ground. He was the last of his friends, and he nodded, barely. Pushing to his feet, he started for the path we’d just used. He staggered, falling down, pushing up, and going some more before repeating the process. After we saw him fall three times, he managed to catch his wind and went off at a slow jog, disappearing around a bend.
Cross let go of Zellman, who was still ranting and cursing. “What the fuck, man!”
Cross ignored him, coming to me and kneeling down. “Jordan?”
“Those assholes maced me. I didn’t know what was going on until I was already on the ground. I couldn’t fight back at first.” His entire right eye was swollen shut. “Cross. Bren.” His voice trembled. “I thought—I thought I was going to die tonight. If they hadn’t stopped… If they’d just kept going…”
A shudder went through me. I held him tighter.
Not tonight. Not on our watch. Cross and I shared a look—not ever.
We were completely alone on the hill.
“God! Fuckers! I just want to—why’d you hold me back?” Zellman’s arms were in the air. He was swinging them around, as if warming up for a race. His chest heaved. His eyes were wild. “I—”
I pushed Jordan into Cross’ arms and stalked over to Zellman. “What the hell is your problem?! We fight with clear minds.” I wanted to wring his neck, and my hands jerked up, forming fists.
Zellman saw them, the motion calming him for some reason, and he stepped back. His arms lowered to his sides. “Bren?”
“What the fuck were you thinking? You just kept railing on that guy.” I remembered Zellman’s hostility from the day before. “You’ve been nuts since Tabatha’s party. What is going on with you?”
