Page 94 of Crew Princess
Before I could leap from the bench, the dog was on the other side of the door. He froze, catching my scent. A low growl began, followed by loud and angry barking.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I was off the bench, jumping over the banister, but instead of going to the front gate, I darted to the side of the fence between their house and the neighbor’s. Scaling up and over, I dropped down on the other side just as I heard them open the door.
“What is going on with you?” The husband was half griping, half laughing as he stepped outside.
There was a rush of feet on the patio, and I heard the dog growling and sniffing on the other side of the fence. A desperate whine came from him, and he tried to dig at the bottom.
“Groot! Stop it.”
They named their dog Groot. I smiled.
“Hey, boy. What are you smelling there?”
He was getting closer.
I headed out, running over the neighbor’s grass. They hadn’t put up a fence. The dog followed me, and I heard the owner say, “Oh. Whoa. What the hell…?”
Then I was at the sidewalk, and after darting past a few vehicles, I slowed to a walk, hunching my shoulders forward. I tugged the hood of my sweatshirt up and dug my hands into my pockets. It was the end of April, but it was still fucking cold in the morning.
I’d gone a few blocks when my phone started buzzing, and then I heard an engine behind me.
I knew, like I always did, because he always came after me, that it was Cross.
I didn’t even look.
He slowed down, and I reached for the door handle. I got inside, breathing in his scent of sand and pine, and I crumbled. The tears wouldn’t stop, and I wasn’t only crying because I missed my mom.
“Bren.” Cross parked the truck and slid over, pulling me into his arms. “Baby.”
I just cried harder.
Life was hard, almost too hard sometimes.
That’s what I cried for.
The next morning, thirty minutes before the school doors opened, I was still raw.
After Cross picked me up and held me during my breakdown, I hadn’t been able to put all the emotions away. That made me volatile, and no one liked a volatile Bren—me in particular. So after discussing things with Cross (and by that, I mean we just waited till Channing came home, changed, and headed back out), I took a day off. Cross called in for me because he’d been perfecting his Channing imitation. Then he went to school, and I stayed home to get my emotions in check.
It hadn’t fully worked.
But I was better today, and after having a crew meeting to bring everyone up to speed on the surprise Drake visit and the tidbits he’d dropped, we’d decided to deal with Monica first.
It was going against my bones to be at school this early, but here we were.
Zellman looked ready to piss, grimacing. “I don’t think this is the right way to deal with her.”
We were going to confront her.
I frowned. “Why not?”
“First, you look like you want to rip someone’s head off.”
The guys glanced at me.
I nodded. “True.” Monica’s would be preferable.
