Page 111 of Always Crew


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The guys didn’t say a word. They were waiting for their leader.

And judging me, observing me, Maxwell Raith gave me one small nod. “I know. That’s why I know you’ll keep your mouth shut, but listen to me on this. The feral little wolf thing you got going on, it won’t last. You’ll get married. You’ll have kids. You’ll be happy, and that’ll soften you up. Speaking on behalf of your pops here, I hope you get that life and that’s where I’m hoping our two paths never merge. As long as you keep quiet, you and I will never see each other again. And I say that with the best intentions if you get me?”

I got him.

And I was stunned that I got him.

He left, his men moving behind him.

I heard the sound of motorcycle engines starting up later, and my dad stayed throughout the whole while. I looked up now, and once the sound of them faded, I asked, “So what do you want now?”

His eyes flashed, and it struck me deep inside. Sadness. Emptiness. I felt it from him because that’s what I used to feel, before Cross, before Zellman, before Jordan, before Channing, before Heather, before my life right now.

A part of me pitied him, but he said, “I want everything from you, everything you’ll give me, but I’ll ask for nothing.” He stood, moving around the table, and he bent. He went slow, making sure I was okay with it, and I remained until I felt him kiss my forehead.

I closed my eyes.

He whispered there, “Be happy, Bren.”

I waited.

My eyes still closed.

I never heard him leave, but I knew he did and I knew after that day, that I’d only see my dad if I sought him out.

BREN

It was twelve minutes after Derrick left when I heard the first screech of brakes.

Car doors slammed.

Feet were pounding on the sidewalk.

There was shouting.

The doorbell was ringing. Someone was punching it over and over again.

Pounding on it, fists were hitting it and I heard from the back of the house, “BREN! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

Then, not a moment of silence where I could respond, I heard, “Dude! Check the back of the house. Maybe that’s unlocked.”

Zeke came barreling around the back side of the house, and seeing me sitting there, he braked to a sudden halt. His eyes were wide, alarmed, and his jaw tense, but then he cupped a hand by his mouth and hollered, “SHE’S BACK HERE!” He frowned at me. “You okay?” His head tilted to the side. “You look weird, Monroe.”

Huh.

That was it.

That was all I had in me, because hella shock syndrome here. Maxwell Raith left with a threat to my loved ones and I’m pretty sure I might never see my father again, so yeah… There weren’t words to summarize that, not that I would because this was Zeke.

And speaking of Zeke—I frowned and asked at the same time Blaise came running around the house, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He scoffed, but Blaise stopped next to him, raking me over, and he’s the one who answered. “Cross called, said he got a message from your brother that you were in trouble.” He looked around, scanning the backyard. “What the fuck? What happened?”

Yeah.

There was that whole situation where I couldn’t tell any of them about.

I shrugged. “I’m fine. I mean, there were people here, but they’re not and I’m good.”

I waited.

They didn’t leave.

“I mean, thanks for coming, but I’m good.”

They still didn’t leave.

They shared a look.

Zeke raised an eyebrow.

Blaise grunted. “Me too.”

Both looked at me—eerie.

Blaise said, “Sorry, but no fucking way. My brother called me for help. I’m not moving till his ass gets back and he can grovel in thanks at my feet.”

Zeke grinned, but he had the graciousness to glance at the ground. His shoulders were shaking.

“Knock it off,” I snapped at him. He didn’t, and I had to add, “Why aren’t you in a counselor’s office or something? Shouldn’t you be permanently scarred? Your frat frenemy was kidnapped last night.”

His shoulder stopped and his head snapped back up. “Thanks for the reminder, and you’re welcome. We came to help your ass.”

Like they could’ve done anything. I shook my head. “Whatever. I’m fine. I’ll send Cross to ‘grovel’ at your feet later.”

Except as soon as I finished speaking, another set of car tires were heard, pulling up on the driveway and slamming to a stop. More car doors.

More running.

This time female voices.

“That’s Blaise’s Wagon—BLAISE!”

“It’s locked.”

More doorbell ringing.

A dull-sounding knock on the door. My guess, someone was hitting it with the bottom of their palm.

“What are you doing?”

“I just got my nails done. I like Bren, but no way am I ruining my manicure.”

Someone snorted. “Priorities, man.”

Zeke snorted/laughed, and elbowed Blaise in the ribs.

Blaise groaned, his head falling back. “What the fuck?” He started walking around to the front of the house. “WE’RE BACK HERE! And what the hell are you doing here?”

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