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He was scared of me.
He was still speaking, “—from all fraternity and sorority events.”
Jordan scoffed. “This is a street party.”
“It’s a fraternity event.”
Jordan shot back, “It’s a street, asshole.”
I looked at Zeke, seeing his gaze solely on me.
Before, he always had a smirk, something smug to say. Not this time. He was sober, somber even, and he was staring right at me. I tilted my head to the side, and he didn’t react. He didn’t break eye contact.
I frowned at him.
Still. No reaction from him, except his eyes danced to Cross and back to me. He looked again, off in the direction Aspen had been taken, and he nodded, letting out a noticeable breath.
Cross moved so the back of his hand grazed mine. He always did that in these times. Sometimes it was to hold me back, sometimes to give me strength, sometimes to anchor himself, but this time, as I looked at him, he gave the slightest nod. This time, it was to let me out of my cage.
He showed me his phone’s screen.
Channing: We got her. Whatever you’re going to do, be safe. Don’t let Bren get arrested or I’ll toss you in jail myself.
I gave him a smile, and he hissed under his breath, but he grinned back. He knew what he was doing.
“Harper…” I made sure there was a taunt in my voice.
He froze for a second before looking at me. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and he raised his chin up. “Yeah?”
I settled back on my heels, getting comfortable. “Remember me?”
It was a matter of time before he talked. I was controlling it. I was deciding when it happened, and it was happening now.
Harper didn’t respond, but I got distracted. Just for a moment.
Beyond him, farther in the crowd was a girl. I frowned, moving to the side for a better view. Kess Foster. She was a blast from the past, the only other girl in the crew system back at Roussou. Her hair caught my attention first, it was like a beacon at times. Almost pure white, but her eyes were the other recognizable attribute. They were like an ice blue color. Sometimes I swore they were grayish white, but she was looking through the crowd. Seeing me, frowning, her eyes narrowed, she started toward me.
Kess was like that.
Her crew had been small, and one of the ones that most forgot was even a crew, but that hadn’t been her fault. It’d been her crew’s fault. Still. She came from crew roots. She scoped out the situation and was coming to help.
That was, until a guy moved ahead of her.
She stopped, still frowning, and looked up.
The guy—he seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Dark hair. Blue eyes that almost matched Kess’, but not quite. A brother? I didn’t remember if Kess had any other siblings, but no. There was an air about them, about them both. He moved into her, also looking at us, but he wasn’t looking at me.
He was watching Harper, and seeing who Harper was talking to—now he saw me and he saw me watching him. That was enough. He grimaced, swearing under his breath (not hard to read lips when someone says ‘fuck’) and then two guys walked past them, and they were gone.
I looked but couldn’t see them.
That was… odd.
“We want you gone.”
I tuned back in. Harper was taking the charge, motioning for Jordan to leave.
The guys around Harper were rallying, moving in as if they were going to physically force Jordan from the premises.
Cross growled, moving to meet them.
And that was my cue. I went, too, reaching for an old friend of mine. I pulled out my knife. It’d been a graduation gift from Cross. A little wolf had been carved into the handle. I loved it, I now slept with it at my bedside, but it accomplished its desired effect.
The old Bren was here and pushing to join the fight. She wanted out of her cage.
I smiled.
They stopped in their tracks at the knife, but the smile, a smile that I knew was eerie, sent them edging backwards.
Harper didn’t move. His gaze was transfixed on my knife and he paled, his jaw slackening.
What happened next, I’d think back on later.
I’d wonder if we continued how we were going, what would happen. If we would’ve contained the situation, scared the guys off, and Jordan could’ve stayed and had a good night, or if things would have inevitably turned bad anyway?
In a way, maybe it didn’t matter?
Because what did happen was chaos. Then again, I was learning that’s what happened when Cross’ brother joined the mix, and as I was noting Harper’s feared response to me, there was a commotion to the side. People were talking. Conversations were loud. A couple shouts, and then Blaise arrived in a rush. He was a force, like a pin being taken to a balloon, and at his presence, Harper was pulled out of his trance.
