Page 127 of Crew
He nodded, his hands going back to his pockets. "Yeah. I'm not going to defend him, but I don't think he really thought this through."
I growled. "You just defended him!"
"No. I didn't. I'm saying he's an idiot. I'm not saying he didn't have deeper reasons for this, but..." He paused, glancing back to the building. We could see Jordan standing in the entryway, watching us. He had a stark expression on his face, but he wasn't frowning. He wasn't smiling. He was just staring.
Zellman looked back to us. "I didn't know we were going to the prison. He lined up a cabin for us to party at tonight. That's all I thought we were doing, but he told me just now that he set everything up for you to see your dad tomorrow."
"I can't believe him." I twisted my hands together. It was the only way I could keep from grabbing my knife.
"Dude, stop," I heard Zellman say.
Jordan had come out from the fast food place. The wind was whipping his hair all around so a lock fell over his eyes, baring bleak anguish for a half second before he rammed his sunglasses back on. He looked harrowed, bags under his eyes, and in that second, his tan had a yellow tint to it. He was still pale underneath.
I registered all of that, and a part of my brain was telling me to slow down. Maybe he really was being a dumbass, but the other part held up the years of discord between us. He wanted me to do something, and I didn't, and he was always disappointed. Like he was my father. He wasn't. He was a friend. He was my equal. He was my crew. I didn't have to do what he wanted, and today was another example.
He wanted me to see my dad. Well, fuck him, because who was he hurting? Me.
Knives sliced through my chest. The betrayal was real.
"Bren, I didn't mean..." he called. "I wasn't thinking--"
"Goddamn right you weren't!" I started for him.
Forget feeling hurt. I was furious. That pushed the rest away.
Cross caught me, pulling me back.
I twisted my arm free. I wanted to fight. Fuck him. Honestly. Fuck him.
I pointed at him, using my middle finger. "You get on this kick, thinking you know best for us. You don't! You're a mouthpiece, Jordan. You're an enforcer. You're not the brains, and it's insulting to the rest of us when you assume you have to make decisions for us. You fuck things up. Your leadership role is intact because the rest of us don't care. But don't think you can throw my father in my face." I started to go for him again.
He backed up as Cross moved in front of me. Zellman moved to his side to form a wall between Jordan and me.
Jordan's face twisted, and he grabbed fistfuls of his hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be like this." He let go, his arms falling back down. "I really am so sorry. I only told your brother we were heading to a cabin for the weekend. I wish I'd mentioned more now. I--" He turned away for a moment. His hands found his hips. His shoulders lifted in a deep breath, then he turned back. He tore off his sunglasses, and I again saw the agony there. "I know how much you miss your mom," he said softly. "I know about the house."
"What?" The wind was knocked out of me.
"I was worried about you one night, so I tracked you down. I saw Cross' truck pulling onto a gravel road and couldn't figure out what the hell he was doing. Then I saw. I saw you, and I saw the house, and it made sense."
"You did what?" The words came out strangled, like a whispered cry.
He was hand-delivering my nightmare to me.
That place was sacred.
My place. My sanctuary. My haunt. It held good memories, bad memories, nightmares, but hopes. I had hoped for something better, until I was forced away. He had no idea, no idea what that house meant to me.
It was mine.
Not his.
I made the decision who went there. I did. Not him. Not my brother. Not even Cross. He knew because I chose to take him there. And that'd been it. No goddamn one else.
"You're going through something right now, and I just thought that if you couldn't have one parent, you could see the other. That's all I was thinking. I swear." His hands fell from his hips. "I know I'm a douchebag, but I'm trying to be better. I'm trying, Bren."
My insides felt like they were being ripped out, one organ at a time. "You fucked up, Jordan."
"I know."
