Page 128 of Crew
"Bad."
He sighed. "I know." He hung his head. "I'm sorry, Bren."
I could feel Cross' gaze and looked over. There was a question in his eyes. He was asking what I wanted to do, but I only shrugged. I had no clue. My mind was already forgiving Jordan, but not my heart. God. It hurt to bring in air.
He'd stabbed me, just in the front.
"What do you want to do now?" Jordan asked. "I still have that cabin..." He let his sentence hang.
It was my decision. Stay or go.
If we stayed, I was giving in. I was letting Jordan off the hook. Yes, yes. He'd said the words. He apologized. He looked the part, but I still burned with rage against him.
I saw how Zellman was holding his breath, his cheeks actually rounded and puffed out, and how he was chewing his bottom lip.
The little boy inside him was alive and well.
His eyes skirted between me and Jordan. It was clear what he wanted to do.
No prison, but he wanted to party.
"When you become one of us, you have to agree to three oaths."
"Three?"
"Three. The first, will you treat us as family?"
"Yes." Without hesitation, without regret, without a doubt--yes.
"Will you fight for us as you'd have us fight for you?"
Another yes--no question, thought, or fear.
"And the last, will you forgive as if we're one person?"
I had said yes.
That was the one ritual we had to be part of this crew. Each question had been chosen for a reason, and each answer had to be true. I'd meant it when I said yes to the last, and remembering that now, I cursed under my breath.
He hadn't asked for forgiveness. It wasn't put in words, but he wasn't the only one here. I wasn't either.
Zellman wanted everyone to make up, and he wanted to party. If I made us all go back now, I'd be hurting Z. His love for the group, his desire for everyone to be happy--I couldn't take that away from him, not for this.
I let out a sigh. "We can go to the cabin."
"Yeah?" Jordan's eyes went wide. He almost took a step backward.
I nodded, but just barely.
He let out a whoop and high-fived Zellman. "Holy fuck, Bren. Thank you." He started for me, but I shook my head. "No."
He lowered his arm, nodding instead. "Thank you, Bren. I mean it."
He headed for the truck with Zellman and yelled, "I meant what I said, B. I'll make it up to you. I will. I promise. I'll show you."
"Yeah."
I loved this crew, so much, maybe too much. If he took that away, I would kill him.
