Page 66 of Crew
"Your ex goes to school six hours from here," Channing said. "I don't want you driving there."
"What?" I turned back to look at him. "Come on. Are you serious?"
"Chad had to take off. He's in the same town." Chad was another of Channing's crew members. "He can find him and have the talk you need to have."
"No."
"Yes."
Channing went back to watching the bikers. Two of the guys approached Jordan and Zellman. The bartender had paused, looking from them to Channing. He was waiting for a signal. Another door opened from the hallway, and Congo, another member of Channing's crew, came down.
He stopped right next to Channing.
Congo might've been short, but he was muscular, and he wasn't someone to mess with. He was like a bald mini bodybuilder.
"Yes, Bren," Channing repeated, cursing under his breath as he moved around me.
The bikers were now talking to Jordan, holding out a beer and gesturing to the pool table.
My brother started for them, then turned around and flung a hand toward me. "Get her out of here. Now." Then he was back to closing in fast on the pool table.
I looked over in time to see his crew member lock the register.
Congo started forward, a metal bar in his hand. Where he'd gotten that, I had no clue. He didn't have it when he walked down the hallway.
"Shit." Cross moved closer to me. "Maybe you should go?"
I threw him an incredulous look. This was my crew, and my brother. I wasn't moving.
I reached for my knife, tucked against my body under my shirt. I didn't pull it out. My hand was there, just in case.
"Hey, fellas." Channing walked up and threw an arm around Jordan's shoulders. He was an inch shorter than, but he yanked him down like he was going to put him in a headlock. He maneuvered him back behind the table, taking his pool stick at the same time. "If you'll excuse me," he said to the bikers. "I gotta kick these minors out of here." He shoved Jordan toward us. "You heard it, kid. Beat it."
Jordan took a couple steps, frowning at us and then my brother.
Zellman stayed right next to him.
"We were going to play a game of pool." One of the bikers picked up the pool cue Zellman had left behind. He had a scar that went down the entire side of his face. "They look like they have cash to burn. You don't mind, do you?"
Channing stood directly between us and them, but more of the bikers had started to take notice. A few moved closer. My brother held his hands up. His voice came out smooth and almost cheerful, but his jaw clenched.
"I got a fine recently for underage kids. Sorry, guys. You're going to have to play somewhere else."
The biker with the pool cue pointed it at Jordan. "How about it? You guys want to go somewhere else to play?"
Channing's shoulders tightened. "Somewhere in Frisco then."
Not Manny's.
Not in Roussou.
That was my brother's message.
I waited to see their reaction, but Chan didn't. He turned his back, and as soon as he did, his whole nonchalant facade dropped. His mouth set in a furious line.
Jordan took a step backward, seeing it.
Channing would beat his ass if he didn't leave.
Jordan cleared his throat. "Nah. Maybe next time. I think we got what we wanted." He looked at me. "Right? You're off the hook tonight?"
He widened his eyes dramatically.
I got his message too. "Oh yeah." I smiled at my brother. "I'll see you on Monday?"
I didn't wait for Channing's response. With Cross, Jordan, and Zellman behind me, I hurried out of there, veering right in the alley, past a couple more of Channing's crew members and my cousin, Scratch. I recognized Moose. He was bald like Congo, but tall, with tattoos all over his head and neck. I didn't recognize the other guy.
