Page 82 of Crew
"Someone texted me, saying you were here. I got here as fast as I could." He glanced at my crew, but none of the three were paying him any attention. All eyes were glued to me. He looked at my brother instead. "Hello again."
Channing narrowed his eyes at me before turning to Race. He tipped his head back. "You gave me a ride last week?"
"I did." Race turned to me. "Alex and I have a difference of opinion. I had to find a new place to live today."
Channing grunted again. "You're a good fighter. I saw some of your moves."
"Thank you." Race winced, and I saw that he was hurting. His face was a little pale. "That's part of the reason I moved here," he continued. "There's a good underground ring. You're the champ, right?"
My brother nodded. He'd been keeping a mask up, but now he let a real grin shine through. "I am." He paused. "For now. I recently retired." He nodded to Moose and Congo, who were heading over. "Everyone handled?"
Moose said, "Everyone's down."
Jordan nodded at me. "I know Cross is checking, but are you okay?"
"Everything except maybe a rib." As I spoke, Cross straightened in front of me. His hand came to where my rib was, but he didn't touch me. He wanted to, his hand hovering there, and with a small apology in his eyes, he lifted up my shirt for a better look.
I pushed it down. "I'll be fine."
He wasn't listening. He held my shirt up higher and frowned at what he saw. His eyes closed, and a second later, he stepped close, his forehead softly resting on my shoulder. I felt his tension leave his body then, and couldn't help myself. I closed my eyes, running a hand down his back.
Neither of us commented as he shuddered under that touch.
Jordan cleared his throat, his voice still rough. "We'll take you to the hospital. Cross will drive you." He motioned to Zellman. "We'll be right behind you."
"I can go with her--" Race offered, but my brother shook his head.
That wasn't protocol. Crew took care of their own. Channing was my brother, and maybe if this were more severe, he'd step in, but even he respected the crew rule on this.
He stepped around so he could see me. "I'll see you at home tonight. Call if you need anything."
"I'll be fine," I told him.
He walked away with his crew, but yelled over his shoulder, "Call me!"
Cross glanced sideways at me, but I didn't say anything. I only nodded, waving to Moose and Congo. I refused to acknowledge the small part in me that was feeling all happy, glad that my big, bad brother had come to my defense. I wasn't like that. That was too girly.
Which I wasn't.
I was badass.
I had my own knife.
Right.
It took everything I had to keep from showing my stupid grin. It would've given me away, so I moved farther into my Jeep.
Cross held his hand out to Race. "Thank you."
Race froze. The rest of us watched, and after a pause, he put his hand in Cross'. "Yeah." He blinked a few times, rapidly. "Of course."
Cross added, "I owe you." And that was it. Turning, he got behind the wheel.
I tried to gauge his thoughts, but he only clenched his jaw and finally pulled out after the others had gone. We were the last vehicle.
We kept up with everyone going back into town, but after a while, I noticed Cross was going slower and slower, until Jordan's truck's lights were almost specks in the distance. Then he let out a deep breath and swung the Jeep into someone's driveway. He slammed it into park and was across the seat in a heartbeat.
I didn't have time to process.
