Page 93 of Crew
"That's why Drake quit? Because of me?"
He nodded. "That's why as soon as he graduated last year, Drake spent the summer with us. Alex is ambitious, but stupid. He wanted the crew to start doing illegal crap, like dealing."
"Dealing drugs?"
Race looked at Jordan. "I'm assuming you guys don't do that?"
Jordan looked offended. "We're not a gang. We're friends. We hang out, and we have each other's backs. That's all we do." He seemed to remember where we were, what we were doing. "And we do things like this. On occasion."
Zellman grunted, a half-grin showing.
"But it's not that far of a stretch," Race continued. "You know that. I know that. Why do you think the school staff hates you guys? They think you're bringing in drugs."
There had been gangs in Roussou, but they were pushed out when the crew system started. The biggest gang affiliation we had in town were the Red Demons, but they had an agreement with Chan's crew. I didn't know what it was, but I did know they weren't allowed to roam all around the town. The only place I saw them was at Tuesday Tits. That was it. Their base was somewhere else.
"We're not," I said.
Race turned to me. "Yeah." His voice softened. "Look, I thought about asking you out. I did. But..." His eyes flicked to Cross, then back to me. Race's shoulders lifted, and he straightened up as best he could. "I learned that wasn't going to happen."
I glanced to Cross too.
There was a flicker in the depths of his eyes, something dark, something deep, but then he shut it down. He signaled with a flick of his head to focus on Race again.
I did.
Race shook his head. "Yeah. Well, that's why Drake left."
"Just to be clear," Zellman said after a moment. He spread his arms out in a flat line. "This has nothing to do with Bren's vagina parts." He shot his hands up, his palms out. "And I say that in the most respectful way. You can talk about my dick if you want, B. But it has to be respectful, just like I did."
I rolled my eyes. "Suck my cock, Z."
Jordan barked out a laugh. Cross grinned.
Zellman was still--very, very still. He tilted his head to the side. "You're joking?"
"I'm joking," I assured him. "But I'm going to make you hurt later when I'm not hopped up on painkillers."
He shrugged. "That's fair. You warned me."
Jordan was still laughing, and he pointed to Race. "We're done, right? We got what we wanted? We know what we wanted to know."
"That's it?" Race asked.
"That's it." Jordan nodded.
I was relieved. We understood Race. We knew he wasn't going to hurt us down the road. That's all we needed. He was right. We were bloodhounds. Give us a half-truth and we'd pound you until we got it all. We weren't trying to be assholes, but living this life, living in Roussou, you learn not to trust kind deeds. Good Samaritans were the first to turn on you, a knife in your gut, smiling as you fell down.
Race held his hands up, and Jordan took out a pocket knife. He began cutting the tape away.
"You guys did all that just to ask me why I've been nice to you?" Race asked.
Cross moved to my side. "Truth comes out if people are scared."
When the last of the tape was cut from his wrists, Race leaned forward and pulled at the tape around his ankles. Jordan handed him the knife, and he cut it himself, handing it back when he was done.
Rubbing at his wrists, Race looked around the room. "What are you guys going to do then? About my cousin?"
The guys and I shared a look. Alex had gone after me, and now if he was dealing drugs? He'd gone from being our problem to being a problem for all crews.
