Page 178 of Crew
Everything was wrong that day.
I was usually the dark one. Cross was my light. We'd switched roles today. And that, somehow, was wrong too.
Jordan was the reasonable one.
Zellman wasn't even here.
All of it. All wrong.
I thought all of that before Cross opened the door. I hadn't moved from his lap, but it didn't matter.
Even the creak of the door was wrong. It was usually silent. Not a sound came from it. Jordan would've cursed about it. He was anal about the upkeep of his truck. And then that flashed from my mind too as Cross stepped out, carrying me with him. He set me on my feet, his eyes holding mine the whole time, just like always.
Then he reached around me.
His chest touched mine. His arm brushed against me before he stepped back, the gun box in his hand.
"Cross--"
"No!" He looked over my shoulder. "Both of you."
Jordan had stepped out on his side, his door still open.
"I mean it. This is my decision." Cross looked between us. "You're either with me or you're not. Which is it?"
"When you become one of us, you have to agree to three oaths."
"You made me promise to three oaths," I said.
He was ignoring me, getting the gun out.
"Hey!" I grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around. "Listen to me!"
"...will you treat us as family?"
I pushed up until my body was touching his. "Treat you as family." I cupped both sides of his face. "You're more family to me than anyone."
His eyes started to close.
"Don't!" I clipped out. "Look at me! You're going to do this, you're going to have to look at me before you walk away."
He shook, quivering, and he opened his eyes again.
A small amount of pressure lifted from inside of me. A small part of that icy dread warmed, just a tiny bit. But not enough. Not goddamn enough.
"Will you fight for us as you'd have us fight for you?"
"I'm supposed to fight for you like I'd want you to fight for me, and I am fighting for you. I'm fighting for you because you're me. We're a unit, whether we want it or not. I love you. I love you."
I was so close, my lips were grazing his, and I felt every word vibrate to my toes.
I couldn't stop cupping his face. I couldn't stop pressing against him, as if I could literally keep him from moving.
I felt him shifting, putting the gun in his pants, and then his hands came to my arms. They were gentle, but he moved me back.
"Bren." His hand touched the side of my face. "Let me do this. I have to. He touched Taz. He keeps touching you. I can't--this has to be done."
His body stiffened. His hands went to my shoulders again.
