Page 120 of Crew Princess
I had two options. Finish this later, or do it now.
I chose now. I reared back, ready to throw the first punch, but my dad was there. He shoved in between us, growling, “Goddammit, Cross. GET THE FUCK BACK! NOW!”
“Dad?” Taz asked. “What are you doing here?”
“We got a call, said our children needed us.”
“Blaise. Honey.”
A woman launched herself at him. As soon as I stepped back from him, she was there, holding and hugging him. He didn’t move, didn’t lift his arms. His face was expressionless. But she kept mauling him, smoothing his hair, down his arms.
Taz came up next to me, her eyes glued to his.
I growled again.
My dad smacked me on the chest. “Stop it. I know you know, so calm down.”
And in the middle of all of that, a black SUV pulled into the lot and parked. Two doors opened, and two guys got out. One was famous, and the other was infamous around here.
Zeke Allen gasped, his eyes bulging. “NO WAY!”
The bigger of the two, with jet black hair, gave us a scan before heading inside. The other one had brown hair, still just as pretty, and a cocky smirk.
He stopped and stared at us, then sighed. “Aw, fond memories. Remember the times we beat people down, just for the fun of it?”
The bigger guy was at the door now, and he yelled back, “Logan! Get in here.”
I knew who Channing now meant by the cavalry. He’d called in the Kades.
“Why’d he call them?” Jordan asked, shifting to stand next to me.
I grunted. There was only one reason. “Their dad is the biggest benefactor for this police station.”
He and Zellman both looked at me. So did my dad and Blaise. I felt their attention.
“How do you know that?” Z asked.
I gave him a look. “Police arrest every student from our school and not theirs? You bet your ass I’m doing my homework. I’ve got a list of who has the power to pull strings, and James Kade is at the top.”
Jordan grinned. “And there’s our fucking leader. Always two steps ahead.”
I broke free from everyone. Channing had called in his fancy friends. That told me one thing: Bren was in more trouble than I’d thought.
Bren
The door opened and the two detectives from before came in. The woman carried a folder.
“Let’s try this again.”
The other cop didn’t sit. He moved against the wall behind me, his arms folded.
She sat, her head down as she skimmed through the papers.
One, I knew what they were doing.
Two, they’d already tried the friendly, we’re-just-trying-to-help-you act.
Three, this bitch knew exactly who I was, because I knew who she was.
