Page 15 of Crew Princess
I whirled, my heart pounding, but it wasn’t Manny’s.
A few people screamed. Others gasped. Guys cursed.
“Holy fuck—it’s our cars! Our cars!” The Fallen Crest guys took off, sprinting back down the hill. One turned and pointed. “You fucks. This is war. Don’t think we don’t know it was you!”
“Come on, D!” someone yelled.
Cross frowned, stepping forward. “That’s what was going on?”
Drake rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Thought you guys were in on it. What happened? Zellman not tell you the plan?”
Cross met my gaze. Race had shifted to stand beside us, Taz still holding his hand.
Drake’s eyes narrowed as he dipped his head toward Race. “This why you went to their side?”
Taz gasped quietly, pulling her hand away from Race. She hid it behind her back, averting her gaze.
Drake watched her with mild curiosity.
Race shifted in front of her, rolling his shoulders back. “What of it? You’re the one who told me to come here.” He gestured to Cross and me. “I didn’t know what I was walking into. You did, and you didn’t warn me. Don’t get all pissy if I’m not joining the family crew like you wanted.”
Drake glared at him, all pretense gone. This was his real adversary. He showed his teeth briefly. “I wanted you to take over for my brother. Love the kid, but Alex is a hothead. You, you’re supposed to be smart. You were supposed to lead so I didn’t have to come back.”
“That’s right.” Race’s tone was taunting. “You were at college, right? How’s that going for you? Dropped out the first semester, didn’t you?”
Drake surged forward, reaching for Race’s shirt as he growled, “Listen here, you little fuck—”
“I don’t think so.” Cross stepped between them, using that same calm, controlled, and almost deadly tone.
Drake stopped, his hand in mid-air, and his eyes snapped to Cross.
He retreated a step, bringing his hand back down. He seemed flustered, and blinked a couple times to regain control.
I looked from Drake to Race, seeing a level of animosity I hadn’t in a while, at least among family members. Then I remembered: Race’s father had slept with Drake’s mother. The fathers were brothers. It was messy all around.
I glanced at Cross beside me. As if feeling my attention, he shifted toward me and grazed my hand, sending tingles up my arm.
I wanted to be alone with him. Right now. Forget all the bad shit in life, just him and me. That’s where it was good, where it was still right.
“Right,” Drake snarled, raking his hand through his hair. He motioned to his crew. “Let’s go. Cops will be fucking slow here, but they’re on their way.” He left with a parting shot for Race. “I’ll say hi to your dad for you.”
“You do that,” Race growled at his back, moving forward, his head lowered like he was going to charge.
Taz caught his arm, keeping him with her, and we all waited until they were farther down the hill, out of earshot.
“Race.” Cross jerked his head in the opposite direction.
Race nodded, running a hand over his face. The bags under his eyes showed his exhaustion. Taz started to go with, but Cross shook his head. “Just him. Sorry.”
She let go of his hand, staying put.
Cross led the way. Race was second in line. I brought up the rear.
Once we got to another clearing on the trail he’d picked, Cross turned around. We couldn’t wait around either, so he spoke quickly. “What was that about?”
“Drake and me?”
“The explosions.”
