Page 41 of Crew Princess
He knew what I was doing.
“I’m on two now, going to three next.”
He pivoted. “Working on the last truck then. Race, check the parking lot. Tabatha, study the treeline.”
We worked as a team. Taz had started a Roussou cheer.
Tabatha groaned under her breath. “Oh my God. What if something happened to him? Oh my God…” She wouldn’t shut up.
Two was clear.
Three, the same.
Four, still no Jordan.
Cross was counting down as he cleared the end of the line. “Eight. Seven. Six.”
We both were on five at the same time. Still no Jordan.
“He would stick out. He’s the tallest guy here,” Race said. “Fuck, guys.”
It was decision time now.
I had my phone out, typing a text as Cross pressed his phone to his ear.
I spoke as my thumb moved over the keys, “Tabatha.” My voice was calm, but my blood pressure was not. It was spiking all the way up.
“Yeah?” She rushed to my side. “What can I do to help? I’m so sorry, you guys. Honestly. He sent me over here. I didn’t think—I trust Jordan. He usually knows what’s best to do—”
I cut her off. Her rambling wasn’t helping. “I need you to send a group text to as many people as you can. We need eyes on Jordan, now. Text. Then do group chats on all your social media.”
“Okay. I can do that rush.” She pulled her phone out and dropped it in her haste. She picked it back up and dropped it again. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Okay.” She breathed out, exhaling deep. “I can do this. I can do this.”
“YEAH, WE’RE ROUSSOU, AND WE’RE FUCKING PROUD!”
Since she was already shouting, I tugged on Taz’s shirt and said, “Start cheering Jordan’s name.”
“FUCKING PROUD—JORDAN! JORDAN! JORDAN!”
Phones were lighting up. People were starting to look around. The word was spreading, and those who weren’t checking their phones started in with her chant.
Cross turned to me. “Let’s move. It’s time to start looking ourselves.”
I nodded, getting off my log.
“What should we do?” Race stepped toward us.
Taz was still thrusting her fist in the air, leading the chants. I gestured to her. “Watch over her. If Jordan’s actually missing, pressure is good against whoever might be hurting him, but if he’s not missing, we don’t want to give the wrong people ideas. You know?”
He nodded, running a hand over his face. Bags seemed to appear under his eyes. “This whole rivalry thing is real, huh?”
Cross grunted, his hand touching my back. “’Fraid so. And our crew did those car explosions. We have to go.”
Tabatha joined us, exclaiming, “Oh my God!” Her hand flailed in the air. “Someone said they saw him heading into the woods.”
“Uh…”
We turned. Zellman had joined our group. He held his phone in the air. “Why am I getting texts about Jordan?” He glanced up at Taz, both her fists in the air now. “And when did your sister become a protest leader?” He looked around. “Where’s Jordan?”
