Page 46 of Crew Princess
Ring! Ring!
Cross was helping Jordan stand up when his phone rang, silencing our fight. He pulled it out just as I saw the lights. Red and blue lit up the sky.
I muttered, “Shit,” as Cross answered his phone.
“Yeah?” He listened to whoever was on the other end. “Got it. Taz can link up with my phone, so watch my GPS.” He pulled the phone away and tapped a few buttons before sliding it back into his pocket.
Zellman stepped back into me, cursing under his breath.
Cross said what we all knew. “Cops are here.” But then he added what we didn’t know. “They have thirty cars down there.”
My mouth almost fell open. “Thirty?”
His jaw was tight, his face grim. “Race saw them pulling in just as he turned onto the road up ahead. They saw the flashing lights, but not the actual cops when they were leaving the lot. My guess is that they got out just before the cops came over that last hill.” Cross motioned behind us. “We can’t go down there. They’ll arrest us.”
Which meant we had about a mile hike ahead of us.
I remembered what the Frisco guy had said. “He said go straight and we’ll hit the road. Right?”
A mile hike was fine, in the daylight, when one of us wasn’t struggling to stand.
As if reading my thoughts, Jordan grunted and shoved Cross away. “I can stand on my own.”
He couldn’t. He started to go down.
Cross grabbed him as Zellman, and I rushed forward.
“I got it. I got it.” But Jordan was panting as he said it, and knowing he wouldn’t listen to reason, Cross and I simply stepped up on both sides of him. We threw his arms over our shoulders, and Zellman took point. He had his phone out to light the way.
“Let’s go.”
There was nothing else to say, not until we got to the road and got Jordan to a hospital.
We’d gone ten feet when we heard the first yells, and as one, we looked back.
The red and blue lights were there, but they weren’t moving. Whatwasmoving: flashlights.
Zellman sounded mystified. “They’re coming after us.”
We couldn’t go fast. Jordan’s leg was injured badly enough that he needed us to keep going.
Realizing that, he pulled out from under our arms. “Go, you guys.” He waved us ahead, looking wrecked. “Seriously. Go. I might not get in as much trouble since I got jumped.”
It was a valid point, but my gut was blaring loud and obnoxious alarms.
I shook my head. “No, Jordan. You gotta come with us.” I shared a look with Cross. We’d have to carry him. Jordan was over two hundred pounds. It would take all three of us.
“Come on.” Cross stood in front of him. “Don’t jerk. Got it? You’ll shit my back.”
Jordan’s eyes were wide, disbelieving, but Cross bent down, tucked his head to Jordan’s side and whoosh. He scooped him up, fireman-carry style.
My mouth hung open.
The sight of Jordan wrapped around Cross’ shoulders and body—yeah. It was wrong for my mouth to start watering. Drooling.
Jaw tight, face grim, Cross grunted. “Let’s go.”
He led the way at a light jog as Jordan groaned and held out the phone to light the way.
