Always Crew by Tijan

BREN

Two months later

I was standing outside a bowling alley with a red neon sign that said Coug r Lanes. Cougar Lanes. The first A wasn’t lit up, just blacked out.

Okay, then.

Coug r Lanes.

Channing: 4 pm. Cougar Lanes. Ask for Brock or Hawk. Steer clear of Shetland. Watch his hands.

As I stood there, a truck careened toward the front door, stopping right in front. Doors quickly opened and two guys exited and walked inside, dressed in full bounty hunting gear. Bulletproof vests. Handcuffs in their back pocket. Radio on the side. Gun holsters. Stun guns on the hip. Their badges hung over their chests on a chain that went around their necks.

I sighed. I had the right place.

Channing said he was going to hook me up for a job since my first one didn’t take. To say I’d been floundering the last two months would be an understatement. I was up a creek with no paddle. But if anyone asked how I was doing, totally fine, all good, all set, all smiles (said with a straight face) and yeah, totally lying through my gritted teeth.

I wasn’t fine.

I was so far from fine, but I didn’t know what to do about anything right now.

This was foreign territory for me.

I used to think I’d never leave Roussou. It’s where I grew up. I laughed, loved, cried, bled, suffered, and persevered through so much there. A future outside of Roussou was not something in my wheelhouse of possibilities, but then everything shifted, and somehow here I was. I was living in a house with Cross, Zellman, and Jordan. All of them were attending Cain University and seemingly loving it.

Which I hated. Don’t call me bitter. Just call me the friend that feared was getting left behind. It was a lonely club, a table of one.

But it was what it was.

Zellman was the one who took to college like a fish in water. I think that surprised everyone because Zellman was never known as the academic one, but he loved classes. He loved the parties. He loved the football games. He really loved the college girls since he was officially not dating anyone. Now, don’t ask me how he was doing in those classes because I had a feeling that was a whole different story.

Jordan and Cross seemed fine, but there were other issues going on with both of them. The most dramatic was Jordan’s breakup with Tabatha.

She’d come to Cain for him. He ended things a week after classes started and the shit hath hitteth the faneth.

Tab went back to Bitch Tab and that meant she became friends real quick with a sorority at Cain U, and guess whom they all hated? My crew. Our house. Jordan was banned from attending any sorority and fraternity party on campus. At first, she tried to ban all of us, and I have to include Cross and myself because we went to a few parties, but they weren’t really our thing, but it was really only Zellman who had an issue with her ban.

We had a sit-down with Tab, reminded her of our crew roots.

She then amended her ban to exclude only Jordan, which I didn’t think Jordan cared about. Lately he’d been making friends with other girls, the non-sorority type. That was the best way to explain them because they didn’t really look different than the sorority girls, or act differently, but they were just not in sororities.

But again, Zellman was a lover of all parties and any parties.

It still seemed weird when he’d go to a party without any of us, but I was guessing it was growing pains? We were in a new place, a new school (or they were), and a new stage in our lives. We were growing, but to me that just meant we were all going our own ways, which sucked. Majorly. But it was inevitable.

So yeah, seeing as I was the only one not in college, I tried to go the mature route. I even took a course so I could get certified and work in a hospital. The job was boring, and I took attitude from some nurses. Some were cool. Some were snobs. Some were alcoholics. And some were like drill sergeants.

That job just hadn’t been for me, that is, until I met some bounty hunters who came in with a knife wound.

There was a conversation between us and now I was standing outside this bowling alley that needed a paint job badly. The trim was faded. The paint was stripped off in most places. The sign needed a tune-up.

It was four in the afternoon, and there were six cars in the parking lot.

I had no clue if that was good business or not.

The front door was painted red, half of the color was gone.

Add that to the missing A lighted letter neon sign, and I was sensing a whole theme. Desperation and apathy.

I headed inside, hearing the squeak that mimicked the sound of a screeching cat. Heading inside was like night and day. The sun was blinding outside. Inside, hot and dark. They had no air-conditioning, hence the six cars, because I was seeing there were only two people bowling. A guy and a girl, on what looked like an awkward date. Stiff shoulders and all. The guy seemed like he had to adjust his hard-on when the girl bent over to bowl. In an un-air-conditioned bowling alley.

Extremely awkward date.

She came back, a shy grin on her face as he stood, his dick adjusted in a move she didn’t take note of but should’ve because it was hard not to be obvious about it. The lanes were all lit up, the same red neon lighting as the theme that mirrored the exterior, yet this ran the length of the place. Walls. Booths. Tables. The shelves for the bowling balls. All lit up with that red color. There was a snack bar in one section. The other section was filled with pool tables, air hockey, and other arcade games.

Behind the register, which was a combination bar, a girl was reading over something on a piece of paper. Girl, or maybe a woman? She looked young, but there were some age lines under her eyes, as if she’d seen too much in the world. Hell, maybe seen too much in this place. Her face was striking, almost gaunt angles and oval-shaped. Wide-set dark eyes. Her eyebrows looked threaded, like they were braided, which matched her hair. I’d never seen eyebrows like that, but I was actually surprised. I would’ve thought they’d look stupid. They didn’t. They looked artistic, but like I said before, they matched her hair. She had an almost Viking hairstyle, with her hair shaved on the sides with a thick French braid crossing around and over the shaved sides…on both sides. And she had another at the top of her hair, mingling with the rest that was loose. Slicked back, even.

I started toward her and she glanced over.

I faltered, seeing her makeup. Dark, smoky eyes and a matte-color red over her lips, making her look somewhat like a modern-day warrior. It was badass, that’s what it was. And I wasn’t someone who was ever impressed with other chicks.

I lifted my chin in a greeting, my hands sliding into my back pockets. “My brother told me to ask for Hawk or Brock?” Was this Brock?

Her eyes cooled. She turned to face me, a halter strap, black tank top that showed off two round tribal tattoos going around her biceps. “Who’s your brother?”

“Channing Monroe.”

Surprise flared before a more welcoming tone came from her. The chilly effect was gone. “Oh. Sorry about that. I’m Hawk.”

Really? She was Hawk? I expected a guy, but okay. It fit her look.

She held her hand out, and I crossed the last few steps, giving hers a shake.

There I go. More adulting. I’d graduated onto actual handshakes now.

“Bren Monroe.”

“Yeah.” She motioned for me to follow her and moved down the bar. She said as we went, “You met Gramps and Bonnie, right? At the ER?”

I nodded.

She lifted up a counter and I moved past her, then she moved into a back room. She walked and talked, going down a hallway. “They said they met a girl who worked there. Don’t remember how they said the conversation went, but found out you were related to Channing Monroe. Your brother’s big in our world. He’s new but making waves, and people have started to reach out to him.” She paused outside a door, eyeing me, studying me. “Helps with your dad’s connections, too.”

I didn’t blink, or move, or show any reaction, but inside, my lungs wailed. I felt like an invisible bat had been swung and got me smack in the chest. It was a dull hit, though. Not painful, but shocking. But all she saw was me, my mask always in place, and a faint nod back to her. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

I waited, studying her back as she was still observing me.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, and then she chuckled softly to herself. “Right. Heard about his release. Gotta be something to celebrate, right?”

My tone was dry. “Right.” I followed her inside the room.

It was a small office, one that reminded me of Heather’s at Manny’s. There were a few filing cabinets in the corner, but mostly paper everywhere. The entire office was messy, and she grabbed a file off a chair, dusted off a few specks of dirt, and lifted the handcuffs that had been hanging over the back. Both items were dropped on her desk as she sat in a rolling chair. She nodded to the emptied chair. “Have a seat.”

I did, taking everything in.

There were plaques and framed photographs all over the wall, from floor to ceiling. I recognized the two I already met at the hospital, Gramps and Bonnie. They introduced themselves as a married couple, both in their sixties, but both who kept in shape. They’d been tanned and weathered, telling me they spent most of their time outside. Bonnie’s hair had been loose, but there was curl in it that I guessed had been from overnight curlers. A smattering of white hair showed me she needed a new dye job, but it was enough that also told me she didn’t really care about doing the dye job. The white had looked nice on her, made her almost elegant.

Gramps had silver white hair, a hairy mustache, too. Neither was combed through.

Thinking back to our conversation in the ER, both were cracking jokes the entire time Gramps was there to have a stab wound looked at. They had even caused me to break my typical Bren protocol. They caught me smiling at them, an actual genuine smile after one joke where Bonnie laid her hand and head on her man’s arm.

I had that with Cross, and I hoped to always have that, but I felt my mom around me at that moment. I missed my mom right then, something fierce.

Bonnie asked my name, asked my last name, and when they told me they were bounty hunters, I mentioned I knew a few. The conversation happened at light speed after that. I left work that night thinking I needed to find another job. It was a good job, but it just wasn’t me, and when I opened my phone, Channing had left a text. Gramps and Bonnie had gotten in touch after they were released from the ER, and he said they had a job offer for me.

Hence me being here.

“So, you’re technically an intern.”

Well, fuck. I needed to get paid.

Hawk’s mouth curved up. She held a hand up. “But don’t worry. That’s only the name of your position, but it is paid, and you’ll transition into an office assistant almost right away.” She had a pile of papers in her hand and her eyes narrowed, tracking my every emotion. Or would’ve if I had been showing any. I knew I wasn’t. I’d been professionally locked down since my mother died.

So, I waited.

See…I get that I wasn’t being normal.

I’m young. I’m new to this world, and this town, and I was still just starting out on the exploratory trek of finding what the hell I wanted to do in the world, but the usual roles that I should be portraying, the ones that spoke of my background and upbringing, I wasn’t. I wasn’t new, or innocent, or eager. I wasn’t ambitious. I wasn’t hopeful.

I was jaded.

I was tired.

Give me a fight to break up and I’d wade in without a second thought; that was the world I was comfortable in. If she was hoping to get a new recruit, someone ready to ask how high when told to jump—I needed to make sure she was disappointed from the very start. That was me. That was who I was. Doing my thing.

“You don’t say much.”

I cracked a grin at that. “My brother’s the charming one.”

She leaned back in her chair slowly. The papers were pushed back, and she moved her chair to face me more fully. The way she was looking at me, I had a feeling she was about to lay some ground-moving shit out there. Or it would be in her opinion.

I wasn’t holding my breath for it.

She raised her chin up, just slightly. “Can you type?”

“Graduated school.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Can you keep shit quiet?”

“Only telling you my name because I have to.”

Her mouth flattened a second. She pushed forward, resting her elbows on her knees. That same surveying look didn’t waver. “Can you fight?”

“Yes.”

“You in school?”

“No.”

“You want to go to school?”

“I’m here first.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What does that even mean?”

I tipped my chin up this time, my tone a little cooler. I’d just been rock steady before. “Means that’s my personal business and not yours.” The truth is that I didn’t know what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go. But who was she for me to explain all of that to? I took a breath. “My brother wouldn’t want me to come in here and be disrespectful, I have to add on, ‘no offense.’” I turned up one corner of my own mouth, letting it fall the next beat. “You want to know about me? I’m a fighter. I ain’t no bounty hunter. Never shot a gun, wore a vest, used a Taser, and honestly, never wanted to do or use any of those. But your people found me in a job that I didn’t like being in, and I’m here for the next four years, at least. I need to do something. I need to make money. Somehow my brother thought this would work for me. If you know my brother, people tend to trust him. I guess this is me trusting him.”

Her eyes inched closed the more and more I spoke.

At the end, she held her head up, straightening back as if she thought I was a snake about to strike. “I don’t know your brother, but I’ve heard his reputation. I’m trying to assess if you’re going to be a gigantic pain in my ass or not.”

“No.”

She didn’t flinch. “Then I’m also trying to determine if you’ll be a danger to my people or not.”

Iflinched on the inside. “No.”

I had a bit more bite in my tone.

Her eyes opened wider, just a centimeter. She heard that, too. “You didn’t like that, huh?”

I didn’t respond.

She didn’t look like she thought I was going to respond and, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment, she let out a sigh. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the papers and handed them to me. “Fill those out. Come back tomorrow at five, dress in all black.”

I grabbed the papers and stood. “Five in the afternoon?”

She shook her head, a smile starting. “Nope.” She was almost beaming when I turned to go. “Hey, Bren.”

I looked back.

The smile was gone. In its place was something dark, so dark that her face didn’t show it. I only knew it was there because I felt it deep inside of me. “No matter the job description on paper, you’ll be going on ride-alongs. If you remain here, you’ll progress. You might even want to take the test in the future. Either way, you’ll be in dangerous situations alongside my people. If you do anything stupid to put them in danger, you’re out. I don’t give a rat’s ass about what connections you might be bringing to my family. You got me?”

I didn’t respond. I got her, and she saw that I got her. No words needed.

I opened the door, papers in hand, and I left.

FROM: Brenners

TO: Tazsters

SUBJECT:

Typing this as I’m waiting for your brother. Tell me what’s new with you?

FROM: Tazsters

TO: Brenners

SUBJECT: OMG!!!!!

OMG! HOW ARE YOU? I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH!

Things are good here. I’m LOVING my roommate, but I think she’s got a thing for Race. She told me she like boxers A LOT and then looked right at Race. It got uncomfortable as fuck, and I’m not down with it.

I miss you guys so much.

Have you seen Blaise much? I talk to him.

Okay. I have a late class so I have to go.

LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

—The Best Twin