Always Crew by Tijan

CROSS

Channing picked up after the first ring. “Is Bren okay?”

All the clothes were burned. Maybe Bren was right and I was overreacting. I’d rather be safe than sorry, but I still needed to get this call over with. And I was tired. I was so tired. I turned for the house, going to the patio table and sat down. “Yes.”

He sighed on his end. I heard rustling sounds, something creaking. Channing yawned as he said, “I’m assuming I don’t want to hear what’s going to be said over this call. It’s almost four in the morning.”

“Probably not.”

“Fuck.”

I wasn’t one to waste time. “You haven’t called Bren this week. Why is that?”

“Say what?”

“You haven’t called all week, about the raid. Why haven’t you?”

Channing was quiet a second. “How’s that your business?”

Because Bren was my business. But I answered, “Bren wasn’t satisfied with your non-answers when you called her last week. So she called your father, instead.” He swore from his end. “Dammit.”

“He told her about the raid.”

“What else did he say?”

“Just that there was a raid and that law enforcement only got four out of the thirty arrest warrants. Bren said they were keeping her out of the office all week, but I have to tell you that we went bowling there tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and her boss was there. The Brock guy. He watched her the whole night.”

“What?” Channing’s tone was low, and tight.

“He was watching all of us, like we weren’t a surprise to him. He was studying us.”

“Studying you?”

“Yeah.”

Channing was quiet again. “They kept her out of the office all week?”

“They get money if they bring in any of those arrests, right?”

“Yeah. Fuck.” It was low and quiet again. It was getting tighter too. “You wouldn’t be the one calling me unless there’s more. Just tell me.”

I leaned forward in my chair. “Let’s say there’s a situation where we hypothetically stole one of the employee’s key card.”

“What? Wait. Bren didn’t have one?”

“They never gave her a card.”

“Shit. That’s weird.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter because hypothetically maybe a few things aligned where I was able to find a room that had—”

“What did you do?” He bit out, “Was my sister there?”

I was silent.

He groaned. “Fuuuuck, Cross!”

More silence from me.

He growled. “Just tell me what you found. Hypothetically–”

“A room with your pictures on the wall.”

What?

“Your dad’s picture. Bren’s picture. My picture. Yours. Everyone in your life. Maxwell Raith on another wall. I’m assuming pictures of other Red Demons.”

He was quiet again, then clipped out, “How many others?”

“There were three walls. Your dad. Maxwell Raith. Another guy’s.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“I don’t know, but I took pictures of the pictures.”

“Good. I want them. All of them.”

“They’re on my phone.”

“Get a computer. Download them into a password-protected drive, and email that to me. Not via text. I want the drive password protected. You can do that?”

“Sure.” That wasn’t a problem. “But I’ll only do that if you loop us in.”

More silence. From him. From his end.

“What?”

I stood. I hadn’t known I was going to take this stand, but here I was. Standing, literally, for Bren. I kept the phone pressed to my ear as I glanced at the house. The inside was all dark. A light from down the hall was lit up. Bren was in that room, waiting.

“You’ve benched your sister enough with this stuff.”

“She’s not old—”

“She’s here. She’s living with her boyfriend—”

“I’d think you’d want to ingratiate yourself with me on this one?”

“She’s taking a serious job and trying to figure her shit out. She’s not going to college. She’s not taking the extra four years to ‘find herself’ and figure out what theories and philosophers she thinks can blow smoke up someone’s ass. She’s in the work field. She’s figuring it out, and she’s doing that alone. Her job, people you sent her way, and yeah, only Bren thinks that that was all a coincidence, but a dumbass could see your move from a mile away—these people are icing her out. I don’t know why, but I know it’s affecting her. Staffing a bowling alley is decent work if that’s what she signed up for. She didn’t sign up for that, and that’s what they have her doing. You were updated from our end about Sweets. We’ve told you about Harper—”

“Not that you beat the shit out of him. Yeah,” he bit into the phone, his voice savage. “You didn’t loop me in on that little detail.”

Fine. I nodded, not that he could see me. “Just so you know, that was your sister’s handiwork. She worked him over because she’s the one who could stop before it went too far. The rest of us, fuck no.”

“That kid—”

“That kid admitted that he knew Tabatha was touching him against her will. He knew the whole time. He did nothing about it except take advantage of the situation.”

I waited, my pulse picking up. Even thinking about Harper, hearing his admission, and I was gripping the phone so tight I was surprised it hadn’t shattered.

“He did?”

“He did. She went dark for us. She didn’t want to, but she did. So have her back.”

“I’m not—”

“I know, but we’re not kids anymore. Your sister’s certainly not. She’s not been a kid in forever, and last semester when you took care of the cop and Drake, she chose that. She wanted you to handle that, so she didn’t have to. She let you in, but she’s at a point in her life where she needs to be looped in. It’s what keeps her from going dark, man.”

Quiet again.

Another beat, and then Channing sighed. It was long and drawn-out. “Having our dad back is going to mess her up. I was worried. I didn’t think she was ready to deal with him.”

“She’s not, but she’s letting us know when she’s ready and when she isn’t. I’m just saying, when it’s coming to this new stuff going on around him, because it’s affecting her job, you need to start thinking of her as an adult. It’s the only way she’s going to be able to handle whatever storm that’s coming. She has to see it first, then get prepared, so she can deal with the fallout.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you.”

My hand flexed, almost dropping the phone. I caught it and rubbed a hand over my face.

That’d been intense.

Channing added, “Nothing’s happening on the Harper front. The girl is here. The kid got worked over, but as far as we know, he’s not said who did it. I don’t even know if Harper, Sr. knows about it, so a heads-up, when the kid talks, you might have another kind of storm heading your way. It’s not if, it’s when. Always when. Plan for the when.”

“Got it.” Shit.

“I just heard Heather get up for the bathroom so I’m going to go. Take care of my sister, and thank you for the call. Do the email immediately tomorrow.”

I nodded again, then forgot he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. On it.”

“Hey, Cross.”

“Yeah?”

“Watch Bren more than you think you should. She’s going to snap one of these days about our dad. It’s coming. I just know it.”

A burn started to spread through me, but he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Bren would snap, but Bren needed to snap. He wasn’t getting that part.

“I will.”

He hung up after that.

I let the phone drop. Catching it in my palm, I pocketed it. Man. Channing wasn’t the only one tired. I felt as if a semi had sideswiped me, crushing my legs.

I checked on the fire and noted everything had burned, then headed inside.

Plan for the when, he said.

A storm was coming. We needed to plan for it.

FROM: Cross

TO: Tazsters

SUBJECT: Re: blank on purpose

Love you. Miss you. I’ll call you later this weekend.

—I’m always the best twin