Always Crew by Tijan

BREN

After we took the bail jumper to jail, Channing and Moose met us back at the offices.

Justin was behind the register, helping out a group of guys and handing them their shoes. He watched us come in, all of us wearing our vests with an almost bored look on his face. Seeing my face, surprise tightened his features, and his head reared back a little. Then his gaze trailed behind me, and I knew he was seeing my brother. His eyes got bigger.

Then he hit Moose, and they were half-crawling into his forehead.

Yeah. Moose had that effect.

Gramps and Bonnie were there, both smiling wide when they saw Channing. There were hugs, greetings. A good pat on my back from Gramps. His hand took hold of my shoulder, and he squeezed in affection. “What’d I tell you?” He was speaking to Brock. “Told you she was a good one.”

Bonnie moved in, brushing her hair back before she gave me a hug. “So proud of you, honey.”

Hawk was grabbing some coffee.

Why they kept having me bring coffee in when they had their own coffee pot was lost on me, but then again, bought coffee always tasted better somehow. Big and Burly were in the fridge, pulling out food items when we filtered in.

Brock leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He hadn’t taken his vest off. No one had. He lifted his chin toward Channing. “I have to ask, you here for personal, professional, or both?” The real conversation piece was my father, and myself.

Channing’s gaze was on me as he answered, “Both.”

Moose went to join Big and Burly. They motioned for him to help himself to the sandwiches, and he started piling his own together.

“Then I have to ask, is your father coming here for his daughter or the Red Demons?”

I leaned back against the wall in my corner, listening, but not speaking up.

A darkness flitted in Channing’s gaze before he blinked, and it was gone. He shifted, turning to Brock. “How about you tell me about the Red Demons? I’ve done some research, but not enough.”

Brock’s eyes flitted closed a second as he began frowning. Then, his eyes still on Channing and he flattened his mouth. “I’d think you could tell us, actually. Heard you have something I’d like back.”

Channing’s eyes darkened. “Sure.” He dug in his pocket and tossed a USB in the air.

Brock caught it, cradling it where he did, and his eyes narrowed at my brother. “Something tells me this isn’t the only copy?”

“Nope.” Channing shook his head. “But can you really stand there and say I don’t have a right to what’s on there?”

Brock’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t answer.

And Channing’s head dipped down. “Let’s go over what you might need to know. Maxwell Raith helped me out with a situation. That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Bren’s not involved with the Red Demons. Neither am I. We’re not involved with our father.” My brother leveled him with a look. “And I’m hoping you’re not suggesting there’s anything more there, because if you were, then that’d be an insult. I wouldn’t want myself or my sister being insulted by you.”

A pregnant pause descended over the group after that.

Big and Burly had been sitting in two of the chairs, sandwiches on their plates. They froze.

Moose’s back was turned to us. He’d been reaching for a slice of cheese. He froze.

Hawk turned back to the group from pouring her coffee, her eyes going to Brock, me, my brother, and back to Brock.

Gramps blustered forward, “No, no, no.” He was waving his hand in the air, big smiles on his face. His voice came out sounding uneasy. “Of course, no disrespect was meant. Brock’s like you, I’m assuming. He’s dogged and thorough, and dedicated to not only doing his job, but also ensuring the safety of all our team members.” His eyes darted in my direction as he finished. His meaning was clear.

But Channing didn’t speak. He was waiting for Brock’s answer.

A slight growl in frustration came from him. “We kept your sister out of the loop for her sake. We didn’t want to put her in a potentially harmful position. After a brief exchange when we first hired her, we’ve not asked her about the Red Demons again, but since you’re here and since we got a tip that the Red Demons are more focused on our team than normal, I need to know everything you know.”

“Then you know more than I do.”

“Is your father coming here to watch us, or is he coming here for his daughter?”

Channing didn’t respond.

Moose finished placing his cheese on his sandwich and looked over his shoulder to his own boss.

I was waiting myself.

Finally, Channing said, “I can’t answer that.” His gaze found mine, and he almost looked apologetic. “He’s been on an apology tour lately. He’s going to come and apologize to you. That’s all I can say about his intentions.”

“So he’s already here.” That came from my boss.

Channing said to me, “He wants to have dinner with us. You and me.”

Moose finished putting his sandwich together and turned around, holding it on a plate. He beamed. “Good old Derrick Monroe doesn’t know that I’m coming along.”

I hid a grin, but my head was swimming. Some of the adrenaline was wearing off from my tackle. The aches and the cuts on my hand from where I fell into the shrubbery were starting to throb. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

My tone came out meek, and I cursed because everyone’s attention went high at that.

Channing stepped forward. “You okay?”

My head was pounding, and I remembered that the jump had barreled into me, slamming me to the ground first. That side where he got me was throbbing. I raised a hand up to my face, cupping my cheek and hissed. “Bren?”

Shetland remarked, “She took a hit before she took the guy down.”

Hawk cursed, putting her coffee down. She moved to me, throwing Shetland a nasty look. “And you’re saying this now?”

He shrugged. “She said she was fine. She tackled him, for God’s sake.”

The room started moving around me. I blinked, trying to slow it down, but it went faster and faster.

“She might have a concussion.” That sounded like Channing. “Where’d she get hit?”

Another voice, this one sounding like Brock said, “I’d guess where she’s holding herself. Bren, you need to go to the hospital?”

Moose snickered. Or I thought it was Moose. “Dude, you so don’t know the Monroes.”

Someone moved toward me. Two people moved toward me.

A hand on my shoulder, that one felt soft, feminine.

Another took my arm, and they were bending in front of me. “Bren.” It was my brother. I kept blinking, trying to slow the room down, but it wasn’t working. He lowered his voice even more, concern edging in. “Do you have to go in?”

I grasped onto his arm and held firm. Maybe he could stop the room.

I was starting to feel nauseous.

Whatever I had in my stomach was coming up. Fast.

“She’s pale.”

My mouth clamped tight. I wasn’t going to throw up. Everything would be fine. This was not a big deal, not a deal at all. Definitely not big.

Channing’s hand grew tighter on me. “I gotta take her, just to be safe.”

Hawk said, “I’ll come with you. She’ll want another girl with her.”

She didn’t know me, but that thought was brief and fleeting, and why was my head hurting so bad?

I heard someone else snort. “She doesn’t know that Monroe either.”

I was being walked across the room, then led outside.

There was conversation happening behind me, but I couldn’t make out the individual voices or what they were saying. I was only aware of being led out into the sun, blinking and hissing, and feeling nauseous all over again. Then I was in a truck, my brother’s. I recognized the smell of bullets and coffee, and behind me I felt a dip in the truck.

The door opened.

Hawk scooted in, taking the side by the window. I was in the middle.

Channing came around, getting behind the wheel, and then Hawk gave us directions to the hospital.

After that, everything else just sucked.