Always Crew by Tijan

BREN

“Boss.” A guy moved toward them from the bar. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He was tall, looked around in his fifties, but the years in the sun gave his skin an almost leathery tanned look. The whites in his eyes were almost startling, and those eyes were hard. There was an edge of irritation to him, too.

“I’m fine.” Maxwell was staring at me as he responded, then he switched and took in my dad. “Derrick.”

“Max.” My dad moved around me, suddenly a lot more tense than he’d been before. He swung an arm toward me. “She, uh…she’s angry.”

“I know what she is.” He stepped more fully into the bar, and the other two moved with him. The last one stepped clear of the door, letting it shut, and the bar was back in darkness for a brief moment. Maxwell came over toward us, still watching me, but he moved to greet my dad. “Derrick. It’s damned good to see you.” They thumped each other on the back.

I was transfixed.

My dad was grinning. He was happy.

I’d only witnessed that look on his face a handful of other times, a couple memories with Mom, and the other times were when he was drunk.

One of the others moved farther inside the bar, disappearing. The other came over, greeting my dad the same. I heard my dad say, “Heckler,” and sucked in my breath. Jesus. This was their president and their enforcer, or one of them, as Channing had put it. That other guy…I hadn’t gotten a good look at him. Was that their VP?

Cross and Jordan moved closer to us, taking up my back.

Maxwell noticed that and skimmed me up and down. “Gotta say, I’m not a fan of riding for three days and walking in to hearing a daughter bitching out her old man. That’s not how things work in our world. Being grateful goes a long fucking way.”

Yeah. Fuck him, too.

I responded, “All due respect, Mr. Raith, that’s family business, and if you think my father’s been a great father to me, then it’s really just family business.”

The other biker who’d come with him was staring at me. He had white hair almost all over him, even his beard. And his eyes, they were ice blue, almost a gray/white color as well. He was a bit more solid than Maxwell, built like a square versus the broad shoulders and lean waist build of his president, but there was no mistake, that guy was all muscle. He took his sunglasses from where they’d been shoved on top of his head and smirked. “Derrick, you got a feisty daughter there.”

My dad grunted, moving closer to me. “Don’t I know it. Are you guys passing through town?”

Maxwell pulled his gaze from me to my dad. “We all need to sit down. We’ll talk about it then.” He turned back to me. “Knowing what your brother does now. Now where you ended up taking a job…is this going to be a problem?”

I opened my mouth.

My dad said, “My daughter ain’t a snitch.”

“Even so.” Maxwell nodded to his man. “Take her phone while she’s here.” He looked at Cross and Jordan. “Them too.”

Heckler moved in, an eerie gleam in his grin, showcasing some blinding white teeth. “With pleasure.” He stepped in front of me, eyebrows arched. “Hand ’em over.” His glance went to Cross. “If you don’t, I got no problem searching for ’em. You too, boys.”

“We’ll just keep them while you’re here. Once you leave, Heckler will give them back.” Max’s shoulders suddenly drooped, and he yawned, raking his hand through his hair and beard. “I’m fucking exhausted, Bettina.”

The waitress moved in, her voice caring. “You want a place to rest your head or freshly brewed coffee?”

He took her in, his eyes lingering as he looked at her from top to bottom, then his mouth twitched. “How about a private room, you and me? And then coffee afterwards?”

Her smile turned a whole lot more warm. “You got it, Boss.”

She took his hand, and as she began to lead him away, he looked over his shoulder. “Sort your shit, Derrick, then get your kid out of here. We got church tonight.”

Heckler stuffed all our phones in his pocket, but then he moved away too. A couple girls came over to greet him, and he put his arms around both. They moved to the other side of the bar, and soon, one of the girls was straddling him while the other began rubbing his shoulders. Shrieks of laughter and moaning soon came from his corner.

Everyone else went back to what they’d been doing before, but the mood seemed lighter for some reason. Lighter, but also more serious at the same time.

I was distracted when my dad asked gruffly, “You got more to yell at me about?” A pained expression in his gaze held my tongue, and he added into the pocket of silence, “I am sorry for being a crap father. I know all you said was right, and that I’m in the wrong. I get heated, speaking too fast, but you’re right about all of it. And Channing’s done a great job.” He drew in a breath, those eyes flashing wetness for a second. He raised a hand, touching my shoulder and he had to take a moment. Swallow. Then his head dipped down as he lightly squeezed my shoulder. “He did good. You do what you gotta do, and I mean that in every way.”

I’d been holding in oxygen, and it seemed like I’d been holding it in since he got out of prison.

Hearing his words now, that huge boulder in my stomach dissolved. I was blinking back tears, and I didn’t know how to handle that.

This was not my old dad. He had changed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

His eyes were so sad, but he gave me the smallest smile, his hand squeezing again. “Anytime, honey. But you should go. These guys won’t be here long, so make sure not to call them in. They’ll know it was you, and then, well, there’ll be problems.”

I nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“I didn’t go to your job to use you. Yes, I went to do surveillance, but it was also my excuse to see you. I ain’t perfect. Lord knows how much I ain’t perfect, but I love you and I’ll continue to work on doing right by you. I’m sorry if you thought I was using you. That thought never entered my head, to be honest.”

Cross and Jordan moved in, closing in our small circle.

My dad inclined his head toward them, his hand moving around and pulling me to his side. “I got a long road ahead to make things right, but I’m going to try. That’s a promise I can make, but for now, you all need to get going. Do your thing. College. Studying, whatever it is. Take care of my girl.”

“And her job?” Cross had his head tilted forward and to the side. “Her brother?”

Derrick stiffened, his head raising up. His hand was gentle on me, but his arm was rock solid. “Don’t narc. Let Channing do his job. Let my girl do her job, but no snitching. That ain’t a problem for you guys to take on. You hear me on that? You guys are clear of this, so stay clear.”

Cross’ head dipped again, his gaze meeting mine.

I was at a crossroads, it seemed.

Then the decision was made for me, in that moment.

A guy rushed inside. “Cops coming!”

Another guy yelled out, “Let Prez know. Get the civvies out of here.”

Girls were running around. Guys were dashing. Windows were locked up.

Heckler came over, at a more leisurely stroll and dug inside his pocket. He pulled out the phones, putting them on the table. He said to Derrick, “Get out of here. Your kid, her friends, you. You’re clear of this, Pops. That’s how Max wants it.”

My dad’s fingers now curled tighter into me, but his head jerked up and down. “I’ll be at the house.” His words were for the biker.

Heckler moved his head up and down, staring us down for a beat. “Get a job, Pops. That’s what Max wants for you. Keep clean.” He said to me, “You don’t need to worry about your dad. We got no plans to dirty him, hear that? And we’re taking off. Your boss asks you questions, you don’t say shit. Got it?”

My lips parted. My throat went dry.

I said, “Got it.”

Yeah. Seems like I chose. I was on the side of no-snitching. Then again, when had it ever been an actual question for me? I was crew through and through.

Cross grabbed up the phones and took my arm. “Let’s go. We gotta jet now.” He pulled me toward the door. Jordan was already heading out. When I lingered, he said, “Now!”

So, we went.

I looked back, seeing my dad one last time, and then we were gone.

From: Tazsters

To: Cain Group

Subject: why why why

Why has everyone stopped calling, texting, and emailing. I need my emails. I live for my emails.

Where have all the emails gone?

—The Best Twin