CREW PRINCESS (Crew #2)

Chapter Three

I loved Cross.

Best friends since seventh grade, crew members—we’d been inseparable, but we kept things platonic while he’d been a slight manwhore. All that stopped at the beginning of the school year. Things went a way we could never take back, and that was the us we were now.

I rode alongside him in the truck. It was nearing ten at night. We’d talked Race into being our eyes and ears at the country club—because we’d helped him out last year, he returned the favor. He’d agreed to stay at the party (ignoring Taz’s requests to leave for the bonfire) and keep an eye on Cross’ dad and his date.

Cross’ phone buzzed once again. It’d been going off since we left Roussou. Jordan turned in to a ritzy neighborhood, high up on some hill. All the houses were fancy.

“What’s the latest?” Jordan asked.

“Thirteen,” Cross replied.

We all grinned. Taz had asked Race for the thirteenth time to go to the bonfire.

Cross sent back a text.

“What’d you say?” Zellman stuck his head in through the back window.

Cross put his phone back into his pocket, glancing over his shoulder. “I told him to give us thirty minutes; then they can leave.”

“Thirty?” I asked as Jordan paused in front of a mansion. “You sure about that?”

Just eyeballing the place, I could tell it had security. A lot of security. There was a gate, a camera at the top.

This was not a good idea.

“Shit.” Jordan hit the steering wheel, leaning over to get a better look. “Cross. Man—”

I finished for him. “We scale that fence, I guarantee an alarm is going to the police, and they’re not that far from here—just down the hill over there. We can’t get in here.”

Cross glared at the house, a vein sticking out from his neck. “This is the f*****g address he gave my mom. It was written on the paper next to her computer in her office. What the f**k does his girlfriend do at Kade Enterprises?” He leaned out the window, as if the mansion or the ritzy street could give us the answers.

Me? I’d moved on. I knew we weren’t getting into that place, but this neighborhood? I couldn’t believe people actually lived here. Every lawn was manicured, at least the ones we could see through the gates.

There were no cracks in the sidewalk. A few trees had crystal lights on them. Palm trees dotted the streets. All their streetlights worked. A lady was walking a little dog on a pink leash, and I was pretty sure there were diamonds on the dog’s collar. Maybe just sequins? Either way, they was rich. That was for damn sure.

I felt two inches tall.

The lady eyed us as she drew closer, and she looked right at me. Suspicion flared, her hand going into her pocket.

“Gotta go,” I muttered.

Her phone was coming out, and she was going to call the cops. I knew it.

Jordan cursed, and he moved to put the truck in drive just as another lady stepped up. She slapped her hand down on the edge of the truck bed.

“The f**k?” Z almost fell backward, scrambling around to see who had got the jump on us.

It was a middle-aged woman, and she ignored us. She was solely focused on the pink-leash-dog-walking lady, the cop-calling one. She smiled wide and raised her hand high, waving, making a big deal out of it. “Hiya, Clara! How are you doing?”

Her voice was loud too, and she was doing it on purpose.

Z scowled at her. “Lady, let go of our truck.”

Her hand tightened.

Jordan opened his door and started around to her side.

She continued talking, her hand still in the air. “How’s Gordon doing? Did you call Brentworth’s firm? I know they’re excellent at defending their clients.” She gave a forced laugh, but it was a hearty one. “It never matters if they’re guilty, and don’t you worry about your Gordon. Even if he goes in for a little bit, I’m sure they’ll send him to a day-camp sort of place.”

The dog-walking woman had frozen, but after the lady gripping the truck kept on, her voice getting louder and louder, the dog walker finally yanked her dog around and hauled ass back the way they had come.

“Lady,” Jordan growled, now at her side. “You need to let go of my truck. Now.”

She waited, her eyes following the dog walker until she turned a corner. Finally stepping away, she removed her hand and moved toward the front of the truck. She came slowly, her hands out like she was being arrested. Her eyes found mine and held them, until all four of us were staring at her.

She raised her chin in the air, her hands going to her sides. “I know you.”

Jordan moved up, just outside of Cross’ door. He looked at me. Z had jumped out, coming to stand next to Jordan. He looked over too.

Cross raised his chin in challenge. His tone was chilled. “Who the f**k are you?”

She ignored him, her eyes only on me. “You’re Monroe’s little sister, aren’t you?” She nodded to herself. “Yeah. Yeah. You are. I knew your mother, way back when. She and I used to run around together. Got into all sorts of problems.” She lowered her head, her mouth forming a somber line. “I’ve not told anyone that. You know me?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Her chest rose, and her mouth turned down before her head bobbed again. “I figured as such. I didn’t know if she’d say anything. I’m Malinda Decraw-Strattan.”

She said that like I should know it.

I shook my head. “I don’t know you.”

Her nostrils flared. “You’re Channing’s sister, right?”

I didn’t answer.

Her eyes narrowed. “Heather Jax’s fiancé, right? He proposed.”

I still didn’t respond.

She huffed out, “Are you serious? Or are you shitting me? Heather’s best friend is my stepdaughter.” She waited again for a response.

I knew who she was talking about, but not until now. Channing knew everyone in Roussou. Heather knew a whole ton of people from both towns. Someone saying they knew them didn’t mean s**t to me.

But the best friend part clicked into place.

A person needed a family tree to understand all the connections, but I’d listened enough to know she was talking about Samantha Kade—the Olympic runner married to a pro footballer. Yeah, even someone like me who didn’t care a lot about fame and names was a little awed by that. But that wasn’t why I cared. Samantha was a good friend to Heather. That’s what I cared about, and the Patriot was friends with my brother. They’d come to visit a few times. Every time, I vanished. That was their life, not mine.

“Yeah.” Malinda had been watching me the whole time. “Now you’re getting it all. Samantha’s my stepdaughter. I married the daddy who raised her.” She flicked her gaze over the guys, lingering on Cross before moving to Jordan, then Zellman. “You boys play sports?”

Jordan didn’t answer.

Cross said nothing.

Zellman looked at me, then her, then the others. “Are we...she’s a friend, right? Not an enemy? Can I answer that question?”

Jordan flicked his eyes to the sky. “f**k’s sakes, Z.”

“What? B, you never said you knew Coach Strattan’s wife.” He held his hand out, striding over. “I play ball. I mean, not with our school because our team sucks, but I play in the summer leagues. We’re starting up in May. And I know all about your husband. He turned around Fallen Crest Public’s football team. They went to State after he transferred over.”

Her lips curved up. Her eyes were twinkling. “You follow sports?”

“Oh yeah. What guy doesn’t?” He looked back, saw all of us just watching, and cleared his throat. “What? Like Cross isn’t going to ask about whatserface. You know he is. Stop glaring at me. I’m just beating you to the punch.”

Malinda’s grin turned warmer, and she moved closer to the door. “My house is the back one. Was taking my garbage out and saw your truck slowing down, and no offense, but you guys don’t blend. And you really don’t blend this time of night. I know you ain’t a group of criminals, but a bit of friendly advice from a mama bear to someone who I consider connected through family. Because Bren, honey, Channing, and Heather are family to us, so that means you’re family.” She looked at the guys. “You all might want to head out. I’m fairly certain a call went to the police as soon as you pulled onto the street.”

Jordan’s lips thinned. “If you all are that stuck-up, why the f**k don’t you have a gated community?”

She laughed. “Because that costs more money, and we all need to agree on the same rules. You really don’t know this block, do you? We got a fair bit of enemies living across the street from each other. That means no rules are ever agreed on, so no gate. We all just do our own.”

Cross’ phone buzzed. He cursed as soon as he read it.

Jordan eyed him. “They took off?”

“Shit.” Cross looked at me, indecision clear in his gaze.

We were in a bad spot.

But I didn’t like asking for help.

I asked under my breath, “Can we come back?”

He lowered his voice. “You know we can’t get in there, even if we wanted to.” He held my gaze, but moved his head in the direction of this Malinda person. “Should you ask? Or should we figure it out some other way?”

Jordan’s head was down. I knew he was listening, being the closest to our door and open window, but he didn’t say anything.

Z was quiet too, until he threw his hands in the air. “Enough’s enough. I’m deciding. All of us suck at computer stuff, and that’s the only way we’re going to find anything out.” He nodded at the house we’d been scoping out. “You know who lives there? Can you tell us anything about her?”

Malinda glanced at the home, her eyebrows went up, and she turned back to us. Slowly. “You’re asking about Marie?” She laughed. “Marie DeVroe. She moved here a couple months ago, divorced from her husband.”

She was studying me again.

Those eyes. Warm, earth-toned, but damn smart too. Her brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She was dressed in jeans and a nice shirt—almost like us, but I knew she wasn’t like us. I didn’t know why she kept referencing me, as if we should know each other. That world she came from was a million miles from mine. Yeah, there was a bridge, Heather and my brother, but the bridge was long and slim. Not much space for even them to go back and forth, as much as they did. Heather was more on Malinda’s side of the bridge than Channing, but I wasn’t on the bridge. I wasn’t anywhere close to it.

Cross was waiting for a signal from me, whether to press for more information or not.

I was torn.

Malinda’s eyes danced among us. She straightened up, her arms crossing over her chest. “Okay. I think I’m starting to get some of what is going on. You want to know about Marie? I’ll give you the rich-folks stats. And I’m doing this because I used to love your mama. She was the best kind of friend a girl could have, but back to DeVroe. She’s got money. Rumor is that she comes from old money back east. Her net worth is around fifteen million, but that’s all just gossip, you see.”

She pointed to a gate farther down. It wasn’t enough to hide the massive home behind it, which looked big enough to swallow up four or five homes. “She keeps to herself, is in her middle thirties. Nice, from what I’ve seen. Hasn’t gotten involved in any scandal so far. She works human resources for Kade Enterprises, and she freelances as a decorator.”

Cross scoffed, jerking forward.

At his reaction, her eyes lit up in triumph. She sized him up, angling her head to get a better view. “Oh, wow. Look at you. You’ve got a model face, don’t you.” She grinned, tapping her chin. “That jawline could melt women’s panties across the nation.” She looked from him to me. “You two a thing?” She stepped back with a knowing look. “I think I’m piecing things together. I heard Marie took up a new boyfriend, met him at a work event recently. She was called in to decorate a few new offices. Hmmm... Is that someone you know?” A smirk tugged her mouth. “Your father, maybe?”

That gorgeous jaw of his closed, and he straightened, staring straight ahead.

Cross’ leg had been like cement when she first started, but the more she spoke, the more that cement melted to wet clay. He wouldn’t look at her, but he was listening.

I knew he clung to everything she said.

We weren’t the way she was.

She was warm. I couldn’t tell if she was trusting, but she came up to us not knowing who we were to do us a solid. That meant something to us, even if we were being d***s about it. Zellman would’ve been halfway to being her best friend by now, but he was holding back because we were holding back. And I was holding back because she represented a world connected to mine that I never thought I’d step foot into. That was all. I didn’t know how to proceed. Trusting adults wasn’t our forte either.

I did remember Heather mentioning her friend’s mother. There were two, if I was remembering right. One wasn’t spoken about in warm tones, but the other was. I guessed this was the one who was.

Giving her a nod and a small smile, I said, “Thank you.”

“There it is.” She dipped her head in approval. “Heather’s talked about you. I always wondered, knowing your mama, but I never said a word—not even your brother knows I knew his mama. You’ve got her beauty. I heard about your father. I’m sorry for what happened. You might not know it, but I am a friend.” She winked at Zellman. “I ain’t no enemy of yours, you can ask Heather, though…” She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think you will, will you? If I’m feeling you right, you keep your cards to your chest. These guys are part of those cards, ain’t they?”

She was almost having her own conversation, but she was right. Each of her words pierced me.

She rapped softly on Jordan’s hood. “You want to hear stories about some crazy adventures your mama got involved in; you look me up. I’ll tell you all about her one night.” She backed off, circling around us and giving a small wave. “I’ll be seeing you folks, I’m sure.”

And with that, as Zellman stared after her (the only one of us waving back), she made her exit. We waited a beat, and then Jordan started laughing. “f**k. I don’t know who that lady was, or any of the people she was talking about, but she owned us.”

Cross was grinning along with them, which eased my shoulders. Air moved through my lungs more freely.

Jordan came back around and got behind the wheel.

Zellman hopped up on the back. He stuck his head through the window as Jordan started the engine again. “You don’t know who Mason Kade is? He was drafted to the Pats and already has two rings. Can you believe that? Bren, you know him?”

“No.”

I didn’t.

“Channing’s friends with him.”

He said it as a statement, but it was more a question.

I didn’t answer, sinking into Cross’ side. “Let’s just go to that stupid bonfire.”

For the first time in a long while, I wanted a beer.

Cross said, “We gotta pick up some of our own s**t. The Academy assholes roofie their dates.”

For the briefest of seconds, I had forgotten.

But oh yeah.

I hated Fallen Crest Crusties.