Zellman added, “We don’t believe you’re trying to become our sidekick because Drake told you to do that. That’s weak, man.”

I kept going as if Z hadn’t said a word. “You keep stepping in. All our fights, you’re there helping. We don’t trust Normals, and while we’re grateful for what you did, we can’t let it go anymore. We have to know the real reason for it.”

“You doing all this cause you’re sweet on Bren?” Jordan asked. “Is this all for pussy?”

“Fuck off!” I snapped at him.

He lifted a shoulder. He didn’t seem like he was sorry.

“You think I’m doing this because I want in her pants?” Race asked.

“Why are you doing it?” Cross lifted his chin, his eyes blazing.

Race sat forward, his eyes glazed, like he wasn’t even in the room at the moment. Then he lifted a shoulder like Jordan had done.

“God. Fine. You guys are like bloodhounds. You want to know why I’m helping you?” He glared at all of us. “It’s because I fucking hate my cousin. Okay? Got that? I hate my cousin. I hate his crew. I hate my uncle and my aunt. I hate how it’s their fault that my parents are getting a divorce. I hate everything about their fucking world, and I want to destroy it all.”

I…hadn’t expected that.

“You’re doing this because of your parents?”

“My aunt had an affair with my dad—”

“Then why the fuck are you here?”

Race kept on like Jordan hadn’t said a word. “—but my mom doesn’t know. She knows my dad was cheating on her, and the last affair was the straw that broke the camel’s back, you know? She used to find out who the women were, but not this last one. He kept her hidden.”

“How’d you find out?”

Race turned to Zellman, his eyes narrowed. “Because I followed my dad, and I saw.” His eyes flitted to me before finding a spot on the floor. It felt like he wasn’t talking to us anymore. He was confessing, almost.

“Our dads are brothers and my mom has no idea it was her sister-in-law who destroyed her marriage. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her. She’s got no one—like, no one no one. Gram and Gramps died a year ago. They didn’t leave any inheritance to my mom, and she’s got no friends. She never kept in contact with our other relatives.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Shit,” Jordan said.

“Destroy your aunt by destroying her son, and that meant using us to do it.” Cross’ voice was soft. “Right?”

Race looked over and swallowed. “Yeah. I mean, all of the other stuff wasn’t exactly a lie. Drake did stay with us for the summer. He talked about the crew system, how he hated it, how he left it because of his girlfriend.” He glanced to me, but pressed on. “There was no real plan set before I got here. I saw how Alex has a thing for Bren.”

What?

“And then I started kinda liking you guys. So yeah, I guess hurt my cousin, and that’ll hurt his mom eventually. I can’t go after her directly because how shitty is that, right? But fuck. I want to. I want to tell my mom everything—”

“Except you can’t, because you’d be further hurting your mom.” Jordan made an understanding sound. “I get it. I do.”

I looked around. Zellman and Jordan both offered pitying looks. Cross was on lockdown, drilling holes into Race’s skull with his eyes, and I couldn’t believe I was hearing or seeing any of this.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Four sets of eyes lifted to me.

A guttural rumble ripped from my throat. I was beyond pissed. “Tell your fucking mom! She can do it alone if she has to. It’s her decision. Not yours! You’re making it worse.”

“But—” Confusion clouded Race’s face, his mouth pinching in.

I wasn’t done. “And what about Drake? Explain. Now.”

“Oh.” He blinked, shaking his head. “Uh…yeah. What I said was true. Drake left the crew because of you. You didn’t know?”

That growl was coming from me again. “Does it look like I knew?!” I snapped.

“Guess not. But yeah, Alex wanted you in the Ryerson crew. Drake told me how he kept bugging him, saying he needed to recruit you.”

“Because he’s got a thing for her?”

But I knew. That wasn’t it.

“Because of my brother, right?”

It made sense. Alex wanted the biggest, baddest, fiercest crew.

Race nodded. “If your crew teams up with your brother’s, you guys are the most powerful crew in Roussou. I mean, Channing’s already is. They have fewer members than the Ryersons, but they’re older. They’re—”

“Channing protects this town. Yes. His crew is the most powerful.”

My guys all glanced at me, but it was the truth. I was just stating the truth.

“That shit doesn’t mean anything to us.” Zellman sounded unsure, looking in Jordan’s direction.

Race shook his head. “It mattered to Alex, and to Drake. Alex hated that Drake was dating you, but not making you switch crews.”

“Our crew didn’t form like that,” Jordan said. “We don’t recruit people.”

“But his does,” Race said. “We had a fight one night because he was pushing me to go after you. Said I could join up if I brought you with me. The little fuck doesn’t get how much I’ll do anything to go against him.”

“That’s why Drake quit? Because of me?”

He nodded. “That’s why as soon as he graduated last year, Drake spent the summer with us. Alex is ambitious, but stupid. He wanted the crew to start doing illegal crap, like dealing.”

“Dealing drugs?”

Race looked at Jordan. “I’m assuming you guys don’t do that?”

Jordan looked offended. “We’re not a gang. We’re friends. We hang out, and we have each other’s backs. That’s all we do.” He seemed to remember where we were, what we were doing. “And we do things like this. On occasion.”

Zellman grunted, a half-grin showing.

“But it’s not that far of a stretch,” Race continued. “You know that. I know that. Why do you think the school staff hates you guys? They think you’re bringing in drugs.”

There had been gangs in Roussou, but they were pushed out when the crew system started. The biggest gang affiliation we had in town were the Red Demons, but they had an agreement with Chan’s crew. I didn’t know what it was, but I did know they weren’t allowed to roam all around the town. The only place I saw them was at Tuesday Tits. That was it. Their base was somewhere else.

“We’re not,” I said.

Race turned to me. “Yeah.” His voice softened. “Look, I thought about asking you out. I did. But…” His eyes flicked to Cross, then back to me. Race’s shoulders lifted, and he straightened up as best he could. “I learned that wasn’t going to happen.”

I glanced to Cross too.

There was a flicker in the depths of his eyes, something dark, something deep, but then he shut it down. He signaled with a flick of his head to focus on Race again.

I did.

Race shook his head. “Yeah. Well, that’s why Drake left.”

“Just to be clear,” Zellman said after a moment. He spread his arms out in a flat line. “This has nothing to do with Bren’s vagina parts.” He shot his hands up, his palms out. “And I say that in the most respectful way. You can talk about my dick if you want, B. But it has to be respectful, just like I did.”

I rolled my eyes. “Suck my cock, Z.”

Jordan barked out a laugh. Cross grinned.

Zellman was still—very, very still. He tilted his head to the side. “You’re joking?”

“I’m joking,” I assured him. “But I’m going to make you hurt later when I’m not hopped up on painkillers.”

He shrugged. “That’s fair. You warned me.”

Jordan was still laughing, and he pointed to Race. “We’re done, right? We got what we wanted? We know what we wanted to know.”

“That’s it?” Race asked.

“That’s it.” Jordan nodded.

I was relieved. We understood Race. We knew he wasn’t going to hurt us down the road. That’s all we needed. He was right. We were bloodhounds. Give us a half-truth and we’d pound you until we got it all. We weren’t trying to be assholes, but living this life, living in Roussou, you learn not to trust kind deeds. Good Samaritans were the first to turn on you, a knife in your gut, smiling as you fell down.