It was the firefly, but there was a different glint to it in him. A murderous glint.

He reached out to touch my arm, but turned to his crew members. “We need to talk to the rest of the active crews, get them filled in on what’s happening at the school.”

My head reared back. “I thought you weren’t going to get involved?”

He gave me a long look. “I changed my mind. We’re stopping the whole goddamn fucking thing.”

I didn’t know what to say. “That’s it? I tell you all that and now suddenly you’re going to do something about the program?” Didn’t he have anything else to say? About Dad? About that night?

Channing’s eyes fell to my knife, which I tossed in the air and flicked my wrist around to catch.

“You have your knife out, Bren.”

I flushed.

His hand gentled on my arm until he dropped it. A look so stark, so pained, so anguished looked at me that I froze. I found myself blinking back tears at the suddenness of it.

He stepped close, his hands coming to touch my shoulders, so delicately, so gently, as if I were a broken egg held together by one piece of tape. He dropped his voice, whispering, “We’ll talk later. Trust me.” He pulled me in, moving my knife out of the way, and then folded his arms around me. “God, Bren.” He was shuddering.

I was—I was still frozen.

He pressed a kiss to my head. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He hugged me one more second before stepping away. As he did, he wiped his thumb under his eye, catching a wetness I’d only seen there twice before.

“You’re going to stop the school thing?” Jordan straightened from where he’d been resting against Manny’s back wall. Zellman and Cross came to my side.

My crew watched my brother like somehow he had the answers.

“We’ll get it fixed,” Channing said. “But you have to give us time. Okay?”

It was like the four adults were leaving to do adult things, and us children had been told to stay.

Channing and his guys disappeared around the building. My crew waited for my decision. If I wanted to talk, they knew I’d say something. If I wanted to fight, I’d say that too.

Cross stood right next to me, heat radiating off of him.

“We’re with you,” Jordan offered. “Whatever you want, B.”

I wanted to forget.

“Anything but remembering,” I told them.

Jordan snapped his fingers. “How about a good old-fashioned egging? I know a principal and superintendent who deserve some new decoration on their houses.”

It was childish. It was something a sixth grader would do, but it wouldn’t land us in jail. It was perfect.

“I’m in.” I was so in.

We were heading to our vehicles when the side door burst open.

“Cross!” Taz ran down toward us, out of breath and red in the face. Her eyes were wide, almost frenzied. Tabatha and Sunday came right behind her, looking less panicked, but still concerned.

We all paused, waiting.

Taz grabbed Cross’ arm, panting slightly. “It’s Race. Alex’s crew showed up at the house.”

A fight between Alex and Race was trouble. The fact that he’d sought Race out at Cross’ house was even more trouble. That made it crew business.

“Our place?” Cross asked. “You sure?”

She nodded, sucking in air. “They asked if you were home. When I said you weren’t, he told Race he’d better step outside. Those were his exact words.”

Jordan moved closer. “They could say it’s family business.”

But it was happening at Cross’ house.

There could be ramifications if Cross didn’t say something.

I touched his arm. “Let’s go see what’s happening. It’s at your house.”

Zellman agreed. “That’s your home.”

“Come on, guys!” Jordan threw a hand up. “We’ve already got big problems. This is a fight we can avoid.”

But Cross started off, turning to walk backward. “Then don’t come,” he said.

He’d just thrown down the worst insult possible to a crew member.

Zellman and I went with Cross. Z jumped in the back. I got in the passenger side, and Cross was starting the engine when we felt the truck dip under someone’s weight.

The window slid open and Jordan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m with you guys. Don’t fucking insult me again.”

Cross looked in the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze. He didn’t reply, just put the truck in drive.

Taz tapped on the window, so he rolled it down.

“You’re going to go?” she asked, her eyes still wide. Her breathing was shallow, and there were beads of sweat over her top lip.

Tabatha came to stand next to Taz. “The other guys are there.” She pointed to Sunday. “Our friends.”

Zellman snorted, resting his elbows on the truck’s edge. He smiled at Sunday. “You have other friends I don’t know about?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re hitting on me now?”

“I’d hit on you if we were in the middle of the apocalypse.” He winked. “Make me a zombie, and I’ll still try to boink you, then maybe eat you.”

She laughed and pushed at his shoulder, shoving him backward. “I’ve learned my lesson, Z. I’ve moved on to older guys. They’re more…” Her head cocked to the side. She pretended to think about it. “Longer lasting.”

His grin went to a scowl. “Who? Who’s longer lasting than me?”

She backed up, waving. “Almost anyone at this point.”

Zellman frowned, but he was trying not to laugh.

“Can we ride with you?” Taz asked.

Cross paused, frowning.

“We got a ride here,” she continued. “It’d just be easier if we could hop in.”

He shrugged, gesturing to the back. “Hop in, but hold on, T. We go fast.”

She nodded. All three girls scrambled toward the back. Zellman lowered the tailgate, and they climbed up. He pulled it closed again after swatting Sunday’s ass. She tried to look annoyed but failed.

Once the three sat down and the guys positioned themselves at the end of the truck’s bed, Cross started off.

Despite what he said, he did drive safer than usual, slowing down at turns and even stopping at an empty intersection because the light was red. The rest of the crew smirked at him as he pulled into the alley behind his house.

He noticed our looks and grimaced. “Don’t fucking start.”

Jordan laughed. “You’re a good brother, Cross.”

Cross walked ahead of him, extending a middle finger in the air.

I followed Cross, glancing back toward Jordan and Zellman.

The girls had fallen to the back. Tabatha and Sunday were whispering. I slowed, letting Jordan and Zellman go past me. I felt their curious looks, but I ignored them.

Tabatha looked smug, with her chest jutting out, as they approached me.

“You okay?” Taz drew up next to me.

It was her boyfriend we were here to save. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Yeah, but…” Her eyes ran over my face. “You look tired.”

Tabatha laughed, linking her elbow with Taz’s. “That’s her nice way of saying you look like crap.” She jiggled Taz a little, those smug eyes on me. “Be nice, Taz. Her guys are here to save the day. Remember?”

Oh.

No.

In an instant, my hand was around her throat, and I walked her back until I could shove her into the side of Cross’ truck.

“He—whoa!”

“OH MY GOD!” Sunday screeched, and the guys came back to see what was happening.

Zellman grabbed Sunday’s shoulders and began walking her into the house. She resisted at first, digging her heels in, but after he whispered in her ear, she began edging away with him. She kept looking back, biting her lip.

I waited, my hand around Tabatha’s throat.

She wasn’t fighting me. She was tense and still, watching me.

Taz twisted her hands in front of her. “Bren, don’t. Please.”

Everyone ignored her, and Cross stepped up on my left, followed by Jordan on my right. As they closed in, Taz was shut out. She could hear me, but she couldn’t see my face.

“Cross,” Tabatha pretended to croak at him.

I couldn’t hide a grin. As soon as I’d gotten her against the truck, I’d loosened my hold dramatically. She could’ve stepped free. She was putting on a show.

Cross knew it too. “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow.