Alex closed his eyes. He took a calming breath.

When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, like he was just clinging to his sanity. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s my cousin. This is a family thing.”

“Bullshit.” Jordan laughed in disbelief. “You have most your crew here. To beat up one guy?” He gestured to the jocks behind us. “These motherfuckers are too chicken shit to do anything except watch. Thirty to one isn’t a fair fight.”

“They’re not all here, and he’s a fighter!” Alex countered. “He can defend himself.”

“You’re making your family fight a crew issue. You think I have my crew back me up if I fight my sister?”

Cross indicated Taz, who held balled fists up to her face. She was trembling, and Tabatha pushed her way through the crowd to her side. She wrapped her arm around her, pulling her close.

Alex shook his head. “Why are you involved? We’ll go to the street if that’s the issue.” He snapped his fingers at Race. “Come on. You heard him. We gotta move.” He turned to go. So did his crew.

Race didn’t.

His hands rested on his hips, and he seemed to be concentrating on steadying his breathing. Sweat trickled down his face. He wiped at it, almost angrily.

Alex stopped, looking back. “You’re not coming?”

Race let his head fall back, his Adam’s apple jutting out. “What do you think?”

“So you’re saying it has to be here?”

Race didn’t comment, still trying to breathe evenly.

Alex pointed to him. “You heard him,” he told Cross. “It has to be here or nowhere.”

Cross stepped forward again. He was fully in the fight now, almost side by side with Race. He held up a hand. “You back the fuck up or this definitely isn’t a family fight anymore.”

The tension doubled, sweeping through everyone.

Alex sputtered out a curse, raking his hands through his hair. “You’re going to make this a crew thing? We outnumber you.”

A smirk fluttered over Cross’ face before his mask returned. “You know how we feel about a challenge.” He grinned. “It’s the shit we live for.”

We all moved to stand with Race.

If Alex came, he was coming at us.

“This is bullshit!” Alex threw his arms wide. “This is a family thing.”

“Thirty Ryerson crew to one Normal.” My stomach churned with anger. “That’s not a family fight. It’s a massacre.”

Alex started laughing. And then he couldn’t stop. It reminded me of a hyena. He pointed at me. “That’s funny coming from you. I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve never stabbed my school principal.”

We’d drawn the line.

He’d just crossed it.

I drew my knife out, flipping it open. Alex focused on it immediately “This thing?” I murmured.

I was taunting him. He knew it.

His eyes went cold. “You’re about to cross a line—”

“You already did. You insulted me. There’s no going back after that.”

I could see Tabatha from the corner of my eye. She was still comforting Taz, running a hand up and down her arm.

“People need to stop underestimating me,” I said, turning her way for a moment. “It’s getting old.”

Her hand paused halfway up Taz’s arm. She blinked, then kept rubbing. There was no other reaction from her.

“It’s up to you, Alex. Stay and fight us, or leave.”

We were all ready to go.

Race wiped a hand over his face, then assumed his fight position. He was still sweating and bleeding, but his shoulders rolled back.

“They interrupted round one,” he said. “You ready for round two, cousin?”

Alex bit back a growl. He focused on me. “You cut us and what then? Cops will know. You’ll get charged.”

My mouth almost fell open. “Was that a joke?”

“He’s desperate,” Race said.

Alex gave his cousin a hostile look. “No joke, cuz. But anyway, you know how the cops are. They’ll assume shit. They might assume it was Bren who sliced one of my crew open.” He shrugged. “What about that? It’s hard to tell who’s doing what in a big brawl. You’ll get charged, won’t you? You might go away to juvie then? Maybe even prison.”

I was having déjà vu.

This fucker was threatening me—same as Sunday, same as Tabatha. Same as all the other times Alex had forgotten his place.

But this time he’d really messed up.

A ripple was spreading through his crew. The first few couldn’t believe what they’d heard. They looked at each other, shaking their heads.

Threatening what he had, implying they’d find out—that was snitching.

That was violation number one, of all crews.

No one narced, no one.

I shook my head. “You’re no longer our problem, Alex.” I glanced at his group. They were backing up, and he didn’t even know. They had withdrawn to the street. He was almost alone. A few were already heading to their cars, though some lingered back.

I had no doubt one simple meeting would make up their minds.

Alex was out. And I was going to enjoy this.

“Tides turn real fucking quick, huh?” I gestured behind him.

He turned to look, and the fight drained from him.

“Guys?!” He started for them. “What are you doing? Come back here!”

They ignored him. The few that remained held up their hands. One by one, they turned to go.

It was quiet as we watched their vehicles leave.

The Ryerson crew had been led by a Ryerson for years. I wondered what their new name would be. It felt wrong not to have a Ryerson crew, but then I looked over at Race. He could lead them.

As if sensing my thoughts, he looked over at me, totally deflated. But I also saw the anger there, the darkness, the hatred burning. No, he wouldn’t lead them.

I turned back toward Alex. “Threatening to be a narc is proclaiming you’re a narc.”

He roared, lunging for me.

I had my knife ready, but Cross and Jordan stepped in front of me.

They didn’t hit him. They just shoved him back.

Jordan got in his face. “You touch one of us, you’re dead. I’m goddamn sick of your shit.” His waved to the street, dismissing him. “This fight is over. You’re over. Get away from us.”

Alex closed his eyes. The violence was still there, but he couldn’t do a thing now. His hands were tied.

He looked right at his cousin. “Your mother is never going to find work here. She’s over. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Goddamn!” Race exploded, surging past Cross and Jordan. They caught him and pushed him back, but he threw his arms over them, still trying to get at Alex. “Fuck you! Fuck your whole fucking family.”

I was guessing someone had finally told his mom about her soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law.

Alex started moving toward his vehicle. “Yeah. Right. You’ll learn what it’s like to piss on a real Ryerson now, Race. Good luck with that.” He opened his door.

“Good luck with being known as an informant!” Race yelled after him. “Hope you stay above ground longer than me!”

Alex started his truck, and extending a middle finger in the air, he drove off.

I would’ve liked to laugh off Race’s last words, but I couldn’t.

Narcs got killed.

A chill went through my body.

I’d never heard of a crew narc before now. I wished I still hadn’t.

“You okay?” Jordan asked.

He was about to slap Race on the back, but he pulled the hit so it was more of a tap.

Race flashed him a grin before he doubled over, groaning. He rested his hands on his knees.

“Race!” Taz rushed to his side.

She slipped her head under one of his arms and straightened, helping him do the same. Race groaned again, grabbing at his side.

Two Normals stepped in, one replacing Taz and the other taking Race’s free side. She followed, worry pulling her eyebrows together. She bit her lip as she reached out, her fingertips grazing over Race’s back like she just needed to touch him. The guys led the way inside, and as soon Race was seated in a chair at the kitchen table, Taz pulled out the first aid kit.