CHAPTER ONE
This is going to be a really long night.
After completing the individual group updates, we all enter into a combined meeting of sorts. I want to ask questions like “How did Jude and Crow end up in the same vehicle together?” and “Whatever happened to the meet attendees?” All those answers will come in due time, though; gear by gear. Plus, the last thing this group of testosterone needs right now is a ton of estrogen-filled questions. But, goddamn, it’s hard not to word-vomit everything on my mind.
On a positive note, no one is showing any animosity toward anyone right now. I imagined the convergence of these two groups to go down a lot differently. Porter is the exception, though; his enmity is practically visible as he seethes with anger. Pinned in place by the fear that if he adjusts even an inch Jude will shoot him, he is still resting cockeyed on an elbow with his hip propped against a crate.
He has witnessed similar scenes play out in the past and evidently isn’t willing to test their friendly ties under the given circumstances. Fuck my sister once, shame on you… Fuck her twice, shame on me. Fuck her three, four, five…
Honestly, it’s amazing he hasn’t been shot already.
The delay is in his benefit, no doubt, helping him to bide time. Every second that passes, he regains energy and focus, allowing him to better defend himself and come up with an epic alibi.
I’m surrounded by some pretty damn excellent minds… Porter not excluded. Sure, he was a tool for everything he did to me, but it wouldn’t come as a surprise if every slander from his mouth and thrust of his cock was calculated — the abuse and manipulation part of a bigger, badder scheme.
Hayes breaks away from the Revelry crew and pulls me aside to quietly ask my permission to share the information divulged moments before Jude, Crow, and Porter made their grand entrance. I assure him that, at this point, anything I openly discussed is completely okay to relay.
However, whenever I try to join the discussion, they shoo me away. Not because I’m invaluable or they see me as a nuisance, but because they’re still getting individual base stories and worry my involvement might influence someone’s version since I’m blood to one and in an intimate relationship with the other three.
While waiting, I sit across from Porter and stare smugly at him for the first time in… forever… watching as he continues to blink away the fogginess from the beating he apparently took.
He’s still working on it when the guys announce they’re ready to include me in the conversation. Trenton scoops an arm around my waist and tugs me in close. “Sorry, Pet, but where the four of us are concerned, you’re too much of a damn distraction. We’re ready for you to step onto the witness stand though, now. You good?” The sudden switch from aggressive and standoffish to caring and somewhat playful again comes as a shock to my already overstimulated mind.
A light sparks and expands in my chest as I realize that Trenton is not much different than Jude: His personality can go from hot to cold and volatile to passionate and caring, all in the snap of a finger. Everyone outside of “family” be damned.
For a short period of time, I was pushed outside of that ranking as seniority took precedence. I do not fault them at all for that decision. Being brushed aside hurts like hell, but I’m pragmatic enough to understand — to be able to roll with the punches.
As for being on the witness stand, in that they are sorely mistaken. Witness seats are for victims or bystanders. I intend to be involved in their plans in whole, not in part, and certainly not as a victim or spectator.
Before I can begin to analyze and “help,” though, I want to be enlightened regarding the most recent goings-on. “To start… I need updates, if you don’t mind.” I try to sound as meek and humble as possible — to respect the male ego and all — but Jude just rolls his eyes at the farce.
Trenton, Hayes, and Crow let him answer. “Our Grand Opening meet went really well… considering.” His gaze slants sideways toward Crow.
For obvious reasons, this particular update and the accusatory way it was delivered does not go over well with Revelry. Tension ratchets up a notch.
Ignoring their piercing glares, Jude continues, “That said, we had three arrests, twelve summonses, and nine impounds.” He grimaces, much like I do at times — something that people from our past would take us as twins for if it weren’t for our age difference.
Our similarity does not pass the guys’ notice. The situation is serious, but that comical trait is not. The expression pulls a small smile from each — even black-hearted Crow.
Their warm reactions give me a flicker of hope. I want them to see Jude like I do: like me but way more insane and hella smarter — when grief is not in the picture, that is.
“Ouch,” I respond, grimacing in return.
Jude continues, unfazed, “Yeah, but—”
“But with their turnout, that really isn’t too bad,” Crow interjects.
The comment was tame enough, but the three Revelry guys share nondescript looks that scream esoteric knowledge. Jude notices, catching the remnants of their silent exchange and reading the insult between the lines of Crow’s comment.
Another boost of tension hisses through the circle.
Jude shifts from one foot to the other.
Hayes, Trenton, and Crow take a step back, shoulders bunching and fingers curling slightly at their sides.
The scene goes from cautious and somewhat amiable to volatile with a few narrowed glares. My hopes that Revelry will see Jude like they — hopefully — see me, crashes and burns the moment Jude pulls out his gun and rests it loosely at his side, finger hovering over the trigger.
Revelry might be into the underground street scene, but they aren’t moblike — aside from the illegal racing part; none of them wield weapons or use strong-arm tactics to get what they want.
When it comes to their passions, their cold and calculative mindset isn’t much different, though. They took a step back but didn’t cower. The commitment to the competition, to survive, is in the set of their jaws and the determination of their locked focus.
Several actions happen in a blink of an eye:
Jude’s eyes slit into harsh lines.
His gun hand rises.
I step between the two crews.
Arms wrap around my torso.
A shot pops throughout the port warehouse.
My body lands with a scrape against the concrete…
…and someone falls on top of me.
CHAPTER TWO
My uneven, rasping breaths mingle with those from the person covering me. The slight tang of engine grease mixed with sulfur from a fired gun burns through my lungs. Unwilling to let in any of the scene, I squeeze my eyes tight and give way to the blackness.
Unfortunately, my mind has other plans and projects an entirely unwanted scene behind my closed eyelids. The overwhelming senses of real life surround me, mimicking those from a few months ago — ringing echoes of a fired weapon and acrid scents of smoke and blood. I become lighter, floating, almost out-of-body as the memories of that night come flooding back.
A light sweep of warm air ghosts over my ear. “Remi? Remi, please look at me.”
Shuffling resounds around me and someone applies pressure to my body again. Everything rushes back at once; the details of the night a few months ago blend with those from the present, and I jolt upward, eyes snapping open and head swivelling in every direction.