The Boy I Grew Up With
Page 38
It soared over my head and smacked her right in the shoulder.
“What?” She whirled to me, but I was on my feet by then.
Before the book hit the ground, I snatched it up off its bounce and backhanded her. With the book. Across the face. It wasn’t enough to knock her off her feet, but she fell into the crowd beside her. A look of wonder came over her. Her hand raised to touch where I’d hit her before pure fury formed.
It was at that point I rethought what I’d just done.
Shannon Broudou was not a small girl.
She was nearing the line between solid and pudgy, but she embraced her weight. She loved her curves. I had no problem with that, but it was a problem when those same curves were now poised to take me on. She had a lot more meat than I did.
“Aw, shit.”
I had enough time to consider running, but my Jax pride wouldn’t let me, so with those guys still fighting in the background, I braced for her rebuttal.
She dropped her head and charged.
Channing nursed a black eye in detention—right next to me.
“Why are you mad at me?” he asked. “I was defending you.”
I glared at him. “Because I was handling him just fine, and it’s not that.” I quieted. I didn’t want to fight, but screw it. “You’re fighting all the time lately.”
He pulled the ice bag away and straightened. “So what?”
God. I hated how his eyes got so cold, especially when he was staring right at me.
“Your mom died, but—”
“But what?” he snarled. “I’m not handling her death the right way?” He leaned close, his breath hot on me. “Tell me, Heather. How am I supposed to mourn my mom, huh? Can’t be like you, not giving a shit that my mom took off when I was in first grade.”
I winced.
I waited for the second dig, where she came back and decided we still weren’t good enough for her. But it didn’t come.
“Shut up,” I shot back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“I know what it’s like to lose a mom. I just don’t know what it’s like to live without one.” He shoved back his chair, standing up.
“If you walk out of this classroom, Mr. Monroe, you’re suspended,” the teacher warned him.
It didn’t matter.
Channing walked out, raising his middle finger over his shoulder.
The thing is, I wasn’t sure if that was meant for the teacher or me.
30
Heather
Present day
Two weeks went by, and it had become crew haven at Manny’s.
Channing’s, Bren’s, and another one—they were all in and out every day.
Crews always held a “danger” appeal to the Fallen Crest crowd—from high schoolers through the middle-aged lonely housewives—and since they were here, business was booming.
I was still ready for the crews to go back to their normal, less frequent visits. Things weren’t so tense when they weren’t around.
In the grand scheme of things, though, I wanted to make sure we were safe, so we endured. That’s all you could do in a storm: hunker down, wait for it to end.
Everyone felt it—the staff and the customers—whether they knew what was going on or not. They walked a bit more freely when they were leaving. The only one who didn’t seem affected was Suki. We’d pitched the idea of her hosting a private dinner night, and she loved it—so much that she’d settled back into being a regular manager. So now, when I wasn’t needed at Manny’s, I was at Tuesday Tits with Channing, or I was at the warehouse with everyone else.
It was one of those warehouse afternoons again. I’d started to stay away from Manny’s as much as possible, just because I didn’t want to feel the weight of putting everyone there in danger, but I was bored. And restless, and I’d started carrying a pack of cigarettes on me again.
I didn’t smoke them. Not yet, but I was taking them out. I’d hold one in my hand.
I was doing that more than I should’ve.
I sat on a picnic table in the back. Everyone else was inside, or the kids were on the makeshift playground that had been set up in the middle of everything.
I hadn’t liked seeing the kids here, but when I’d said as much to Channing, he’d asked what else they could do. Some of their members had kids. They probably wouldn’t be touched. He didn’t think the Red Demons would hurt kids, but why risk them?
I couldn’t quite make out all the conversation inside, but I could hear it. I could hear them laughing.
I wasn’t laughing.
There was nothing to goddamn laugh about in this situation.
I needed my own chaos, not theirs. I needed my Manny’s dysfunction.
“I didn’t know it was getting that bad,” Channing said, coming out from the warehouse. He moved to sit on top of the table beside me. Reaching over, he took the pack out of my hands and slid the cigarette from my fingers, caressing my hand in the process.
I didn’t fight him. I couldn’t. Because he was right. It was getting bad.
“It’s this place.”
I didn’t look at him, but I knew he wouldn’t buy that excuse. He put the cigarette back in the pack and took out a lighter. He lit the whole thing on fire and tossed it into one of the bonfire pits.
“It’s not this place,” he said. “It’s the situation.”
Well. That too.
I grunted. “I was trying to be nice.”
“I know.”
We fell silent—comfortably.
Maybe it was because Channing was with me no matter what, or maybe it was because I’d given in. But I wasn’t fighting him about being in a crew anymore. I wasn’t hoping to pull him away. I was in, fully in. Whatever the reason, he said something he never had before.
“I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t that.
I glanced over. “Huh?”
“You’re in this because of me, because of the crew.”
It was that.
I couldn’t talk. I was too surprised.
He rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m crew, and that’ll never change. And you’re in danger because you’re the woman I love. I’m sorry. I am.” He looked over now. “But that’ll never change either. I’ll never love someone like I love you. Don’t ask me to try.”
Channing had hurt me. He’d loved me. He’d made me laugh. He’d made me swoon. He’d been cocky, smirking, careless, reckless, and stupid. Beyond stupid. He was good and bad, and I’d had a front-row seat for the whole show. I’d also been an integral part of so many of those times—when he pushed me away, when I turned him away, all of it.
“You formed the crew system to stand up against the Broudous,” I reminded him. “You did it for me.”
He shook his head. “I did it because Brett and Budd were too strong. They were bullying everyone except my group. I did it for me too. Your friend was just the catalyst. That’s all.”
“Still.” I leaned forward, mirroring his posture. “That’s ancient history. You didn’t know the life the crew system would take on. Thick and thin, right?” I wasn’t really talking to him. “Being in a crew is like marriage.”
Channing laughed. “Being in a crew is like those marriages that last through everything and don’t fall apart.”
“Not the flimsy ones who get divorced after one scandal.” I wrinkled my nose, but I was smiling.
“What?” She whirled to me, but I was on my feet by then.
Before the book hit the ground, I snatched it up off its bounce and backhanded her. With the book. Across the face. It wasn’t enough to knock her off her feet, but she fell into the crowd beside her. A look of wonder came over her. Her hand raised to touch where I’d hit her before pure fury formed.
It was at that point I rethought what I’d just done.
Shannon Broudou was not a small girl.
She was nearing the line between solid and pudgy, but she embraced her weight. She loved her curves. I had no problem with that, but it was a problem when those same curves were now poised to take me on. She had a lot more meat than I did.
“Aw, shit.”
I had enough time to consider running, but my Jax pride wouldn’t let me, so with those guys still fighting in the background, I braced for her rebuttal.
She dropped her head and charged.
Channing nursed a black eye in detention—right next to me.
“Why are you mad at me?” he asked. “I was defending you.”
I glared at him. “Because I was handling him just fine, and it’s not that.” I quieted. I didn’t want to fight, but screw it. “You’re fighting all the time lately.”
He pulled the ice bag away and straightened. “So what?”
God. I hated how his eyes got so cold, especially when he was staring right at me.
“Your mom died, but—”
“But what?” he snarled. “I’m not handling her death the right way?” He leaned close, his breath hot on me. “Tell me, Heather. How am I supposed to mourn my mom, huh? Can’t be like you, not giving a shit that my mom took off when I was in first grade.”
I winced.
I waited for the second dig, where she came back and decided we still weren’t good enough for her. But it didn’t come.
“Shut up,” I shot back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“I know what it’s like to lose a mom. I just don’t know what it’s like to live without one.” He shoved back his chair, standing up.
“If you walk out of this classroom, Mr. Monroe, you’re suspended,” the teacher warned him.
It didn’t matter.
Channing walked out, raising his middle finger over his shoulder.
The thing is, I wasn’t sure if that was meant for the teacher or me.
30
Heather
Present day
Two weeks went by, and it had become crew haven at Manny’s.
Channing’s, Bren’s, and another one—they were all in and out every day.
Crews always held a “danger” appeal to the Fallen Crest crowd—from high schoolers through the middle-aged lonely housewives—and since they were here, business was booming.
I was still ready for the crews to go back to their normal, less frequent visits. Things weren’t so tense when they weren’t around.
In the grand scheme of things, though, I wanted to make sure we were safe, so we endured. That’s all you could do in a storm: hunker down, wait for it to end.
Everyone felt it—the staff and the customers—whether they knew what was going on or not. They walked a bit more freely when they were leaving. The only one who didn’t seem affected was Suki. We’d pitched the idea of her hosting a private dinner night, and she loved it—so much that she’d settled back into being a regular manager. So now, when I wasn’t needed at Manny’s, I was at Tuesday Tits with Channing, or I was at the warehouse with everyone else.
It was one of those warehouse afternoons again. I’d started to stay away from Manny’s as much as possible, just because I didn’t want to feel the weight of putting everyone there in danger, but I was bored. And restless, and I’d started carrying a pack of cigarettes on me again.
I didn’t smoke them. Not yet, but I was taking them out. I’d hold one in my hand.
I was doing that more than I should’ve.
I sat on a picnic table in the back. Everyone else was inside, or the kids were on the makeshift playground that had been set up in the middle of everything.
I hadn’t liked seeing the kids here, but when I’d said as much to Channing, he’d asked what else they could do. Some of their members had kids. They probably wouldn’t be touched. He didn’t think the Red Demons would hurt kids, but why risk them?
I couldn’t quite make out all the conversation inside, but I could hear it. I could hear them laughing.
I wasn’t laughing.
There was nothing to goddamn laugh about in this situation.
I needed my own chaos, not theirs. I needed my Manny’s dysfunction.
“I didn’t know it was getting that bad,” Channing said, coming out from the warehouse. He moved to sit on top of the table beside me. Reaching over, he took the pack out of my hands and slid the cigarette from my fingers, caressing my hand in the process.
I didn’t fight him. I couldn’t. Because he was right. It was getting bad.
“It’s this place.”
I didn’t look at him, but I knew he wouldn’t buy that excuse. He put the cigarette back in the pack and took out a lighter. He lit the whole thing on fire and tossed it into one of the bonfire pits.
“It’s not this place,” he said. “It’s the situation.”
Well. That too.
I grunted. “I was trying to be nice.”
“I know.”
We fell silent—comfortably.
Maybe it was because Channing was with me no matter what, or maybe it was because I’d given in. But I wasn’t fighting him about being in a crew anymore. I wasn’t hoping to pull him away. I was in, fully in. Whatever the reason, he said something he never had before.
“I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t that.
I glanced over. “Huh?”
“You’re in this because of me, because of the crew.”
It was that.
I couldn’t talk. I was too surprised.
He rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m crew, and that’ll never change. And you’re in danger because you’re the woman I love. I’m sorry. I am.” He looked over now. “But that’ll never change either. I’ll never love someone like I love you. Don’t ask me to try.”
Channing had hurt me. He’d loved me. He’d made me laugh. He’d made me swoon. He’d been cocky, smirking, careless, reckless, and stupid. Beyond stupid. He was good and bad, and I’d had a front-row seat for the whole show. I’d also been an integral part of so many of those times—when he pushed me away, when I turned him away, all of it.
“You formed the crew system to stand up against the Broudous,” I reminded him. “You did it for me.”
He shook his head. “I did it because Brett and Budd were too strong. They were bullying everyone except my group. I did it for me too. Your friend was just the catalyst. That’s all.”
“Still.” I leaned forward, mirroring his posture. “That’s ancient history. You didn’t know the life the crew system would take on. Thick and thin, right?” I wasn’t really talking to him. “Being in a crew is like marriage.”
Channing laughed. “Being in a crew is like those marriages that last through everything and don’t fall apart.”
“Not the flimsy ones who get divorced after one scandal.” I wrinkled my nose, but I was smiling.
