They weren’t looking at the guys fondly. Like, at all.

The handprint girl definitely had frost in her gaze as she was tracking the two guys.

Oh yeah. That made things a whole lot more interesting. I was taking note that I needed to give Tabatha a call, see how she was doing and get a feel of her sorority’s feelings on this whole matter.

“Harper said he wasn’t supposed to talk.”

That was the greeting from the guy in the green polo. He announced it as if it were this great big proclamation we all needed to tremble from. Then his eyes went right to me, and they grew hard. “But he did.”

The pink polo shirt guy bristled, his hand jerking into a fist before he stuffed it in his pocket.

“Harper talked, huh?”

The guys looked at Zellman. The bristling guy’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. He shifted back as if he’d not been expecting that from Zellman, or that Zellman would be the one to even speak first.

The green guy raised his chin up. “Thought we were cool?”

Ahhh. Now I got it. Zellman must’ve partied with these guys at some point.

Zellman’s eyes were cold. “This is my crew.”

Just like that. That’s all he said, but his sentiment was noted. His crew came first. Always.

Cross took a breath and stepped forward. “You came here. You said what you said. I’m guessing that was it?” His head lowered. “Or is there more you want us to know?”

The two guys looked at me. They seemed torn.

Cross’ eyes narrowed. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not really sure the point of you guys telling us this?”

That was true. If Harper talked, why were they here? Why not the cops ready to arrest us? Or if there was some other ramifications by them being here and the guys kept looking at me. I didn’t know if that meant Harper told them I’d been the one to beat him up? Would a guy like that willingly admit he got his ass kicked by a female? I couldn’t read these guys, but they looked like they were expecting me to be fearful of them. Or nervous, maybe.

I had to sigh.

These guys really did not know us.

I was probably just making broad assumptions, because who knew if these guys were actually like Harper? Zeke Allen also seemed on the same path as them, but again, he was a stay-tuned sort of situation and things could go sideways with that dude any day of the week.

I tuned back in, realizing that both Cross and Zellman caught on that I was not participating in the conversation. Both were frowning a little at me, and Zellman was now saying, “...we’ll be in touch, how about that?” Oh, yes. I missed a lot. Zellman’s sarcasm could cut a brick. “Thank you and have a great day.”

The two guys shared a look, both seemed confused.

Their whole tough attitude had faded. The bristling guy was no longer bristling and his hand came out of its pocket. It wasn’t fisted anymore either.

They had no idea how to handle us.

Okay. I was about to educate them. “Guys.”

All heads turned my way.

I tilted mine to the side. “We’re the rough-and-tumble type of people. You want to fight? We’ll throw down. It’s where we came from. It’s what Roussou is like. Want to know a bit more about us? There’s a whole documentary about us out there ready to stream. If you’re looking to scare us, it’s the opposite effect. We’re just different. We’re not going to react how you think. Like, take me, for example. I stabbed a teacher.”

Zellman coughed, covering up an abrupt laugh.

Cross was just watching me carefully.

I kept on, my tone all casual, “I did my time, got counseling. I’m better, but then again…maybe I’m not. I could slip back. I probably will. I mean, there’s my dad, too. He’s now a member of a motorcycle club, and yeah, it’s one of those that you should be scared of.”

The two guys edged back a step, looking way more cautious toward me now.

Me, I gave them a smile, almost upbeat. “And not to mention the whole reason he went to jail. For murder. He killed someone before I could finish him off. So my dad did my time for me.”

...my dad did my time for me.

My own voice was echoing in my head.

I was hearing myself, but hearing it at a distance, like I wasn’t connected to myself.

I kept on, but I was also reeling. “So there’s that, too. To summarize things up nice and tidy, you’re not going to get the normal reaction from us that I’m thinking you’re hoping to get. We,” I motioned to all three of us, “are not scared of you guys, or your house, or really anything.”

Here was the part that I was tired of: the talking, the words, the threats. These guys came over to intimidate us. We intimidated them instead, or at least I did because they edged back another step, looking at me like I was that wild animal I used to be. And I did used to be that person.

But I wasn’t anymore.

Jesus.

I was in my head now, and what was I even going on about?

I was suddenly over this whole conversation, this entire situation.

Fuck. I was growing again.

How’d that happen?

Cross sighed. “Get lost, guys. If Harper sent you here to test us, tell him we’re quaking in our boots. He’ll like that. It’ll make him feel better.”

At his words, their entire demeanor changed. They looked relieved, their shoulders relaxed, and one nodded. He nudged the other with his elbow, and both turned away. They were leaving at the same time Blaise joined us, still sweaty from the game, but he’d pulled some soccer pants and a dry shirt on. He scowled at the guys, watching them leave.

“What’d they want?”

Cross glanced my way, then turned to face his brother. “Why don’t you call your best friend and ask him? We are not your crew. You’re acting like we are.”

Blaise’s eyes grew cold, holding his brother’s gaze steadily. “Got your underwear twisted, bro—”

Cross went at him, and I moved, but I was on autopilot because this was nothing new either.

Blaise and Cross fighting.

I stepped between them the same time Zellman turned, his back to me, and he was facing Blaise. He shoved him back. I turned back, reaching out and catching Cross in his chest. I held him back at the same time.

He growled over my shoulder, “We’re not here to do your dirty work. I told you this before.”

I didn’t want to look because I didn’t want to see, but I could hear the smirk on Blaise’s face. “Really? Because you already did. I wanted Harper worked over, and you guys did it for me. Thank you.”

Cross went still against my hands, still and solid.

Blaise kept on, “I already worked Harper for what he said about Aspen, but every chance I get where pain can get inflicted on that asshole, on that whole house, I’m taking it. So, thank you because you already did my bitch work.”

Cross’ face went flat, and that wasn’t good.

I jerked, moving him back, and I said over my shoulder, “Let’s go.”

Zellman wasn’t moving.

I didn’t stop. Cross wasn’t fighting me, so I moved him back at a quick pace.

“Z!” I clipped out.

Zellman remained in place, and Blaise was focused on him now, his jaw clenching.

Then, in a flash, Zellman’s fist came up. He punched Blaise right in the face.

A normal hit would send a guy to the ground, but Blaise didn’t move. His face snapped to the side, that was it. He lifted a hand, rubbing where he’d been hit, and he said something back to him, something that was inaudible to us. We waited, but nothing happened until slowly, Zellman turned and started toward us. His head was down and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

As he drew closer, Cross growled, “What’d he say?”

“Nothing.” And Zellman breezed by.

Cross and I shared a look because Blaise had certainly said something.

“I don’t know what to do about my brother.”

I frowned, my hands no longer pushing him or holding him in place. They just rested against his chest, now in a comforting manner, or maybe a shared, frustrating manner, because I said, “Yeah. Me neither.”

Then again, there was a lot I didn’t know what to do about.

Either way, we both moved to follow Zellman.

From: Brenners

To: Tazsters

Subject: Hey

How are you? Tell me the latest with Race.

I told you about ‘the hug’ we did on Zach. Guess who’s back in the fart house?

—Bren

From: Tazsters

To: Bren

Subject: Re: Hey

Are you serious??? I didn’t know.

And fart house — lol!

Also, I know that his name isn’t Zach. Thanks for letting me feel like a dumbass for weeks.

The Best Twin

BREN

“Hey.”

I was sitting on the perch in my room, overlooking the backyard. Turning, Cross was coming in, the music from downstairs blaring louder. It muted as he closed the door, coming toward me. He flipped on the fan for extra sound, and suddenly we were in our private sanctuary. The party sounds were still there, but much quieter now as he moved behind me, sliding in. Lifting his legs, he put me between them and folded me back against his chest.

I leaned all the way back, almost feeling lazy now.

Rolling my head, I went back to watching outside.