“For my sake.”
Then he looks at me with storm clouds in his eyes. “And for
yours.”
Chapter Six
Elena
I wake up to the sounds of arguing. Great. I guess the crew is
finally home. I roll out of bed, throw on some workout clothes, and
twist my hair into a quick bun on top of my head. When the cab
dropped me off last night, Drazic’s house was empty. Our
two-story white clapboard house, wedged into the shadow of the
mountain, usually has no less than three people drifting through it
at all times. But the boys must have run off somewhere with Nash to
try to calm him down, or to run a job, or god knows what else.
Well, if their goal was to calm Nash down, it didn’t work.
I pad downstairs, careful not to make the floorboards groan, not that
they would hear me over their shouting anyway. It’s Drazic,
Nash, and Jagger, stomping around the living room, exhaustion heavy
in their tones. I doubt they’ve slept at all. I slip into the
kitchen and flick the coffee maker on, then dig into the fridge for
some eggs.
“We are not messing with the McManuses,” Drazic
says in the living room. “I just got done trying to smooth shit
over with Mama McManus, and here you are trying to stir it up again.”
“Like I give a shit,” Nash snaps back.
I cringe. Drazic doesn’t take that tone from anyone, but
especially not from Nash. I’m about at my limit with his
attitude. I can’t even imagine how Uncle D is feeling.
“No. Not just no, but hell no. We cannot bring that
ten-ton shitstorm down on our heads. Do you know what they can do to
us? What kind of connections they have?”
“I’m not scared.” Nash huffs. “Not of Mama,
not of Rory, not of any of their friends. I’ll fucking plow
through every last one of them—”
“C’mon, man—” Jagger cries.
“—I will. I don’t care. Eye for an eye, man. I’m
fucking owed .”
Jagger flops onto a chair with a rattle of his wallet chain. “Grow
the fuck up, man. I love you, but I’m not sticking my neck out.
Not where the McManuses are concerned. They got the cops deep in
their pockets, man. Their boys inside the prisons . . .
They’re everywhere. ”
“We don’t exactly want them looking into our own dark
corners,” Drazic says.
“A bunch of fucking pussies.” And with that, Nash slams
his fist against the wall.
I jump, spatula clattering out of my hands. Shit. I really don’t
want to get dragged into a crew argument. For me, crew arguments must
be how it feels for other people to watch their parents fighting. My
chest gets tight and my heart aches, desperately wanting everyone to
be right and wrong at the same time.
But like a little kid, I’m helpless to change anything. I’m
part of the crew and not all at the same time. I only get mixed up in
the crew’s business when they let me. Kind of like my
relationship with Nash. Apparently he’s only shown me his fun,
carefree side. This darkness is something new, and again, I feel
helpless to change it.
Whatever their concern is with the McManuses, it sounds like it’s
better for everyone that I not know about it.
“Fine,” Nash says, after what must have been a series of
harsh stares between him and Uncle D. Drazic always wins staring
contests. “Then I’ll do it on my own.”
“Nash—” Jagger shouts.
“Don’t you ‘Nash’ me. You don’t fucking
get it, all right?” Nash huffs. “I need this.”
Drazic sighs. “So you’d abandon the crew? Elena? Just to
get a cold dish of revenge?”
I grit my teeth. I’m not sure I want to hear his response.
“It doesn’t matter.” Nash’s footsteps move
toward the kitchen. “Nothing matters without Troy.”
He crashes into the kitchen, icy eyes landing right on me. I take a
step back. The eggs hiss against the frying pan, filling the stretch
of silence between us. I want to be angry at him—how dare he
treat me as something so inconsequential? Cast me off so easily over
the memory of his brother? But just like
Then he looks at me with storm clouds in his eyes. “And for
yours.”
Chapter Six
Elena
I wake up to the sounds of arguing. Great. I guess the crew is
finally home. I roll out of bed, throw on some workout clothes, and
twist my hair into a quick bun on top of my head. When the cab
dropped me off last night, Drazic’s house was empty. Our
two-story white clapboard house, wedged into the shadow of the
mountain, usually has no less than three people drifting through it
at all times. But the boys must have run off somewhere with Nash to
try to calm him down, or to run a job, or god knows what else.
Well, if their goal was to calm Nash down, it didn’t work.
I pad downstairs, careful not to make the floorboards groan, not that
they would hear me over their shouting anyway. It’s Drazic,
Nash, and Jagger, stomping around the living room, exhaustion heavy
in their tones. I doubt they’ve slept at all. I slip into the
kitchen and flick the coffee maker on, then dig into the fridge for
some eggs.
“We are not messing with the McManuses,” Drazic
says in the living room. “I just got done trying to smooth shit
over with Mama McManus, and here you are trying to stir it up again.”
“Like I give a shit,” Nash snaps back.
I cringe. Drazic doesn’t take that tone from anyone, but
especially not from Nash. I’m about at my limit with his
attitude. I can’t even imagine how Uncle D is feeling.
“No. Not just no, but hell no. We cannot bring that
ten-ton shitstorm down on our heads. Do you know what they can do to
us? What kind of connections they have?”
“I’m not scared.” Nash huffs. “Not of Mama,
not of Rory, not of any of their friends. I’ll fucking plow
through every last one of them—”
“C’mon, man—” Jagger cries.
“—I will. I don’t care. Eye for an eye, man. I’m
fucking owed .”
Jagger flops onto a chair with a rattle of his wallet chain. “Grow
the fuck up, man. I love you, but I’m not sticking my neck out.
Not where the McManuses are concerned. They got the cops deep in
their pockets, man. Their boys inside the prisons . . .
They’re everywhere. ”
“We don’t exactly want them looking into our own dark
corners,” Drazic says.
“A bunch of fucking pussies.” And with that, Nash slams
his fist against the wall.
I jump, spatula clattering out of my hands. Shit. I really don’t
want to get dragged into a crew argument. For me, crew arguments must
be how it feels for other people to watch their parents fighting. My
chest gets tight and my heart aches, desperately wanting everyone to
be right and wrong at the same time.
But like a little kid, I’m helpless to change anything. I’m
part of the crew and not all at the same time. I only get mixed up in
the crew’s business when they let me. Kind of like my
relationship with Nash. Apparently he’s only shown me his fun,
carefree side. This darkness is something new, and again, I feel
helpless to change it.
Whatever their concern is with the McManuses, it sounds like it’s
better for everyone that I not know about it.
“Fine,” Nash says, after what must have been a series of
harsh stares between him and Uncle D. Drazic always wins staring
contests. “Then I’ll do it on my own.”
“Nash—” Jagger shouts.
“Don’t you ‘Nash’ me. You don’t fucking
get it, all right?” Nash huffs. “I need this.”
Drazic sighs. “So you’d abandon the crew? Elena? Just to
get a cold dish of revenge?”
I grit my teeth. I’m not sure I want to hear his response.
“It doesn’t matter.” Nash’s footsteps move
toward the kitchen. “Nothing matters without Troy.”
He crashes into the kitchen, icy eyes landing right on me. I take a
step back. The eggs hiss against the frying pan, filling the stretch
of silence between us. I want to be angry at him—how dare he
treat me as something so inconsequential? Cast me off so easily over
the memory of his brother? But just like
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