My grin doubled. Now we were getting somewhere.
Taz snorted again. “She should. You can’t bully her with whispers and rumors. You tell people she and my brother are together, they’re either going to be like duh, or they’re not going to give a shit.” “What can she do to me? Physically assault me? I’ll have her arrested.” Taz stepped forward, her voice low. “Pat was working at the hospital last night. She called me because a guy came in with his jaw broken, three fractured ribs, and he can’t even sit to take a shit right now. She asked him what happened, and you know what he told her?” She didn’t wait. “He said he touched a Wolf girl.” “If he had touched Bren, he would’ve been sliced up.” Sunday was laughing, but there was a thread of caution there now. I heard it. “Pat talked to the cops later, and one mentioned that Jordan Pitts’ little sister reported a sexual assault a few days ago. You think that’s a coincidence?” A soft “shit” came from Monica. “Do you think they won’t deal with you somehow if you’re going after a member?” Taz paused, her voice soft, eerily soft. “You go after one, you go after all. You know the rules.” Sunday’s closed arms jostled. “She’d have to know I was doing something and prove it. Come on.” She sounded haughty, but her caution was morphing into fear. A nervous laugh left her. “It’d be rumors. She couldn’t do anything to me.” “They’ve done worse for less,” Taz snapped. “Stop whatever you’re doing. Just stop. You’ll regret it.” Sunday snorted. “How’s she even going to know?” “Trust me,” Taz said. She edged closer to the closet. “You’ll be surprised how quick she’ll know.” “Only if you say something.” She advanced a step toward Taz. “But you’re not going to do that, right? You’re not a narc. You wouldn’t want that rumor to get around either. A member’s sister is a narc?” She waited a beat. “Right, Taz?” No one moved. No one said a word. Tense silence filled the room. I waited. I could stand up. I could step out. I could make Sunday piss her pants, but I didn’t. It wasn’t fear that held me back. It was curiosity. I wanted to know how Taz would handle that threat, because on the list of them, that was a doozy. A damned doozy. “You’re going to regret this,” Taz finally said. “Hey!” a voice called from below. “Where are you guys?” Sunday huffed out, “Whatever. My fight’s not with you, Taz, but don’t say anything. She knows, and I’ll know it was you who squealed.” “I don’t think—” “Shut it, Mon. You already started this train. It left the station.” “Guys!” came another shout from below. “Where are you?! We have to start.” Sunday cursed, almost stomping from the room. “They can’t handle being alone for five minutes? I’m cursed with the stupidest squad ever.” As she walked farther down the hallway, her stomping faded, then “What?! We were busy up there” carried back to the room. A soft murmur followed in response, but I couldn’t make it out. “Taz?” Monica had stayed back. I still had a perfect view of her hands, hands she was wringing together in front of her. “Are you going to tell Bren?” Taz was silent. A full ten seconds passed. Even I was affected by the silence. It was palpable. When she did speak, her voice was unnaturally soft. “I’m going to say this clearly. If you don’t do anything, Bren won’t do anything to you. Do you understand?” “Yeah, but you’re not going to say anything. Right?” She gestured toward the door. “You heard Sunday. If Bren finds out, she’ll blame you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Taz snorted. “Trust me. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle Sunday just fine on my own.” Monica let out a breath. “I suppose we should go down to the meeting. I’m glad you decided to join again.” They left together, but I heard Taz say, “Well, we’ll see. I’m not going to let Sunday boss me around like last time.” They walked down the hallway, and I remained in the closet. When I stepped out, I’d have to take care of this Sunday problem. Nip it in the bud, get it done quickly. I didn’t like to let things linger, and the whole Drake secret was one too many things hanging over my head already. But right now, I was tired. I was seventeen, and I felt like I was nearing fifty-seven. Was that normal? Was life supposed to be this hard? This grueling day after day? I liked Cross’ closet. He didn’t have that many clothes, and what he had was pushed to the back, so I barely felt them brushing against my feet. Four closed-in walls. Others might get claustrophobic, but not me. No one could sneak up on me in here. It was one of the only places I could sleep soundly. That’s what I’d been doing when they came in, which meant school was out. If Cross wasn’t here… I reached for my phone. He’d be looking for me somewhere else. There were three texts from him. Where r u?