“It’s not just the members,” Oscar says, clearly distracted. “It’s apparently anyone who wants to recruit in.” He motions toward the side of the laptop. “I got you that phone. Johnny’s orders. I already gave out your new number to everyone. I’ll call you later.”
Oscar pulls the keys to his bike from his pocket as he exits Mag’s apartment.
“To answer your question,” Brawler says. “So many recruits. More than half the guys at school want to join. For some of them, it’s their only choice for anything. But there’s about ten junior members who are already in.”
My head spins. I’d only looked at major players when I researched the Crew. I don’t know why, but I never thought about all the little guys. The young ones, like me, getting caught up in this life when you could have some psycho like Gregory decide he wants to take you out to send a message to the higher-ups.
Coward.
“I’m coming with you,” I say, getting to my feet and facing Magnum.
He sighs. “I knew you were going to do this.”
“Johnny will get pissed,” Brawler offers.
I shrug. “I want to know what happened to Farmingham. Plus, I’m in the Crew now and K gave us an order. I’m rolling with it.” I head toward the door. “Be ready in five. I just need to change.”
Mag and Brawler exchange a look, but I ultimately win, and it’s mine and Brawler’s asses parked in the back of the car as we make our way to the old warehouse.
8
We arrive at the rundown warehouse, and a flood of emotions almost bowls me over. For starters, this place looks a lot shittier in the middle of the day. Little things stick out, like the litter of human waste on the sidewalk leading toward the alley. Cigarette butts, empty McDonald’s fries pouches, plastic wrappers, and just general trash dropped and forgotten.
When we step inside, though, it’s back to normal. The place looks the same as I remembered it, except it smells a little better without the raging fighters’ sweat and blood pooled over the ground. The same dim lighting leaves the shitty pallet-like seating in a haze. The place lacks the raucous crowd, making the area feel both bigger and void of life.
My heart squeezes painfully. I miss this. Brawler’s fingers tangle in mine momentarily, and I glance over to find him staring. His resolute blue eyes shine, and I know he’s following my train of thought. From what I’ve gathered, they shut the fights down. The cops were out in full force, so they didn’t want to dangle the underground fights in their faces like a carrot. A snowflake can turn into an avalanche quickly.
“Any idea where this...body is supposed to be?” Brawler whispers. His trained eye searches the interior. He knows this place better than anyone.
Magnum shrugs but moves forward on confident legs. He’s stealth, hands at his sides, eyes darting everywhere. “I don’t know much about the kid, but he was here, and he wasn’t supposed to be. Where do you think he’d be if that’s the case?”
Brawler’s gaze tracks upward. At once, we all look with him at the box they built for Johnny and the other higher-ups in the Crew to sit while watching the fights. I’ve spent my fair share of time up there, too, and yeah, it’s by far the most comfortable spot in the building. Why Farmingham would be up there, I don’t know, but he certainly wouldn’t find a better spot unless he likes chipped tile in bathrooms.
Magnum takes his gun out of the waistband of his pants and edges forward. His knees are bent, arms outstretched in front of him with his finger already on the trigger. “Watch her.”
Brawler moves me behind him as we follow Mag up the steps. There’s no getting around the creaks of our footfall on the old wood, so hopefully, whoever killed Farmingham is long gone, not waiting around to watch this play out.
“How did someone even find him?” I whisper.
Brawler reaches back for my hand, and I put mine in his. He gives it a squeeze. “I’m not the only one who comes in and out of here. Anyone with a key could’ve found him and reported it.”
Magnum crouches as we approach the box with its face full of windows. We’re staying just under the ledge to remain hidden. He climbs to the landing then turns to look at us. “I’ll check the place out. The vantage point isn’t ideal, so stay back