Always Crew - Tijan Page 0,68

anywhere, he would dislocate his own shoulder. That pain alone usually helped keep people in place, and he was no different.

I felt his head moving. A roar came from him, and fuck—he was about to bite my leg.

I gritted my teeth, readying for the bite, but my brother was there. “You fucking hurt her, you’ll lose your knee, asshole.”

The guy paused, and I had him. I would’ve had him anyway, but Channing’s threat saved me from getting a tetanus shot and stitches. A rush of feet stampeded over to us, and we were surrounded by the rest of my team.

My team.

Mine.

I was sweating. My heart was trying to pound out of my chest. That feeling resonated with me. But I had found my place. Finally.

Brock and Shetland got to us first. The rest were a few seconds after, Hawk bringing up the rear with wide eyes and her brows arched high. She had her hand on her radio, but she wasn’t talking or holding it in place. Both Big and Burly nodded to me, grunting.

The surprise was evident on both Brock and Shetland’s faces, too.

I was still holding the guy in place, and for a second, no one moved. They took in the scene. I looked at my brother, and he’d been watching me. A small grin was there, warmth and something else flooding over his face before he shook it a second. His hands went to his own vest that he was wearing and hooked in, hanging from it.

His chest lifted up and lowered. “Okay.”

He knew. He knew this was what I wanted to do, and I felt my own smile spreading. I couldn’t wait to tell Cross about this.

Channing’s eyes closed as he continued to shake his head, but then his hands dropped, and he stepped toward Brock. “Monroe. I’m assuming you’re my sister’s boss?” He gestured to me. “We tracked her phone, saw everything unfolding as we made our approach.”

Brock moved to shake Channing’s hand, and at the same time, Moose swooped down. He tapped my arm, and as I let go, he hauled the guy off of me and shoved him at Big. Then his hand went to me and I was airborne in the next moment. I was hauled up, set on my feet, and hands were patting me down.

Channing was watching.

When Moose stepped back, he nodded at him. “No holes or cuts. She’s in one piece, just scraped up a bit.”

I looked at Moose, and his eyes were twinkling at me. He cuffed me on the back of my arm. “Did good, Little Monroe.”

I grinned and hit his chest. “Thanks.”

Hawk moved in as Big and Burly slapped cuffs on the guy and moved him to their truck. Hawk looked me up and down, doing her own check. “Damn. I didn’t know you had that in you.” She looked at Brock. “She’s like a spider monkey. Did you know that?”

He shook his head, giving me another assessing look, and then returning back to my brother. “Gramps and Bonnie said she could hold her own.”

“Damn right she can.” Channing came for me, his arms opened, and I stepped into them.

He hugged me, squeezing me, and I knew he was proud of me. He cupped the back of my head, and whispered before stepping back, “Jesus. Please just don’t die doing this work.”

I tipped my head back, a wry grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Back at you.”

Shared understanding and acknowledgement flowed between us.

We were both Monroes. We both came out of our home, no matter how broken it was, and we were here. We were both doing the same thing. We were at different points, but this was a commonality. I knew my brother needed the fighting, but so did I…and he knew that, too.

He cupped the back of my head one last time, and moved in. His lips pressed to my forehead. “Fucking love you, sis.”

I clasped him back, just hugging him.

Then he stepped back, letting me go, and a whole different look came over him. Edgy, wariness, and danger. It was strong and sudden, enough that everyone around us quieted, picking up something new was coming. At this, Channing grated out, “We need to talk about Dad.”

BREN

After we took the bail jumper to jail, Channing and Moose met us back at the offices.

Justin was behind the register, helping out a group of guys and handing them their shoes. He watched us come in, all of us wearing our vests with an almost