Not that it will change how I see or treat them. Cyrus will still be an entitled asshole with an epic mouth. Bray will still be a giant flirt who gives the best cuddles. Asher will still be an incredibly talented soft soul.
But I hate being in the dark and not knowing who I’m dealing with. My past has taught me that mistake over and over. Never again.
When we reach the party, I get off Asher’s bike, and with a flick of my hair, I walk inside, leaving them to follow after me. Blair waits for no man—or woman. They want to party? Well, so do I, and I won’t follow them around like a lost fucking puppy just because we fucked. I’m my own person, and even though they say I’m Crew, it won’t change how I act, party, dress, or play. This is my life, not theirs, and they are just along for the ride.
“Blair,” Cyrus barks, but I just shake my ass as I slip through the open front door. I’ve been to a party at this mansion before. There are a lot of rich kids, booze, drugs, and wannabes, but it’s a good time. I make a beeline for the bar and grab a beer before circulating. I shake my hips to the music as I nod and greet people as I pass. People who looked down at me or ignored me before now notice me—I blame the Crew brothers. They treat me with respect and a cautious distance, especially the men, which makes me sigh, even as I search the crowd for the one person I can admit I want to see.
Faye.
Asher is right, I need to make up with her. It’s stupid to fight, she’s my best friend. She was right too. I’m guarding myself so I don’t get hurt, but I can’t walk through life like that. If I’m constantly blocking myself from pain, I block out the love and good stuff too. Faye deserves a better friend, but she’s got me, and I’m not going anywhere. I will make this right and try to open up more. I might never be ready to talk about what happened to me, even my own memories and nightmares block some parts of my past out, but I can offer a sliver. I can let her see inside and hope she sticks around after.
She’s nowhere to be found, though, and I turn with disappointment, chugging the beer before grabbing a shot and tossing that back too. I just hope I’m not too late to salvage our friendship. She was the first person I met in this city, but more than that, she brought me back to life. She taught me to laugh and love again. Sometimes you can find your soulmate in friendship, and I feel like I have with her. I’ve never been this close with someone. Faye slid so easily into my life, and now that she isn’t here, there is a huge hole.
She’s right, I broke her heart and mine in the process. That’s what’s causing this pain I’m trying to numb with booze and cocks.
I spot Leigh then. She’s alone, leaning against a wall with a sad expression, and when I follow her gaze, I realise she’s staring at the Crew brothers as they slap backs, grin, and joke with men on their way to their thrones in the back—three white leather sofas where girls are waiting to fawn all over them. Their tits are pushed up, their dresses are hiked high, and their fake eyelashes flutter, making me grin before I realise they are Leigh’s friends. Shit, how fake are they? Poor girl looks lost as she chugs her drink and turns away. I feel bad for what I did, but I know it was inevitable. Someone would come between her and Cyrus, maybe even him. He never saw her as anything but a fuck, and she deserves so much better than that. I just wish I hadn’t been the trigger on the gun.
“Blair,” Bray calls, waving me over as he heads to the sofas. I ignore him and go for another drink. A moment later, a hand catches my wrist before dragging me back. I turn and glare at Asher as he grins, pulling me over to Cyrus and Bray. Cyrus glares at anyone who gets too close, while Bray grins and smiles, flirting with the girls and guys surrounding them.
Asher lets go of my hand and drops into the seat next to Cyrus with a grin. “Family sits here.” He winks, the bastard, knowing I can’t stay mad at his cute smile. I’m about to sit when a redhead drops into Bray’s lap and glares at me. I blink before rolling my eyes at her bitchiness.
“No, sit here,” Bray says, glaring at the woman as he leans into her. “Move, please.”
“I’m just gonna sit here,” I start, but he reaches out, captures my hand, and tugs me over before letting go and glaring at the redhead who still sits on his knee.
“Don’t you want to sit with me, baby?” she purrs, running her nails down his chest.
“I said fucking move, that’s her seat,” Bray snaps, his usual flirtatious nature morphing into anger.
The redhead glances from me to him in confusion. She’s his type for sure, but he doesn’t care. Bray leans back, as if he’s trying to avoid touching her, as she rubs herself on his knee. With a bounce, he sends her flying to the floor, and he peers at her in disgust before his eyes move back to me. His scowl disappears into a grin.
“Come on, Darling, I got a seat right here for you.” He pats his thighs, and with a roll of my eyes, I step over the girl and drop onto his lap. I ignore the whispers and stares as my stepbrother’s hand strokes down my back to cup my ass. He runs his nose up my shoulder and neck before reaching my ear, his warm, bourbon scented breath washing over me. I shiver as he presses his mouth closer.
“You’re mine tonight,” he murmurs, and I tremble from the hunger in his tone, even as I smile and roll my hips so he can feel my pussy.
“I’m no one’s, baby, unless I want to be,” I say loud enough for all of them to hear. Even as I speak, my eyes go to Asher as a guy leans into him, whispering in his ear. Asher’s expression turns serious for a moment. The guy isn’t our age, he’s older for sure and covered in tattoos. Who is he? When he walks away, Asher leans into Cyrus. I can’t hear them over the music, but Bray doesn’t seem concerned, still feeling me up. Cyrus turns to Bray and then twists his lips and relaxes back when he catches me watching.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing, just business,” he answers before his eyes scan over the crowd.
“Aren’t I part of that now? You told everyone, including me, I’m Crew. What does that mean?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Bray says. “Just look pretty on my lap.”
Anger flows through me. “I’m not a fucking trophy,” I snap, sitting rigidly, “or something to show off.”
“That’s exactly what you are,” Cyrus teases.
“Fuck you. What do you do apart from run drugs?” I demand.
That gets his attention, and he leans closer angrily. “Keep that quiet. You don’t need to worry about what we do. It’s family only.”
“I thought I was family,” I retort, my eyebrow arched.
He scowls but ignores me, and I fume. So they won’t even tell me? All this going around and telling everyone I’m family now, Crew, and yet I don’t know what that means. They have painted targets on my back with that name, but I have no idea who my enemies are now. I’m just supposed to expect it and let them run everything and look after me like a weak little bitch.
Fuck that.