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Mag blinks. Then, he pulls me up to straddle his lap, placing his hands on my cheeks like I didn’t just announce I was going to murder his boss. He stares into my eyes for a long while before saying, “Thank you for telling me your secret.”
“Why does the new guy get to hold her?” Oscar whispers.
“Shut the fuck up, Drego,” Brawler barks back, clearly exasperated.
Oscar shrugs, but I turn my full attention back to Magnum because he took that admission like a champ. I raise an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he says. “I knew it had to be serious since you refused to leave the Heights.” He drops his hands to my shoulders, squeezing me briefly.
I eye him, waiting for the moment where he tells me it can’t be done. Or that it’s too dangerous, but Magnum doesn’t utter any of those words. He just turns me around in his lap so I can lean over and grab the cocoa he made me.
I look around, watching each of them take the moment in with a quiet confidence, and it warms my heart. This moment had been scaring the shit out of me for the longest time, but now that we’re here—together—a little piece of the other side comes into view, making me crave it even more.
One day, we’re all going to be out of the Heights, and I’m going to love every single second of it.
6
It turns out the thing Magnum used to scan Oscar and Brawler’s cell phones is a device used to detect bugs—listening and recording technology. Apparently, he’s been using it all along, checking my apartment since the moment I got it, as well as the cars we use.
I have a lot to learn about this life. It never dawned on me anyone might want to hear what I’m saying or see what I’m doing unless it was to get to Johnny and the Crew.
Magnum’s relinquished his hold on me. I’m sitting on the floor in front of him, legs crossed at the ankles. Brawler’s in front of me, our feet rubbing against one another while Oscar eye fucks me from his spot on the couch. I swear every time I catch him looking, it’s as if he’s undressing and doing naughty, naughty things to me.
Magnum runs his hand through my hair. “It’s not just other people I was worried about,” he says, continuing our conversation on what’s been going down since I left. “I did it in case Johnny was spying on you.”
I still. Brawler stops playing footsy with me. I tweak my neck back.
Mag shakes his head. “He never did.”
A sense of relief coats my suddenly buzzing skin. I’m going to come clean with Johnny about everything, but I need to bide my time. If he saw anything between me and the other guys, he would get the wrong impression. I’m not with them and not him. I’m not playing him. I’m withallof them. A family, like Brawler said. I get that from his point of view he might not think that, so that’s why I have to make him get behind the rest of the guys, or die trying because that’s probably exactly what it will come down to.
“Thank fuck for that.” Oscar runs his hands through his dark hair and then puts his ballcap back on. Have I mentioned I think it’s so damn sexy when guys wear baseball hats? Especially when they look like Oscar when they do. He owns that shit. When Oscar lifts his gaze, he smirks at me. “You’ve got a little something,” he says, pointing to the side of his mouth.
“Ha. Ha.” I wipe my mouth anyway in case I was drooling because I wouldn’t put it past myself. I’ve been away from them for six weeks. I give myself a mental high five to the face to keep myself on track. “Where are we at with Gregory? Johnny says he got away, but the Crew got a couple of his other men.”
Magnum traces the pad of his thumb over my neck. “We did. I shot the one guy. He didn’t die, but a couple of the other guards were able to chase their car after they left the scene. They found where they were hanging out and took a few of them out. Gregory got away though. He never made the stop back to their safe house.”
“So, that’s why Johnny and K are staying in Chicago? They don’t want to be traced back to the killings?”
“It’s just better all-around if they stay away,” Mag tells us. “They don’t want to be implicated, and every time there’s something big like this, something public, the media and the police make a big show about trying to do something about the gang problem.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. That’s not always the truth. Sometimes they’re more than happy to look the other way as my family well knows.
“Interesting that he didn’t come back though,” Brawler offers. I already know he’s judging Johnny for staying away. For not being here for me.
Magnum halts his touch on me. “It’s not his fault. It’s K’s. I know all of us have some weird shit wrapped up in the Crew, but I’ll be the first one to say that Johnny cares for Kyla. One hundred percent. I’ve never seen him like this. Parts of him that I thought were long gone are coming out. He’s furious with his father that he’s not back here right now. He’s staying away to help Kyla at this point because if he comes here for her, K won’t be happy about what Kyla’s doing to the guy he’s had his sights on for taking over. He won’t take it out on Johnny. It’ll be Kyla who suffers.”
Brawler’s ears blush to a deep crimson, and the rest of his body goes rigid like the calm before a storm.
“Don’t kill the messenger, man,” Mag says. “I’m just saying if you’re doubting that Johnny actually cares for Kyla, think again.” He rubs his thumb just under my ear. “I think she might just be his savior.”
Goosebumps sprout over my skin. The thought should terrify me, but instead, I’m ready. Bring it on. All of us can help Johnny. All of us can help each other. Johnny might need it the most right now, but this is going to be a long road for every single one of us.
“I just don’t understand how she’s going to do that,” Brawler says. He pulls his feet back and sits cross-legged. “In case any of us are missing the point, she also wants to kill his dad, which I don’t think he’ll just take lying down.”
“He’s got a point,” Oscar says. “Maybe you’re working on something that just won’t happen. Can you give up killing K if it means being with Johnny? Because I sure as fuck would like to get out of the Heights as soon as possible. Football’s over. Fucking—”
Oscar’s rant has me squeezing my nails into myself. “Nope. No. Not happening. Big Daddy K is going to pay for what he did to me. I’m not leaving the Heights until it’s done.” I meet Oscar’s gaze. When I see him, I see his body wrecked by more than just football. His mind, too. Growing up anywhere else, Oscar would’ve been someone. Colleges would be knocking his door down. I saw it enough in the fancy little prep school I used to go to. No wonder why he’s so damn ready to get out of here. “I don’t want to keep you here,” I tell him, meaning every word.