Page 112 of The Forever Crew (Adamson All-Boys Academy 3)
“That still doesn’t explain why Church was underground in a mask and robes,” I say, grimacing slightly and holding my palms out in an apology. “I’m not accusing you of anything—I’ve learned my lesson—but … I have to know.”
Church sighs and looks down at the floor for a moment, like he’s got something he wants to say but isn’t sure how it’ll be received. When he looks up, there’s a devastating amount of guilt in his gaze.
“Ian Dave and Nathan, they asked me to help. The sting operation had been in planning for a while; they knew they were coming for the Fellowship that night, regardless of what happened.”
“You … knew all of that was going to happen?” I choke out, thinking of the way he looked down at me as he was escorting me to prom, the way he looked into my eyes. How could he have known what was going on and let us fall right into the trap?
“Not the thing with the drugged desserts or the secret church,” he admits, cringing slightly and gritting his teeth.
“You’re not a mind reader, a magician, or an FBI agent, bro, relax,” Ranger chastises softly.
“When Mark and Selena stormed out after their fight, I followed them.” Church sighs, like he’s tired, too. We’re all tired, I think. “After I called Ian, I followed them, then I disabled the cultist who was watching the door they went in through.”
“Ian let you follow those psychos?” I ask, blinking through surprise, but Church just shakes his head.
“Not at all. He cursed me out actually, but I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you two.”
“We’re beyond grateful,” Spencer says, his expression darkening slightly. How we never figured out he was a mark, too, I don’t know.
“The rest of us were lying in our leftover salads,” Ranger says with a bit of a growl, and a warm flush in his cheeks. Church gives him a look and smiles slightly.
“Mark entered the tunnels the same way that we went. I was only able to follow at a distance, and without much light. Otherwise I would’ve recognized earlier that we’d traveled through another door into the sewer system. If I’d only figured that out sooner …”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, thinking of that moment when I was lying on the altar, those creepy psychos chanting around me, the candles flickering. I was certain I was going to die in there. Certain of it. “I’m glad you guys are here. What’s going to happen to your dad, Ranger?” I ask, but he just shakes his head.
“I don’t care, just so long as I never have to see him again. He and Rick took Jenica from me, and there’s no coming back from that. They can both rot in prison for all I care.”
I wonder if someday, Ranger’s going to think about what really happened, and break down. But if he does, that’ll be okay, because we’ll be here.
We’ll all be here.
“Does this mean we get to enjoy the rest of the year without Aster trying to crash our Culinary Club meetings?” I ask, and the twins grin.
“Told you she was guilty,” they say, crossing their arms over their chests.
“You certainly did,” I say, grinning back and wishing I could rip this IV out and go home. Only, I’m a big baby and it’d totally hurt, and I’m not dumb enough to mess with medical shit that I don’t understand. “So, who’s going to be the first guy to bring me a strawberry milkshake from the Jaw Flapper? First one to do it gets to cuddle in bed with me.”
“You think we’re actually to bother fighting over something like that?” Ranger says, and then pauses. “I better go get you something to eat though.”
“Oh, no way, man, that shake is mine,” Spencer says, and they smirk at each other while the twins struggle to push each other back.
“I’ll get the shake,” Church says, slipping out the door, but not before stopping to smile at me. “And anything else you want. Anything.” He steps out and closes the door as I laugh, putting my face in my hands as Dad steps into the room and starts to yell headmaster-y things at the boys.
Ah, life is good, isn’t it?The wind swishes my skirts around my thighs as I stand outside the imposing stone walls of Adamson Academy (formerly known as Adamson All-Boys Academy).
“It looks less like a school, and more like a castle,” I say, grinning as I repeat the first thought I ever had about this place aloud.
“More like a church that used to hide a creepy underground chamber for cultists,” Spencer says, raising both brows at me. I laugh and bump his shoulder with mine, moving into the hallway to the cheers of the other students. To be fair, I didn’t do anything but get stabbed. But senior year of high school? That totally makes you cool.
