To survive where I live, you have two options. You can be a Normal - a cheerleader, jock, member of the debate team, or on the yearbook committee. You pretend everything is normal. Or you can be crew. You insult us? We hurt you. You hurt us? We really hurt you. And if you f--k with us, we will end you. My name is Bren. I'm the only female in the Wolf Crew - the best, fiercest, and most dangerous crew there is - and we have a rule: There's no falling in love. Well...too late.

I have loved Channing Monroe all my life. In first grade, he asked for my Trapper Keeper. I hit him in the head with it. Third grade, we were best friends. We kissed in seventh grade. In eighth grade, he turned into a bad boy and the rest was a tumultuous storm. Growing up, the problem was never love for us. Bad times. Good times. There were times when I felt our love in every inch of my body, vibrating, making me feel like it could bring me back to life. The problem was us. The problem is that we're living in two different worlds now. Fallen Crest and its millionaires for me.

Pine River was supposed to be a new start for me. And it was, especially attending school with my three overprotective cousins, who were the triplets at the top of the social hierarchy. Except they weren’t alone there, and the first day when I came to school, I saw him. Scout Raiden. Tall. Lean. Tattooed. Mesmerizing. He was a golden god with dark and piercing eyes—looking like he wanted to eat me up. The feeling was mutual, and that was a problem.

I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking? Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me? But here I am. And then I walked past his room. He's a giant—no softness, all muscle. And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it. He made me see stars, literally, because the second time I saw him, I tripped. Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling. Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show. He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.

Tall. Muscled. Tattooed. Shane King was seriously hot, and seriously not a good guy. He went by the name Ghost with his motorcycle club, and he was now their national vice president. When Shane and his club arrived in town, they began doing favors for my family. I didn’t know why. I didn’t want to know. Favors came with strings attached. I didn’t want strings attaching me to the Red Demons. Shane was a different beast, though. I should steer clear of him, except I couldn’t. He was everywhere, and he always looked like he wanted to tie me up in all sorts of strings.