With a peace sign thrown over my head, I walk toward the house.
I drop into the old wooden chair and pull out my binder. Maybell enforces this bogus ass group homework rule where we’re all required to sit around each other and get our work done. And lucky me, I’m stuck at the cards table with Victoria this week.
She side-eyes me several times before she turns her head to gain my attention fully.
“What?” I ask, not bothering to look at her.
“Do you even know the history with the Brayshaw boys or is that not necessary to push your thighs open?”
“Not necessary at all,” I respond, uninterested in her gossip session. Rumors are close to never true.
“If you don’t like people assuming you’re easy, maybe you should stop responding to things like you do.”
I slap my pencil on the table and look up at her. “I could swear up and down I wasn’t, argue with every person who accused and still get nowhere. I’m not going to waste my breath on judgy assholes. People are gonna believe what they want, period. No point in trying to change a perception that’s engraved already.”
“So you let everyone else win?”
“No. They lose, like you did just now.”
When her forehead creases I keep going.
“Your entire purpose with all that was to try and get a rise out of me. You wanted me to push or fight back and you didn’t get it. Therefore, I win.”
She rolls her eyes, going back to her work.
And just like I expected, she starts rambling not five minutes later.
“The boys aren’t actually brothers, but they might as well be. Were raised together since they were infants, by Maybell herself, on this property even.”
I try to keep writing but she hooked me, and her sneer tells me she knows it.
She glances around to make sure nobody is listening before turning back to me. “Their dads were all best friends, grew up together, same society and power bullshit – the Brays of their time. The moms, though, they were nomads. Not from any of the elite families. Money hungry whores maybe, who knows.” She gives a nasty grin. “You know all about that.”
“Fuck you. And what do you mean elite families?”
She gawks at me. “The Gravens and the Brayshaws, the founding families of this town.” Her brows lift and when I give a small shrug, she shakes her head. “Do you pay attention to anything around here?”
“I guess not. I just thought they hated each other. Fucked each other’s girls or something.” No need to mention what Vienna told me. She likely already knows.
“They do hate each other, but the Gravens and Brayshaws were partners, in the beginning. But then the Brayshaws brought in another family.”
She holds my stare and I guess.
“Maddoc’s family?”
“Yep, none of the boys are Brayshaw by blood, but his family was the first to be pulled in. Then, over time, followed the other two boys' families, ‘course it was before any of them were born. Anyway, after adding the three, suddenly the Brayshaws had a four-tier empire. The families were pinned against each other and the town was divided, people took sides.”
“Sounds a little out there...” I trail off, unsure if she’s feeding me garbage for fun.
“You have no idea. Here’s where it gets twisted. Supposedly, they all were out on some backend job together where things went wrong, and they were shot at. One guy was killed instantly, but Maddoc’s dad was able to get Royce and Captain’s dads out before they were killed, too, only for them to die at the hospital later.”
“Damn.”
Victoria nods.
I eye her. “How do you know this?”
“Maybell has a book, a journal-like thing and some files, from Roland – that’s Maddoc’s dad’s name. He explains it all in there, some newspaper articles and stuff. He gave it to her when the last blood Brayshaw died and he took over. That’s when this property became his and he moved Maybell and the boys in. Supposedly, he was with them every day the first couple of years with her help, but I guess it was too much and his thug life won out over the daddy role. He became a sporadic parent after that. Anyway, guess he thought she might need to give them answers one day and probably didn’t expect to be alive long enough to give them himself.”
“You’ve read it?”
“No, but others who are gone now did and passed on the information. I don’t ever want to see it. If I do, I’m involved if they ever find out we snooped.”
“Do they know?”
“According to Maybell’s notes, she told them when they were twelve. Nobody talks about it. I doubt anyone outside of the few of us here know, and none of us are dumb enough to spread rumors outside these walls. It’s just something we share with the older girls here since they live on the property.”
“They live on the property?” My head pulls back.
“God, you are dumb.” She eyes me. “Behind the house, the dirt road they’re always on? That leads to their place. Soon as they hit high school, Maybell moved up here, left them back there on their own. Doubt it’s legal, but nobody here is gonna question or exploit them. This is the safest place many of us have ever been. All I know is Maybell gets a monthly check on top of all the state funding for us.”
“Why Maybell?” I ask despite myself.
“Guess she worked for Brayshaws, was Maddoc’s dad’s nanny even.”
My brows pull in. “So where’s the dad?”
“Prison.” She leans forward to whisper again. “He got caught up with some crackhead chick in a stolen car full of goods, and they took them both in. And you know the deal, she cried rape, ratted on him and went home the same night. He got fifteen years.” She sits back. “The boys were in elementary school when it happened.”
I fall back into my chair. “So, she wasn’t raped?”
“He swears no, but who knows. Men will say anything when their back’s against the wall, just like the woman did.”
“If they’re so powerful, how’d he get convicted? Money always talks.”
“A Graven talked quicker.”
“What do you mean?” I draw out slowly.
“The prosecuting lawyer was a Graven.”
I fly forward in my seat, my stomach suddenly turning. “No...”
“Yup.” She smirks. “Fucked up shit, right?”
“How the hell could that even be allowed?”
She shrugs. “Like you said, money talks. Who knows the real deal?”
Fuck, man. No wonder big man flipped his shit. The Gravens had a helping hand, in not the only hand, in taking away the boys’ only parent.
“And what about the moms, where’d they go?”
“Murdered by the maid. Guess Rolland was fucking them all not long after he moved them and the babies in and she wanted him to herself, got life instead.” She closes her book and shrugs a shoulder. “Anyway. I can only handle so much of you. I’m out.”
And she walks away, leaving me with a mess of fucking thoughts I have no business mulling over.
At school the next day, the only thing I can think about is the story Victoria told me and whether or not it’s true. I thought about asking Vienna, but I don’t wanna stir up shit if she’s clueless. And I think she might be one of those chasing the popular train. The last thing she needs, if she is, is a form of blackmail that will only backfire.
Which is exactly why I hid in the trees this morning and waited for all the girls to leave, knowing Maybell and her helper had to hit the grocery store today.
I slip in through my window and head straight for Maybell’s room, making quick work of picking the lock – she has to know half of us here could get in if we wanted, maybe the county requires it.
I check the basic hiding places like under the bed, top of the closet, bottom of the drawers, already knowing I’d come up empty, and I do. Then I move on to the drug house hiding places I’ve seen firsthand – the underside of the bathroom counter, the floor air vents and possible secret compa
rtments under the throw rug, but I come up empty. I stand and spin around slowly, letting my eyes scan over every inch of the room. A knitting kit sitting in the corner of the desk with an old magazine and Bible perfectly on top of it catches my eye.
I pull it out and lift the lid, smirking when I find a binder inside.
I flip it open, and right there in the first clear sleeve is a hand-written letter addressed to “my boys.” I close it, place the empty box, magazine and Bible back where they were, lock her door and head back for my assigned room.
I pull out my mattress and make quick work of jamming the binder under the cheap headboard and then put everything back in place, sneak back out my window and head for school.
I don’t know what’s in there. All I know is nobody has a right to it but the guys.
I make my way to class, ignoring everyone all morning until Royce saunters over at lunch.
“What’s on your mind, RaeRae?” Royce leans forward to whisper in my ear. “You’re looking a bit tense.”
Captain drops down on the other side of me. “I can help with that.”
“We can help with that,” Royce adds and they both grin.
I roll my eyes.
Maddoc walks up right then, his face blank as he looks between us. He holds my gaze a moment before purposely letting his float across the room. When it pauses, mine decides to follow, finding his on Chloe as she leans over a cafeteria table with a smirk.
A ping that feels a lot like jealousy hits in my ribs, and I look away, but not before he catches me watching.
Maddoc goes to step away and Captain stands to join him. They both look to Royce, who hesitates, but of course he too stands and the three of them walk away, not one glancing back.
Not sure why it bothers me when I never wanted to be interrupted in the first place.
For the rest of the day, not one of them gets in my way. There’s no habitual stares or inappropriate comments. There isn’t a single word in actually, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed from every other person in this place.
From them, I get stares and whispers and side glances, but I don’t acknowledge their presence – I’m good at avoiding eye contact.
By lunch the next day, I’ve figured it out.
Yesterday, was the start of their public show of release – I’ve finally been “let go” as the groupie.
It’s almost laughable really, how every person picks up on their wordless show.
But it’s whatever, I’m more of a loner type as it is. I didn’t ask for their attention, they forced it on me. I’m happy to be the sideshow.
“Rae!” Bass calls from a few tables over, his feet thrown on the one in front of it.
I tip my chin and he tips his back with a grin, so I slip from my seat and walk his way, feeling several curious eyes on me as I do.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Bishop?”
“Come to the spot tonight, just to kick it. I’m not running the bets, so I get to chill.” He grins. “Chill with me, Rae.”
I laugh lightly, tapping my knuckles on the table. “I might.”
“You might, means you won’t.”
“How do you know?”
He grins. “I speak Raven.”
I laugh and step backward toward the door. “How about a ‘we’ll see?’”
He tosses a piece of a napkin at me. “I’ll take it.”
With a shake of my head, I turn for the exit for some fresh air before the bell rings.
When I look up, my stare locks with Maddoc’s, finding his brows slanted in heavy disapproval. Yet he says nothing.
I leave the cafeteria, annoyed how a single look from the stranger behind me has me feeling fickle.
I brush it off and make my way down the short pathway to the courts where a few younger guys are shooting hoops. I doubt they’re on the team, they’re not all that, but they seem to be having fun.
I laugh when they get excited over a shot made from a few feet in front of the basket with no one around to give them a little run for their money.
The ball bounces and rolls to my feet so I pick it up and toss it back.
The cute guy with shaggy bangs, nods his head with a large smile. “Thanks.”
I shrug, grinning back and he takes that as an invitation to walk over.
I push off the fence to stand straight.
“It’s Rae, right?”
I nod.
“I’m Jeremy.” He reaches out if as he’s going to shake my hand but sees how dirty his is from the ball and pulls it back with a laugh. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine.”
“Right.” He looks behind him, nervously, then back to me and I laugh lightly.
He’s cute, clearly not full of himself, but confident enough to come over here. That’s cool.
“Hey, so now that you’re—”
“Go.”
His eyes fly over my shoulder and my muscles lock, but I don’t look.
I already fucking know who it is.
The guy lifts the ball in the air, then spins around with a tight smile, joining his friends again.
I shake my head with a sigh. “You got a lot of nerve, big man.”
“You make a lot of stupid decisions, Snow. You think that guy or Bass Bishop wants anything from you other than a chance to slip inside you? Because they don’t. All they know is you were handling three men last week, and now were set free. They want their shot.”
“You should help me out,” I deadpan. “Tell them how good it was, big man. You know, put in a solid word in the locker room?”
I turn to face him when he doesn’t respond, and it seems that’s exactly what he wanted.
He crowds my space instantly, forcing me to look up the closer he gets.
“You think you’re worth the time and energy for anything other than a quick fuck in the back seat?” he growls. “Because you’re not. You’re the one they settle for when the worthy pussy is tied-up somewhere else. Not the one they’d work for.”
His eyes rake over me with pure disdain. That, combined with the way his words are delivered with such disgust, is almost enough to wake the weak girl buried deep down inside me.
Almost.
He continues to stare, frustration growing more evident with each passing second. His nostrils flare as his brows push closer. He dips down, bringing his eyes level with mine.
Angry emerald.
He’s mad and he’s mad about it.
Fuck him.
“Get out of my face,” I hiss.
“Get out of my head.”
My brows jump before I can stop them and he jerks away.
He licks his lips, his frown as present as ever, and then he’s gone.
“Well, that didn’t last long.”
I roll my eyes, closing my PE locker, and turn to the pain in the ass behind me.
Chloe smirks. “For a girl who didn’t want them, you sure came in quick and fell out fast.”
“You’re welcome.” I step around her and head for the gym.
“For?”
“For freeing up your man, Clo. That’s what you were worried about, right?” I turn, pushing the door I open with my back. “Him getting tied down before you had your shot.”
“Maddoc doesn’t get tied down.”
“Then why you trying so hard?” I pop a brow. “What’s the point if you can’t keep him all to your bitchy little self?”
“You wouldn’t understand, skank.” Her eyes skim over me in repulsion. “Stay out of my way. It’s my time now.”
“Yeah, it is,” I praise mockingly.
She rolls her eyes and when she pushes past me, I spot the hickey on her neck and my brows snap together.
Then I remind myself I don’t care, forcing a fixed expression as I hit the free mats, but before I can drop down, a guy calls out.
“Hey, Rae, now that your nights are free again, maybe you can show me some tricks your mama taught you.”
I tense a minute, then turn to face him, giving a
fake smile. “You wanna feel something my mama taught me, huh?”
The guy, no fucking clue who he is, licks his lips and nods, his filthy gaze dragging over me as I approach him where he leans against the wall of the weight room.
My lip twitches as I reach him, and I trail my hand down his chest, feeling his abs flex beneath the cotton when my hand passes his abdomen. I pause at his waistband and his hips involuntarily push forward, his shoulders flat against the wall. My fingers float lower, and just before I grasp him through his track pants, a tight grip encloses over my wrist and yanks my hand away.
I shoot my glare left to find Maddoc at my side, his eyes hard.
I lift a brow and his frown deepens, so I lift my knee, jamming it right into the douche in front of me’s dick.
“Fuck,” he cries out. “Dumb, bitch.”
I lean toward him, but Maddoc pulls me backward. “Learned that from my mama, piece of shit. How’d she do on the lesson?”
In the next instant, I’m lifted in the air and carried through a door that leads to the hall where the entrance to the locker rooms are.
Maddoc tosses me onto a pile of dirty ass gym towels.
I hop up, shaking the shit off, then glare at the asshole in front of me. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck is right, what the fuck was that?” he roars.
“It’s called, standing up for myself.”
“You were about to put your hands on his junk.”
“Did you not see me knee him in the nuts?” I shriek. “It’s not like I was about to grip him and have a playdate for all the class to see. He was being a dick, so I was gonna hurt his. Still did, in fact. And why the fuck do you care?!”
“I don’t!”
I cross my arms. “Really?”
“You callin’ me a liar?” He steps closer and the hairs on my neck stand.
“If the jock strap fits.”
He slides closer, his eyes cutting to my lips before hitting mine again. “Why are you so much trouble?”
“I’m not,” I tell him, my eyes zeroed in on where his tongue sneaks out to lick the corner of his lips. “I’m silent ‘til pushed.”
“And why do I wanna push you?”
Boys of Brayshaw High Page 7