He looks past me before meeting my eyes. He nods his chin, so I shift to look at Raven.
My brows hit at the center when I find her zoning out, eyes forward and focused on nothing.
“What—”
I go to call her out but stop short when Perkins flicks the mic on again.
His eyes instantly hit mine, and I glare.
“All right! Thank you, girls, that was lovely,” Perkins starts, way too fucking giddy for me.
My brothers and I lean forward wearing matching frowns.
“Now. We have an announcement to make. It’s not usual,” he continues and my pulse kicks. “And it took some digging into the rulebooks, but I’m more than happy to say it’s all been worked out.”
“Maddoc...” Captain trails off.
Perkins’ stare slices to mine, triumph growing in his eyes.
“Please,” he pauses, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Help me give a warm welcome to the newest member ... of Brayshaw High’s Varsity basketball team.”
There’s a beat of silence in the room, but a deep ringing in my ears tells me to stand.
My brothers rise with me.
The door tucked away in the farthest corner from us is thrown open with a loud thud and in walks Collins Graven – wearing a fucking Wolves jersey.
My body starts to shake as anger fills every inch of me, but my feet have turned to lead. I’m rooted in my fucking spot.
Royce and Captain must be too, because they’ve yet to move.
He dares to walk in here?
The whispers start, growing louder and louder until the entire fucking student body is gasping and talking shit behind us.
Collins stands tall, slowly stalking forward, his eyes scanning every face he can find in the stands from left to right.
Then they stop, right on fucking Raven at my side.
She slowly pushes to her feet, and my eyes snap her way. She doesn’t look at me but keeps her blank stare on his.
Mine move back to him. The corner of his lip rises as he studies her and I take a step forward, but all of a sudden, Coach is right there, pushing me back, blocking my body discreetly with his. He drives his shoulder between me and Raven and turns his head to my ear.
“Do not fucking move,” he growls through his teeth. “He wants this. You move, he starts over you next game.”
I have no idea what’s said after that, all I can focus on is the blood pumping through me at an increasingly dangerous level.
Raven takes a step left, a step away from me, and I push my chest against Coach’s.
“Raven.” I glare.
She licks her lips, taking a half a step forward.
Her hands rub against her jeans and unease flares in my chest.
“Raven...”
My head snaps straight when her name flies from Graven’s mouth.
I see it when she resolves herself to whatever the fuck was going through her mind.
Her chin lifts, shoulders square.
In one swift motion, she whips her sweater over her head, a black jersey with teal trimming – a Wolves jersey, a fucking Brayshaw High jersey – with the large number one on it covers her frame. A jersey identical to the one Graven is wearing.
And I see red, blood fucking red, and it’s about to be his blood everyone else sees. I’ll paint the fucking floor with it.
He reaches out and she steps closer to him.
He’s dead.
My brothers dart forward first, but our teammates move in. Mac and Leo are hardly able to hold back Captain, but nobody can contain Royce.
And that’s my fucking girl beside that little bitch.
Fuck starting. Fuck everything.
I shove Coach to the ground, half leaping over his body as I rush him, but I’m yanked back by a group of my teammates.
It takes a second but I’m able to throw them off one by one and dart forward, but I skid to a fucking halt when my eyes lift.
Royce stands braced to fight, trembling in a rage he’s about to unleash on the preppy prick in khakis.
Only a five foot six, dark-haired piece of fucking trouble stands before him.
Against him.
Against us.
Fury flares and before I can think better of it, I’m yanking her by the wrist until she’s right in front of me. Any normal girl would have shrieked, frightened eyes flying to the guy jerking her around. Not Raven.
She has control of her stare, purposely taking an extra, careless moment to meet mine.
Hard. Unwavering.
I heave her even closer.
There’s gasping behind me, and I know how this must seem.
Raven’s face and arms are bruised and beat and now they see me manhandling her, but I couldn’t give two fucks what they’re thinking right now.
“It’s nothing personal, Big Man.” There’s fire dripping from her words as if she’s baiting the fucking enemy. Determination screams behind her eyes, but what she’s hoping for is unclear, even to me. “Just business.”
“Let her go, Maddoc,” comes from my coach who is now at my side.
Raven’s lips smash together and as I start to loosen my grip, she begins tugging against my hold, drawing away from me.
I quickly let go, darting forward and using both hands, I grip the jersey she’s wearing by the collar. I pull, shredding it from top to bottom, forcing the fucking thing from her skin. She’s twisted around and falls against the floor with a thump, nothing but a sports bra on her upper half.
“Maddoc!” Royce yells, bounding forward. “The fuck, man?!”
My shoulders fall, my eyes frozen on her exposed skin, and I swear time stops fucking ticking.
Royce’s shoes squeak against the flooring as he skids to a stop beside me. “Holy shit,” he rasps.
“Raven...” Captain drawls out quietly, stuck where he stands, but I sense it when his eyes harden and slice to me.
Large bruises, one the perfect imprint of a boot, covers half her stomach, smaller ones trailing down her abdomen and up her chest.
“What the hell happened to her?” is whispered to someone behind me.
Baby—
My body jerks toward her subconsciously, but Captain and Royce are gripping me by my arms and dragging me backward in the same second. They toss me back, shoving me forward when we reach the door.
We’re in the truck and smashing down the road in the next minute.
“The fuck just happened?” Royce shouts, panic and anger threaded in his tone.
“I don’t know,” Cap seethes, picking up more speed.
“Her body.” I look to them. “Her fucking body!” It looks ten times fucking worse than it did the night it happened. “You see what someone did to her?!” I yell, punching the dash.
“Yeah, man,” Royce growls. “We saw.”
“Everyone fucking saw, Maddoc,” Captain barks and my muscles grow tight. “And now they probably think you beat her ass, you dumbass! Nobody knows she was jumped!”
“Fuck them and what they think! She was wearing his fucking number!” I turn to Cap. “She is mine, Captain! And we just fucking left her back there ... with that little bitch!”
“Is she though?” Royce sits forward, spitting venom with every word. “Maddoc, she knew he was coming. That was fucking planned. She just served us on our own damn court.”
“There has to be more going on here,” Captain adds dryly, completely unsure of his own words.
“The fuck are we missing then, Cap?”
“I’m telling you, she fucking played us!” Royce shouts back. “We trusted her, man!”
“Stop,” Captain snaps. “Don’t cut her off yet, Royce. We need to find out what the fuck is going on.”
I look back at Royce and as soon as my eyes meet his, he shifts his glare out the window.
“We never should have trusted someone outside of us, man,” he spits, the muscle in his jaw ticking against his skin.
Trust has always come harder for him, but he
better be fucking wrong here.
Captain’s phone starts ringing, and I grab it, frowning. “Blocked caller.”
Cap pulls over and answers, putting the phone on speaker.
“Dad,” he calls out.
“Are you with your brothers?” our dad asks.
“We’re here,” Royce adds, sitting forward in his seat.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand.
Fuck his question.
He obviously fucking knows we aren’t in class – he never interrupts us at school unless something went down and he got wind. “How is he at Brayshaw? Why is he at Brayshaw?”
He stuns us when he says, “I gave the okay on his transfer request.”
“Without talking to us first?” I bite out. “You let us get completely fucking blindsided in there! How do you expect us to keep control and order if we’re not fucking aware? You made us look like fools!”
“Maddoc,” Cap hisses.
“No!” I shout, looking between them, then back at the dark screen. “Fuck this. Man, fuck you for this, Dad. Why the hell would you agree to letting him in?”
“Why the fuck would he want in?” Royce adds.
Our dad speaks again, “It was either him at Brayshaw ... or her at Graven.”
Our eyes snap up meeting each other’s.
“Yes,” he answers our silence. “I’m aware of what’s happening with the girl, but you figured as much, I’m sure.”
“She’s not just some girl.” Cap frowns. “She’s ...” He trails off, not knowing the right words to describe what she’s become. What we thought she had become.
“She’s important to you?” His voice calmer than normal, almost troubled.
My brows pull in.
“Has she grown close to one of you specifically?” he questions warily.
“All of us,” I snap at him before they can answer.
“Or so we thought.” Royce glares at me, mouthing what the fuck.
Our dad’s quiet a few seconds.
“Listen to me,” he starts cautiously, and instinctively we all lean closer to the cell phone. “Be smart, think before you act, but do not hold back if you need to handle business. You three are Brayshaw, if people need to be reminded, show them what that means. Don’t let them forget who’s in charge, Graven around or not. They’re digging, and they may have discovered some things they weren’t supposed to yet. Keep him there, right under your nose where you can watch him.”
“You expect us to let that little bitch run in our halls?” Royce questions. “Run on our fucking court?”
“Yes,” our dad’s answer is instant, but he pauses a moment before adding, “Make no mistake, Collins Graven has changed the game. I’m afraid it’s not about you anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Royce asks, his eyes hitting mine.
Captain’s features grow dark and he slowly looks between the two of us. “Raven.”
Why would he go after her other than to get to us?
“Boys,” our dad stresses. “Do not lose her to them.”
“She’s not exactly easy to control,” Captain barks.
“And she just played us, could have been this entire time. We can’t trust her,” Royce spits. “She’s a liability at this point.”
There’s a deep sigh through the phone and then, “Do what you must, sons. Hold tight. Everything is in the works.”
The line goes dead.
“The fuck does that mean?” Royce hits the seat and drops back against his own.
“I don’t know.” Captain puts the SUV in drive and we’re back on the road in seconds. “Guess we’ll find out.”
I turn to look out the window.
If she thinks she can fuck us over, she’s got another thing coming. They both do.
She wants to fuck with my head? It’s worked.
She wants to prove a point? She’s done it.
She thinks I’ll back down? She’s fucking wrong.
My jaw clenches, a heated poison burning in my veins at the thought of her with him.
Don’t lose her to them, he said.
I’ll lose her to no one.
Raven Carver is mine whether she wants to be now or not. Period.
She wants to pretend she doesn’t see me the same, I’ll force her fucking hand, in time. Problem is, I’m far from patient.
Go on, play your games, baby. I’ve got more moves than you can handle.
“Don’t look so glum, Rae.”
“Fuck you, Collins.”
“Begging again? So soon?” He stuffs his phone in his pocket. “It’s only been two days since you fucked up their world on their own turf, sweetness.”
“You’re a fucking fool.”
“But I’m your fool, right?” He laughs and drops down across from me. “Great job, by the way, not sure I told you that yet. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t so sure you’d follow through.”
“I said I would.”
“People say a lot of things, but you know that.” He grins and I want to slap it off his face. “You see how quick they gave up on you? Bet you didn’t expect that. You probably thought they’d tear you right back, right away, yet here you sit, wearing the same shit you did two days ago and still ... no Brayshaw to the rescue. Not even one out of three.”
I clench my teeth as discreetly as possible.
I don’t know what I expected, but I won’t show this chump my regret or the pathetic ache his words cause. Not that he’d read it right, he’s too blinded by his need to win a war he’s nowhere near equipped for. I’m almost curious if he wants it or if it’s simply because he craves notoriety.
Or maybe it’s acceptance?
Makes me wonder what he saw and heard as a kid.
I break our stare off and glance around the room.
This is a big ass house both empty and cold, more of a showroom of sorts. No color or real sign of living other than the ring around the coaster on the coffee table. Stone colored statues and ugly ass art fills the place.
Maids likely come in each day and out each night, cleaning up after the parties he throws almost on the daily – his need to have people close – and leaving him food to reheat in the fridge.
Maddoc had said, other than Collins, it was only his mother and grandfather, the last Gravens standing outside their men around town, but there’s no sign of them anywhere.
“Your dad really dead?”
His glass tumbler freezes at his lips – yeah, he’s that guy, does the whole ritzy shit, bourbon on the rocks like a typical rich boy trying to play like his pops. Sipping on it like a bitch.
He can’t shoot a shot like mine do.
Another twinge hits in my chest at the thought, but I shift my body to hide it.
Collins sets his glass beside him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, eyeing me.
He’s far from a bad looking guy, I’ve admitted this before. He’s found attractive to even the pickiest of females, I’m sure, with the typical preppy boy look – too perfect hair and textbook teeth. His face is clean and sharp, never a sign of yesterday’s shave or shadow even. No small cuts or scars to be found – bet he uses wrinkle cream already, too. Of course, he’s also fit like a basketball player, trim frame and decent height, sculpted to ego feeding perfection.
“I assume you know the story of how Rolland and his boys became Brayshaw, how their families were brought in before they were born?”
I’m well aware none of the boys are blood Brayshaw, and that Rolland, Maddoc’s biological dad, was brought into the family when he was younger. I know damn well that after Rolland’s best friends were killed, he adopted their sons to raise as his own, giving each his earned Brayshaw name.
Three boys, not one blood related, but brothers by choice.
I know who the fuck they are.
“Yeah, you must,” he continues when I say nothing. “But what is it you think you know about my family?” He eyes me. “About my name?”<
br />
A laugh bubbles out of me instantly, and I roll my eyes. “Please, pretty boy. Tell me you’re not dumb enough to think I’d answer that?” I lean forward to meet his glare. “I may be sitting on your couch, but don’t fool yourself into believing it’s where I want to be.”
“You might wanna work on changing that, it’s where you should be.”
“Hard pass.”
He laughs lightly, his chin lowering. “Did you know it was a Graven lawyer who got Rolland Brayshaw convicted?”
I give him nothing, but even still, he nods.
“Yeah, you did. But did you know that lawyer was my father?”
I force an impassive expression when every muscle inside me locks. “Nope.”
Holy shit. Not just any Graven put their dad away, but Collins’ dad himself?
“Case didn’t even go to trial.” He smirks at my frown – so much for a blank face. “Daddy Brayshaw denied, denied, denied up until the very last second. Then, right before he was set for court, he changed his tune, pled guilty and took the deal.”
“Maybe he grew a conscience.”
“Or maybe he had a completely different reason to admit to a crime he swore he didn’t commit.” He arches a brow.
I force myself not to swallow but color me intrigued. “And what might that be?”
He simpers like he’s privy to something I’m not, picks up his glass and tosses it back in one gulp. He stands. “Now you’re the fool if you think I’ll tell you, but maybe, in time, Rae. That depends on you. Get up and let’s go.”
“Where?” I snap.
“Shopping.” He lets his eyes run over my form. “Can’t have my woman looking like she stepped out of a low budget music video.”
“Why not? I’ve gotta walk next to a guy who looks forever ready for a round of golf.”
He laughs lightly, and I frown. “Class doesn’t mix with trash, Rae.”
“Yet you were ready to pay me for my time, Collins. Weird, right?”
“Get up and get in the fucking car, this is non-negotiable.”
“I’m not dressing like some prep school princess.”
“You’ll dress how I say,” he snaps with a glare. “Don’t forget, you agreed to do this my way, now get up.”
I take my time pushing to my feet and move to stand directly in front of him.
Trouble at Brayshaw High Page 3