Blood begins to dribble over her now quivering lips and hurried steps sound behind me.
In one quick, smooth motion, I spin my upper body, pull out and flick open my knife.
Every single person steps back.
My eyes snap to Collins who raises his hands slowly, cutting a curious eye from me to the blonde.
A crease forms over his forehead as he slides his hands in his pockets and moves farther away, and with their leader’s okay, the others relax around him, moving even farther than he did.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he simply shrugs and nods his chin, telling me to get on with it.
This only makes my frown intensify and my adrenaline pump harder.
Wary and aware of all movement around me, I turn to the girl while slowly closing my knife, but keeping it in my palm.
“Not so nice seeing me again, is it?” I bend, getting into her face, twisting my knee more and more, watching tears fill her pathetic eyes as she sinks deeper into the container. “This is the life you craved? Hm?”
When she opens her mouth to speak, I cut her off.
“You gave him up” — my body starts shaking — “her up, for this shit? Free fucking drinks and Friday nights out?”
Her eyes pop wide, and she pales, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks.
I lift my other foot off the ground, putting all my weight on her and she weeps.
Her back should be good and cut-up from the ridges of the bottle caps and sharp ice by now, but even still, it’s not enough.
She needs to hurt more, this is nothing compared to the bleeding mess she left inside Captain’s chest.
I move my knife to my left hand, my right darting out to grip her jaw, my palm covering her mouth. I can feel the curve of her teeth as I squeeze her cheeks against them, so I pinch harder driving them deeper, deep enough to bleed, and her eyes slam shut, more muffled cries leaving her.
He missed his baby girl’s first breath. Her first step and first word.
I swallow the rage before I do something I can’t walk away from, like snap her fucking neck. I get in her face and she cowers, looking every bit as ashamed as she should.
“You’re a dumb bitch and the world needs fewer people like you.”
I kick off her and spin around to face the room, but much to my surprise, their eyes fall to the floor. Only Collins stares head-on.
I move past him, but he falls in line beside me and we walk out without a word.
He’s quiet the drive back, but it’s short-lived and the second we hit his driveway, he locks eyes with mine, shifting his body to face me.
“You know.”
My brows hit in the center.
He knows?
“Know what?” I play dumb.
Suspicion grows in his stare and he shakes his head. “Wow.” He drops back in his seat.
“What?”
He looks away. “Loyal to them – without needing them to know it – and you’re still just an outsider with nothing but a slightly clearer view.”
“Cut the bull, Collins, and lay it out.”
He looks back to me. “You showed up at my house, going all fucking in, to protect these guys you hardly even fucking know, who clearly aren’t giving you anymore detail than necessary.”
“I don’t need to know all their secrets to know I don’t want them to fail.”
“When they didn’t offer information, did you ask what they stole from me?”
My ribs constrict, but I glare. “It was none of my business.”
“But what happens in this town is?” He studies me in a way that has me curious about the delivery of his question. Almost like he’s insinuating it is but wants me to think it’s not. Cryptic as fuck. “You are so dead set on Brayshaw running this place when you don’t even know the full story behind our families. We’re only a few pebbles in a much bigger pond, and neither one of our names are as clean as we claim.”
What the fuck does that mean?
I force a careless shrug. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“Ask me what they took, and I’ll tell you,” he dares, but he’s not being playful or arrogant. His eyes are clear as day, his features fixed in a serious manner.
My jaw sets tight.
Of course I want to know what it was, but I don’t want it to come from his mouth. He could make up something completely fucking random and I’d have no way of knowing if it were true or not.
“It doesn’t matter what they took. I’ll be out of here soon, so it makes no damn difference to me.” I climb from the vehicle and slam the door, hurrying forward and stepping through the one held open for him like royalty by his doting little maid.
I keep my eyes on her as I step in next to her, but hers fall to the floor. I head for the room he’s stuck me in, and lock myself inside.
I plug in my headphones and lie flat on the floor with my flashlight beside me, staring up at the ceiling. I flip my knife open and closed, over and over again.
As expected, sleep never comes.
Cap walks in, confusion drawing his features tight.
Both Royce and I push to our feet.
“What happened?”
He hesitates a minute, running his hand over the back of his head. “Fuck it.” He shrugs. “I have Mallory on a 24/7 watch,” he admits about Zoey’s mom. “Have since the day I found out Zoey existed, before I even knew for sure she was mine, no plans on calling him off anytime soon either.”
“Duh, man.” Royce laughs.
I look to Cap who glares, but Royce leaps over the coffee table to stand right in front of Captain.
“Come on, Cap, she’s the enemy. We all want her watched, and we knew you did.”
“How?” his eyes snap between ours.
“You told us when you were piss drunk, said you couldn’t hide anything from us.” Royce smirks. “Even your conscience is a good boy.”
Captain chuckles, shoving him away.
“For real, though, brother.” Royce goes in for a bro hug and handshake. “We’ve known this whole time. Would have expected nothing less.”
Captain looks to me like he’s ashamed and I shake my head.
“Man, this is different, and you know it. There’re some things that don’t need to be said, Cap, and there’s nothing wrong with that. And the fact that you just came in here and told us, means now you have a reason to talk about it. We knew you would come straight to us if there was something needing said. Quit feeling fucking guilty about it.”
He nods, his eyes dropping to the floor, and when they pop up, they’re focused. Determined and a little amused.
His lips pinch to the side. “Mallory got roughed up.”
My forehead furrows.
Cap’s eyes flick to mine. “Seems she ran into a fist last night.”
Royce and my eyes jump to each other’s, quickly moving back to Captain.
The organ in my chest starts hammering. “Cap.”
“Raven rushed her, got in her face, smacked her around a bit. She went fucking easy from what I heard, but—”
“But why the fuck would she do that?” Royce rushes out.
“Exactly.” Cap nods.
I spin around, biting on the skin between my thumb and pointer finger.
What’s your game, baby?
With him, but hurting for us.
Giving us nothing but fighting for us.
For us.
I jerk my head, my chin low. They’re fucking right. “Why would she do that?”
My brothers and I look between each other, a small nod passing between us.
That’s the fucking question.
“Let’s go to practice, boys.” Royce grins, already pulling out his phone to make plans for tonight when we had agreed not to celebrate. “We need a venue.” “Yo, Buck!” He laughs into his phone as he heads outside. “It’s Royce.”
Cap’s eyes follow him out before he turns back to me. “Think he’s good?”
“You ever seen him
care for anyone, Cap?” I ask him but keep my eyes on Royce who’s laughing on the phone in the driveway.
“Nobody but her. He liked having someone to talk to outside us. He felt comfortable being himself with her.”
I nod. “Pretty fucking sure she was the center of his world.”
“And then she was ripped away,” he finishes, then looks back to me. “But we’ll get her back.”
Damn straight we will.
“Come on, fuckers!” Royce shouts from the front. “Quicker we’re done the quicker night will come!”
We laugh and meet him in the car, but the mood shifts on the short drive to the park court knowing we’ll share it with a Graven today.
Like we figured he would be, Collins is already jogging the court in warm-up gear.
“We should run his ass over,” Royce grumbles. “Bet his knees have never hit gravel before. Pansy ass motherfucker.”
Cap turns off the engine and shifts toward me.
“What?” I snap.
“We don’t know what’s really going on between them two,” Cap worries. “He’s gonna fuck with your head, man.”
“Let him. Make him think he’s winning.” I turn my glare out the window. “I told you guys before, I’ll lose her to no one, now let’s go.”
Cap sighs. “We need to make sure someone mentions the party in front of him.”
“Already handled, brothaman.” Royce claps a hand on his shoulder. “Mac and Leo are on it.”
Walking toward the field, Collins pauses at the far end, eyeing us with his hands on his hips as he tries to catch his breath – Graven Prep clearly doesn’t work on cardio.
“‘Sup, bitch?” Royce grins at him, dropping his bag on the bench.
Collins rolls his shoulders and starts jogging again.
We take our time getting our shit out and switching into our street shoes.
Right when I stand back up, the rest of the team and Coach arrive.
Coach Brail eyes us. “Brayshaw, early as always.” His stare cuts to Collins, who makes his way toward us.
“Always, Coach.” I roll the ball in my hand, eyes on Graven.
“All right, we’re gonna get rained out, so a quick lap and then we’ll go straight into a scrimmage.”
The team waits for my lead, then follows us around the court, stopping in the center as Coach asked.
He separates us into more even teams, each a mix of starters and second string. When he adds Graven to a team, everyone takes a step back, every fucking eye landing on me.
Coach glares. “I said play,” he snaps.
Still, they wait.
I walk toward Graven, slow and fucking steady, and he squares his shoulders, a slight tip to his lips, but I’m a fuckin’ Wolf, I can smell his fear. Under that pasty ass skin and pretty-boy hair, he’s trembling like a bitch.
He thinks he’s showing strength, that his standing here puts us on edge and makes us and those around us see him as brave.
His fake ass, cocky attitude says a lot more than that to us, though.
He’s making a mistake and he’s too fucking dumb to realize it.
No Graven would set foot here like this, not unless they knew they had a safety halo hanging around their head, one we’d later use to noose their asses if and when needed.
Collins is well aware our dad asked us to play fucking nice.
The real fucking question is how and what else does this dick know that we don’t?
I chuck the ball into his stomach, and he jerks, catching it like I knew he would.
“Go on, Graven.” I tilt my head back lazily, walking backward to my position. “Start us off.”
The corner of his eyes tightens as he starts dribbling, and drops back to his place.
The rest of his temporary team still waits at the side, so I nod my chin, giving my team the go-ahead to play with him here.
“Let’s go, assholes,” Cap smacks our boy Mac on the shoulder, who was placed on the opposite side of us.
We talked to Coach last night and told him not to use our playbook or talk any sort of strategizing with him here. We’ll run basic ass shit and nothing more.
So that’s exactly what we do, run basic.
An hour and a half in, and he’s only touched the ball twice, and one of those was for a free throw after he was fouled.
His glare flies to Coach. “You’re willing to chance a loss just to appease these assholes by not exercising the entire team? I need practice before next game—”
Royce cuts him off with an obnoxious, nasty ass laugh and everyone stands to attention.
He grips the front of his basketball shorts and stalks toward Collins.
Collins’ eyes tighten at the edges as he tracks Royce’s every step.
“Next game?” Royce laughs again, but there’s no sign of humor on his face. “Bitch, you really think you or your thousand dollar fucking Fendis will ever touch down on our court alongside us?”
Collins’ head draws back the slightest bit.
“You’ll never play as a Wolf,” Royce tells him. “I don’t give a shit what anyone says. Not Coach, not my dear old dad, not my brothers. Not when it comes to this. You, you punk ass bitch, played your last game of ball the second you decided to come into our house.” Royce takes a step backward. “You’re fucking lucky we have to play nice, Graven, or we’d have snipped you at the ankles the second your feet hit Brayshaw steps.”
Collins stares at Royce, the muscle in his jaw ticking, but then his shoulders square and his eyes slide to meet mine.
My brows drop low as I gauge him.
I know where this fucker’s about to go.
Push me, bitch. I fucking dare you...
“Work me out, Brayshaw.” The corner of his lip lifts and I take a half a step forward. “Work me out today, and I’ll give her the night off.”
I’m in his face, nose to fucking nose, forehead to forehead in the next second.
“Boys—” Coach yells, but when nothing else comes from him, I know Cap or Royce cut him off with a single look.
“Don’t be a cagey motherfucker, Graven. You wanna stand here, brave enough to run your mouth when you know I could lay you out in a solid fucking second, then be brave, bitch.” I drop my voice to a whisper so only he can hear, driving him backward with my forehead on his. “You and I both know I have to leave you standing, for now.”
He glares, but the sweat forming at his hairline tells me he’s ready to piss his Moncler cotton fucking track pants. “Dunk on me, Brayshaw...” He licks his lips and edges back the smallest bit, but I lean with him, not allowing him the space he’s searching for.
My hand starts twitching at my sides. I know he’s about to throw what’s mine in my face like she belongs to him.
“Dunk on me, and I’ll let her sleep in a separate bed tonight, instead of mine—”
My fist flies, connecting with his jaw and he drops to the gravel.
I go to drop down on top of him, but Captain and Royce pull me back, shoving me toward the opposite side of the court.
“Fuck,” Coach spits, tossing his clipboard. “All right, this half, stay on this side.” He looks to me with a glare. “You boys stay on that fucking side. Fifty suicides. Go!”
I jerk from Captain’s hold and he and Royce throw their arms over my shoulders laughing quietly to themselves.
I can’t help it and a small grin takes over.
Fuck that fool.
“Yo, Maddoc!” I turn back, tipping my chin at Mac. “Car’s confirmed. Party’s at the Tower at eight, yeah?” he shouts.
Collins’ eyes hit Mac in my peripheral and I fight a smirk.
“Yup, invite anyone you want, doors are open tonight.” I turn back around, and Royce elbows me.
All fucking set.
I shuffle through paper after paper, coming up with nothing. For a library full of files, the Gravens seem to keep nothing but worthless shit here. Pool boy and gardening receipts galore – useless.
Wi
th a sigh, I close the door back and head down the gaudy ass spiral staircase. The second I hit the marble landing, there’s a knock at the door.
I stand there a moment, just staring at it, and then they knock again.
Fucking Collins, who is at practice causing problems, I’m sure, won’t allow me and his maid to be here alone, so he sends her on her way every time he leaves. Probably texts her on his way home every time, heaven fucking forbid he has to hang his own coat.
The doorbell rings next.
Fuck.
A low growl leaves me, and I yank the door open with a frown, prepared to tell his buddies to kick rocks, but my brows meet my hairline when none other than Maria Vega, my so-called social worker, is at the door.
“Raven.”
“Ms. V.”
Interesting fucking timing.
She frowns. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“No.” I lean against the frame and cross my arms. “Not my house.”
“And you care why?”
I blink at her. I don’t care – don’t want to let her in either.
She sighs. “Fine. Listen, I’m here because I was unaware of your new arrangements.”
I run my tongue across my teeth. “What led you this way, Ms. V?”
She blanches a second. “It’s my job to know where you are.”
“Yet you weren’t aware of my new arrangements.” I lift a brow. “Yeah?”
Her eyes tighten. “I ... look, we have to remove you and place you back in the Bray house, with Ms. Maybell.”
We?
“That’s not gonna work for me.”
She hesitates before responding. “I’m afraid it’s not your choice.”
I eye her, already having had suspicions about her character, none of which I’ve confirmed, but still. I stand taller, grabbing onto the door with one hand and the frame with the other.
“How ‘bout this? You call your people and have them come in and remove me?”
She observes me a moment, her voice a little less sugary this round. “Do you really want them to take you in and make you go through a hearing and replacement home, all because you wouldn’t cooperate with me? I’m making this easy and offering to take you back to your original location.”
I scoff, a small smirk coming out as I shake my head at her. “You’re as full of shit as you are sure, Ms. Vega,” I quip, and she fidgets under my unrelenting stare, a crease forming on her forehead. “You do what you need to, and I’ll be here until I’m not.” I go to step back but pause and instead step outside, right in her face. She doesn’t cower away, but her pupils dilate just the slightest. “Since it’s just me and you standing here, let me tell you this now. If you had or have anything to do with that little girl not being in her daddy’s arms every night, you’ll regret it with every bone in your body.”
Trouble at Brayshaw High Page 7