Trouble at Brayshaw High

by Meagan Brandy

  “I wanna feel you.”

  “You do feel me, I’m so fucking hard.” I lick behind her ear and she whimpers. “I’m aching, baby.”

  “I want you inside me...” She trails off as she starts to shake.

  I push on her clit with my thumb and stick two fingers back inside her so I can feel her pussy convulse.

  She squeezes my fingers, riding my hand completely unrestrained.

  I bury my nose in her hair, groaning. “Your cum is mine, Raven.”

  “Oh fuck,” she gasps, and another moan leaves her, her orgasm setting off a second wave.

  All her muscles tense a moment before her body goes limp against me.

  Her hand flops down, hitting the door with a smack, and a husky laugh leaves her.

  She jerks from the heightened sensitivity when I pull my hand from her pants.

  A whistle sounds in the distance and her eyes fly open.

  She jerks upright, glancing out the window, and then her eyes slice back to mine.

  Not taking mine off her, I fix her bra, my lip twitching when she shivers as the back of my hand brushes her now sensitive nipple and I smack her thigh. “Out, or we’ll miss it.”

  Her features tighten, and she hesitates a minute, but then she shifts and hops out, fixing up her jeans, and tying her hair back quickly.

  I grab the bag I brought from the backseat and throw it over my shoulder, locking up behind me.

  She eyes me curiously, but I grab hold of her hand and move for the tracks.

  The train has started to slow and the first few cars pass, so at an angle, we walk closer until it’s moving at a speed we can catch.

  She yanks her hand free and we start running right alongside it.

  “Now,” I shout, and she cuts a glare at me before bursting forward, latching on right as she hops from the ground and I make a jump for the back side of it.

  We both pull ourselves in at the same time, slipping against the inside walls.

  She laughs loudly, turning to look at me.

  Dark strands of hair lay across her eyes, but she doesn’t bother fixing it. This time, before she can come this way, I dart across to her, grip her hips and spin in a circle until her back hits the corner with a soft thud.

  She chuckles. “Well, isn’t this familiar.” Her hands move to my chest, and she looks up at me, but the longer I stare, her laughter disappears, discomfort taking its place.

  Her touch slowly retreats, and she subconsciously pushes against the metal at her back as much as the space allows.

  “Raven,” I call her name when her eyes fall from mine and they snap right back.

  Her features tighten, and she rubs her lips together, but the vulnerability she hates seeps through for a split second before her shoulders square and she forces it back. She lifts her chin, so I give her the space she’s demanding.

  “If you’re lying to me, if you knew, I will ruin everything you’re trying to do,” she threatens. “I will fuck you harder than you’ve ever fucked anyone, Maddoc, I swear on my life.”

  Call me a fucking masochist, because goddamn if her words don’t make my blood burn hotter for her. So fucking fierce and determined, strong and unafraid to go head to head, even when her ammo could never match ours if push came to shove.

  It’s exactly fucking why I was drawn to her when I never wanted to be.

  I don’t doubt her words for a second, and if anyone else on the fucking planet stood here and said this to me, I’d have thrown them from the moving train already and never looked back.

  I push my hard-on against her stomach, and she takes in a slow breath. “I have no intention of fucking you over, Raven Carver,” I whisper, my thumb coming up to pull her bottom lip free of her top one. “But I do plan to fuck you ... over and over.” I kiss the corner of her mouth and her warm exhale hits my cheek. “And over.”

  I move back to look at her.

  Her eyes bounce between mine a moment, and then she gives a curt nod. “Maybe I’m dumb, and maybe I’ll regret this, but I believe you.”

  She drops her eyes down between us, and I step back slightly, my muscles lock when they come back up to mine and she says, “I have to tell you something.”

  It only took a half hour to be able to jump from the train, and Maddoc had a car already waiting to take us back to the SUV.

  Once we get back to the hotel we dropped the boys off at earlier, we find Royce, no damn surprise, booked a flashy suite he could get with a fire pit on the balcony, and ordered room service to be delivered in perfect time for our return.

  They joke lightly about basketball, both cringing when they finally get the chance to tell Maddoc about the game he missed.

  As soon as everyone is done eating, the trays are pushed to the side and Royce passes around liquor from the mini bar.

  “The video’s real,” I blurt out, starting the conversation off and they look my way, waiting for more. “I saw it, it’s not the greatest, but it’s clear enough and there’s ... sound.” I smash my lips to the side, but I end up laughing lightly anyway when Cap and Royce grin at me. “Anyway... I guess it was some outdoor style, night time camera.”

  “Even a phone is capable of that nowadays,” Maddoc says.

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t know, but either way, what do we do about it?”

  “Nothing.” Maddoc sits up straighter, a frown splitting his forehead. “The video’s trash, useless.”

  “How?”

  “Why do you think he was trying to shop it around?” Maddoc asks in a flat tone. “He wanted the news of it to get back to you. He played on the only soft spot he saw. You for us, and us for you.”

  “To get our attention?”

  “To get your attention,” Captain confirms.

  “He bet against us when he put word out of that video, and you fell right into his hand, proving him right,” Maddoc says.

  “Again. How?”

  “By showing him you had to rely on yourself to fix it, making it seem like you couldn’t rely on us.”

  “It wasn’t about that,” I shake my head.

  “We know.” Maddoc sits back. “He gets it now, but there never should have been a second where he doubted us. If you’d have done what you should have and come to us with the issue first, he wouldn’t have,” he snaps.

  “Look, this is all new for me, okay?” I snap right back. “You seem to love to forget that I didn’t have this” – I play connect four between us – “where I came from. It was me, and that’s it. I’m not gonna all of a fucking sudden be ‘go team’ because that’s what makes sense to you.”

  “It’s not all of a sudden,” he bites out.

  A laugh bubbles out of me even though I try to fight it, and some tension leaves his shoulders. I’d swear there was a soft side of him hidden in there somewhere, covered in anger and buried with bitterness.

  “What I’m trying to say is I don’t know how to ...” Shit.

  Captain leans forward, his little whiskey bottle hanging in his hands. “How to be a part of a team?” he asks and I’m glad we’re on a dark balcony with nothing but the fire between us for light.

  My neck heats, in doubt or awkwardness, I don’t want to know, but it’s annoying.

  “You don’t know how to be a part of a team?” he tries again.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Raven ... you stood with us when you had no reason to, fought with us, defended us.”

  “But I didn’t do any of it on purpose,” I whisper, a heavy weight on my chest making it hard to bring in a full breath. “I just did what I felt like doing.”

  “Stop trying to convince yourself that’s true. Quit telling yourself that deep-down you didn’t feel connected to us right away, because you did. You passed on the chance at a new life when Perkins hit you with that offer, something even we know you want, to stay with us. Then you went there, willing to give it all up to protect us, meaning you’d walk away with nothing.” Captain glances at his brothers before continuing.


  “You fire off on reflex, which is a really good thing most of the time, it means you’re quick to the wit and can turn a bad situation into a favorable one when needed. Knowing that about you makes us more comfortable when you’re not in our sights. But Raven, do not ever think you need to protect us from anything.”

  I hear what he’s saying, and it makes sense, but that’s not the point. I may not have thought it through completely, but I knew what was at risk and it far outweighed where I landed in the end.

  I lean forward, hoping the urgency I felt is delivered. “How could I walk away that night, knowing what could have maybe happened if I didn’t try to stop it?”

  His brows pinch and then smooth out in the same second. He slowly stands, making his way over to me and my stomach starts to flip.

  He drops down in front of me, and in the corner of my eye, I catch Big Man looking away.

  “Raven ...” He trails off, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you telling me, you did what you did, made a fucking deal with Collins, for my daughter? For my baby girl who you’ve never even met and owe nothing to?” He swallows, the corners of his eyes squeezing, like the damn strings to the heart I’m only just discovering.

  “I ...” I drop my eyes to my lap. This shit’s too much for me. “She’s not the only reason.”

  Royce’s light chuckle catches my attention.

  I look to him and he offers a small smile.

  “This is why you fit, RaeRae.” My damn shoulders shouldn’t ease at the nickname. “You’re honest when most would lie, you’re strong when others are weak. You’re loyal without having to try, even if it was a fucked-up way to show it.” He winks.

  I grin and look back to Captain as he stands. He looks down at me, nods his head and disappears into the suite.

  Royce stands and pats my shoulders, following after his brother, and I close my eyes a minute, taking in a few deep breaths.

  “Come here,” I demand of Maddoc.

  When I hear no movement, I open my eyes and look at him.

  He lifts his chin, so I lift a brow. With a small smirk, he pushes to his feet, and slowly steps to me. Once he’s towering over my seated form, I stare up at him.

  Green eyes, shining in the dark, and swimming with too many thoughts to count.

  I grip the bottom of his hoodie and pull, so he bends, placing his hands on the back of the little sofa style patio seat I’m sitting on.

  My chest stirs, a tightness I’m not familiar with taking over, and a heavy exhale leaves me.

  His slow blink has me swallowing.

  “Sit.”

  “I was sitting.”

  “I didn’t ask what you were doing. I said sit.” I slide my hands under his top and press along his damn tapered waist. “Sit.”

  He fights me for a second, frowning down at me, but then does as I asked right as the boys step back out with new, larger drinks.

  I glance at Maddoc, but he only stares, waiting for me to fill his brothers in on what I told him on the train.

  I reach in the waist of my jeans and pull my knife out. I look to Royce and hold it up. His brows pull in and he nods his chin, so I toss it to him.

  His eyes are slow to pull from me and move to the metal in his hands.

  “Turn it over, Royce.”

  He flips it over and when he does, he freezes a moment, drawing it closer to his face. He sees it, etched into the side in a classic cursive script: Family runs deeper than blood.

  What I now know are the Brayshaw’s words to live and breathe by.

  Royce slowly pushes right back to his feet.

  “What...” He trails off.

  Captain snatches it from Royce’s open palm, and his head snaps up, eyes meeting mine.

  “This is your knife, the knife you’ve been carrying around here for months?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the fuck does this mean?” Royce asks, cutting quick glances between the three of us.

  “Your dad, yesterday wasn’t the first time I’ve seen him,” I tell them. “He goaded me in there, as if I could forget his face. He knew if he threw out the words I’ve read at least a handful of times a day since the day I first heard them, that I’d remember, but I didn’t need that. I remember his face and his voice.”

  “Raven...” Captain visibly pales, his head shaking slowly.

  “He was one of my mom’s clients when I was younger. Came by once a week, every week, for at least a year. The day he gave me my knife was the last day I ever saw him.” I nod at Royce, hold my hands up, and he tosses it back.

  “When was that?” Royce asks.

  “Eleven years ago.” I lick my lips, glancing between the three.

  The timeline still makes no sense as far as how long she said he’s been paying her. “She must have pulled some shit right after that last night he was over. I won’t apologize for what she did, I refuse to do that for her, but ... I am sorry you guys lost his physical presence.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Royce tells me, and I shrug.

  With a frown, Cap stretches back, pulling his brass knuckles from his pocket. He leans forward and hands them to me.

  Made of real silver, they’re heavy. Expensive. There’s a tiny anchor, matching the one on his knuckles printed into the side and looping through each finger slot, a thin engraving: Family runs deeper than blood.

  My stomach heats and I grip the item tighter.

  Royce moves closer, dropping to his knees in front of me. He pulls his hoodie over his head and flips his arm over, showing me the underside of his full sleeve.

  Hidden inside the intricate design the words are blended, not to be easily seen or read, hidden there, just for him.

  “I have a crest at home I used to wear around my neck, but I almost lost it once. Now, no matter what, my family is with me,” Royce tells me.

  Maddoc sits forward and pulls his wallet out, sliding a key from the inner folds and handing it over.

  I flip it and there it is again, imprinted perfectly along the edge.

  I run my fingers across it, taking a deep breath. “What’s it open?”

  “Don’t know yet, maybe nothing, just a token of sorts,” he says, pausing for a moment. “We didn’t have to accept each other once we understood we came from different parents, but we are a family in every sense of the word. We chose each other.” I look up, meeting Maddoc’s eyes.

  “And now we choose you,” he vows. “He chose you.”

  “He only saw me at night when I was nothing but the dope head, prostitute’s kid he had to distract with ice cream and a fucking movie. He didn’t even know me, Maddoc, or the shit I did in the daylight, even at seven years old.”

  “He’s intuitive.”

  When I start to shake my head, Maddoc grips it between his hands, a frown taking over his face once more. “Raven, that was not his knife,” he throws out tersely. “I have never seen that knife before. Being a Brayshaw has rules, and if an item is given to you by a Bray, it was created for you, and not to be given away. Those words are sacred. If he gave you something with them written on it, it’s because he knew, eventually, you’d be exactly where you are right now. With us.”

  “He bought me from my mom for who knows what reason, because she sent him to prison. Maybe even before if that’s why he was paying her for two years before he was even arrested.”

  Maddoc shakes his head. “I don’t know. His going to jail never made sense, my going to jail made no fucking sense if you think about it from our perspective. We’re Brayshaws, that doesn’t happen to us, so I knew he had some sort of plan behind it. And the one he had shocked the shit out of us. We thought maybe because he was arrested in another town that it made a difference, and that’s why he wasn’t released right away – them not knowing who he was – but learned later it wouldn’t.

  “Raven, we’re not the only family like ours, there’s several of us spanning across the state line like a barrier, blocking people from coming into our worlds. We all
serve a purpose, live a certain way to have the lives we do,” Maddoc says, then glances to his brothers before looking back to me. “But we will fucking find out where you fit into this. Your area is outside of our maps. I don’t even know how he found you or your mom. None of the families connected to us have business that way.”

  I rub at my eyes and let out a deep breath.

  The last two days have been a huge fucking information overload. My head is starting to spin.

  I meet each of their stares, each a complete contrast of the last – dark brown, light blue, and jade green – but each hold the same intensity and promise.

  One I chose to believe, even if it makes me a sucker in the end.

  Family runs deeper than blood, and I think I might have found mine.

  We all stand, and Royce and Captain both move in for a hug before disappearing inside to crash.

  Maddoc grips my hand and pulls me behind him, not bothering to close the balcony doors on our way to our designated room for the night. Our door, though, he closes and locks.

  Grabbing a hold of my other hand, he pries my knife from my fist, pulling it closer to his face. A frown finds him as he stares, slowly running his fingers across the words that mean more to him than I probably even understand. He nods to himself, then sets it on the table beside us.

  Maddoc’s eyes shift to mine. He tugs his hoodie over his head, drops his jeans, and then moves to relieve me of mine, not once looking away from me.

  He steps against me, wrapping his arm around my lower back and pulling me in.

  I halfway hate how I like it when he does this, touches me, stares at me with dark eyes full of more than I might ever be ready for.

  He tips my head back with a touch to my chin and runs his lips across mine, nipping lightly, before he pulls back. “Don’t think too hard on all this, baby. Just let it play out, and while it does, know something,” he whispers, walking me backward to the mattress. I allow myself to fall and he drops down, hovering over me. “I don’t care what happens tonight, tomorrow, or next fucking year. I don’t care what anyone wants from, or of me. I decide what I want from you.”

  He wedges his knee between mine, bringing himself even closer as he runs his lips across my jawline, stopping to whisper in my ear, “And I’m bettin’ on everything.”