Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)

by Meagan Brandy

  “Come on.” He grips me under my arms, pulling me up and my mom’s body falls to the floor with a thud.

  Bass sets me on the bed and quickly runs into the bathroom, coming back with two wet towels. One he uses to wipe across my chin, the other he gently places around my neck.

  He pulls me to my feet and rushes us toward the door, but I yank away, falling against the wall.

  “What... what are you doing?” I shake my head.

  “We’re leaving.”

  “Like hell.”

  Bass gets in my face. “Get the fuck out of this room, Raven. Now,” he growls, but worry swims in his eyes.

  “I say what goes on here!” I shout, making a mockery of myself. A wetness coats my cheeks – blood or tears, I don’t fucking know. “Not you!”

  “You’re right. Still, we need to leave.”

  “I won’t leave him here.”

  “There is a man shot and a woman dead. We have to get you out before someone comes knocking.”

  “That is Captain bleeding out on the fucking floor! I leave, and he dies?!” I bark, ignoring the throbbing it creates at my temples. “Alone beside that piece of shit?! Fuck you!” I shove at him. “I’m going to the hospital with him!”

  Bass curses and before I know what he’s doing he has me spun around, my back to his front, my arms and stomach smashed against the wall. He covers my mouth and plugs my nose, suffocating me.

  “Stop fidgeting, it’ll hurt your wounds,” he says, tightening his hold.

  I’m weak, but I claw at his arms.

  His chest expands against my back. “I have to get you out of here, Raven. You are priority. Don’t worry,” he whispers softly as my body starts to sway. “They’re coming for him.”

  They – he didn’t call the ambulance.

  He called his brothers.

  Fuck!

  Everything goes black.

  My eyes open, my vision blurry at first, but it only takes a second for it to clear.

  Bass Bishop comes into view.

  The tautness of his features tells me he’s unsure of his next move.

  Good.

  “Captain,” I rasp.

  “In surgery.” He eyes me, and I don’t have to ask. “Royce is on his way to get you.”

  Not Maddoc.

  I close my eyes again, giving a small nod.

  This is all my fault. A little girl almost lost her dad today because of me. Everyone will have questions. They’ll ask me why she was there, what she said, and what followed. Questions that will lead to more questions, most of those being ones I have no answers for.

  She spoke in riddles that were lost on me, acted like she was doing me a favor by walking in there with a gun and attempting to take a life, then following up with trying to take mine.

  I could have stolen the gun from her hands when Bass distracted her, but she doesn’t like to fail, especially if it’s against me. She’d have tried again, and again, like the pathetic woman she was, she’d have caught me when my back was turned.

  Things were too far gone at that point – my move was the only one I could afford. I have a lot to process, but one thing was crystal clear – she thought he was Graven, a true Graven, and wanted him dead.

  Why?

  I look back to Bass. “Tell Royce you’ll bring me.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You’re not here to think, Bass.” I glare.

  His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue, only looks away with a nod. “You should wash your face, might cause a riot looking like that.”

  Shit.

  I drag myself to a sitting position, wincing as the pounding hits harder.

  Bass points to a bottle of Tylenol and cup of water sitting beside me, so I take it and drag myself into the bathroom.

  He somehow got me to another hotel, got Captain to a hospital, and, I have no doubt, got my mom’s body off the floor.

  I stare at myself in the mirror.

  There’s blood matted in my hair, my face is fucked and bruised, the corner of my eye swollen, a blood vessel seemed to have popped, but I can see fine and I feel nothing.

  I strip and step into the shower, letting the water wash away what it can. I gingerly massage my hair, staring at the rosy water as it spins into the drain. The hotel provided soap is hardly enough to get rid of the grime, but it works good enough. All signs of my mother are now running down the sewer where it belongs.

  When I step from the shower, I pull the shirt and sweats that magically appeared on the counter over me and look in the mirror again.

  You killed your own mother.

  Shouldn’t you cry, or hurt, or mourn?

  Shouldn’t you feel anything other than the sour taste of relief?

  I killed my mother.

  Bass walks in, patting the countertop, so I turn and lean against it.

  With a frown, he pours peroxide on a cotton ball and taps it against my face. When I don’t react, he presses a little harder, moving to the next, wider cut.

  “Does it sting?”

  “Not enough.”

  He freezes, dropping his hand as he glares at me. “You saved him.”

  “You saved him.”

  Bass shakes his head and moves back to working on me. “All I did was walk in, and too late. I should have been there to stop her from getting that close. You were with them, so I stepped into a room to take a call.” He shakes his head. “You were all gone when I stepped out.”

  I stare at him, my voice more of a whisper than I intended. “When did he ask you to start watching me?”

  “The night he came home without you.”

  Fuck.

  “He trusts Captain to keep you safe, but he needed to know someone had your back if Cap could only have your front.”

  There’s a hard knock on the room door and my eyes narrow.

  “Told him what you said.” He shrugs, tossing the cotton ball in the sink as he backs out. “Told me to fuck off.”

  ‘Course he did.

  The second the door clicks, it’s slammed against the wall and heavy footsteps bound my way.

  A mess of dark hair and wild dark eyes hit mine. His shoulders drop and he rushes for me, his hands planting gently on my face, getting a good look. I keep my muscles loose so he can move me as he needs.

  He tilts my head to the side and down, softly brushing against my hair to see the damage the gun made beneath it.

  “You keep getting this pretty little head beat on, and you might forget us altogether, RaeRae,” he teases, bringing my eyes back to his. “On second thought, I could get down with that, maybe win you over first the second time around.”

  My lips press together, a small laugh leaving me. I grip his wrist, bringing my forehead to his. “Yeah, ponyboy. I’m good.” I catch his eyes again. “I promise.”

  With a deep inhale he nods, and then steps back, glancing across my body. “She get you anywhere else?”

  “My ribs are a little tight, chest is heavy.” I look away. “Not sure what’s causing it, though.”

  He grabs my hand and tugs me to him, wrapping his arms around me loosely.

  “Imma need you to stop gettin’ your ass kicked, RaeRae. Let me take the hits for you.”

  “I needed the pain today,” I mumble against him.

  He jerks back, glaring at me, but he can only hold my eyes for a few seconds now that we’re back to the reality of the day.

  They found out I married their brother, and without them. I know that’s what hurts Royce the most.

  He was left out. He doesn’t know how to handle being in the dark.

  “We didn’t want to force you guys to watch.”

  “We wanted to be there. Silent strength, RaeRae, that’s what we could have given you, and him.”

  I swallow, but it burns. “Is he okay?”

  “Let’s go.” He ignores me. “Someone needs to be there when he gets out of surgery.”

  He starts walking when I ask, “Maddoc isn’t there yet?�
�

  Royce freezes. He turns his head, but not all the way – a slight glance over the shoulder. “Nah...” He starts walking again. “Not yet.”

  “I...” My brows snap together. Never. He would never not be there or here in a moment like this, no matter fucking what led to it. I dart forward. “Royce.”

  He pauses again, shaking his head. He looks to Bass who spins on his heels and steps out the door.

  I walk around, planting my feet right in front of Royce.

  “I can’t find him,” he whispers regretfully.

  “Call him.”

  “I tried.”

  “Try again,” I snap, panic flaring.

  He digs in his pocket, flopping Maddoc’s phone into my hand.

  My eyes reluctantly pull from it to him. “Royce...”

  “Had Mac track it when he didn’t answer. Found it with his GPS in the alley behind the donut store.” He doesn’t meet my eye. “He ripped it straight from the dash. We can talk about this later. Right now, Captain needs his family.”

  He waits for me to nod and together the two of us make our way to his SUV.

  The drive to the hospital is a silent one.

  When we get there, we pull around the back.

  As we step out, another door sounds, and I turn. Bass is ten steps behind me.

  He gives a subtle nod, so I nod back.

  Royce stops, glancing around and in the next second, what looks like a glass window, becomes a sliding door and we step inside what is apparently a private elevator. It starts to close but I throw my arm in front of it, not looking Royce’s way when his head slices toward me.

  Bass steps inside with us.

  The ride up, I’m sure is a quick one, but with each floor higher, my distress levels double. “There’s no way he knows Captain’s hurt. He’d be here if he did...” I look to Royce who again glances away. “Right? He’d be here?”

  Royce’s forehead contorts. “Any other day, I’d say yeah in a heartbeat, laugh at you for questioning it, but...”

  But he found out I married his brother today, and at the same time and in front of the entire fucking school.

  Big Man...

  My mouth opens but I close it just as quick. “He told me to do this, then left when I listened.”

  Royce glares at Bass a moment so he slips the headphones forever around his neck on, turning away.

  Royce shifts toward me.

  “Maybe he didn’t want you to listen. Usually you suck at it.” Royce glares.

  “The stakes were too high.”

  Royce steps closer to me. “And you’re too strong to take orders from any-fucking-body,” he growls, real anger in his dark eyes. “You need to realize this now before it’s too fucking late. Look around you, soak up the power they, that we all, are and have given you without even realizing. The fate of this town lies in a single decision of an eighteen-year-old girl?” His brows jump. “Must be a helluva girl, yeah?”

  I close my eyes but don’t get a second longer to think, the door behind us opens, a security guard blocking the entryway.

  He meets each of our eyes and takes a single step back. He lets us by, but his baton flings forward before Bass can step off.

  Bass drops his head back lazily, his hands sliding in his pockets.

  “Step back inside,” the man tells him.

  “Let him through.” Anger flares.

  The guy’s eyes find mine. “I have orders-—”

  “Orders that you’ll forget about as of right now.” I glance at Royce who tips his chin the slightest bit. I step forward, head high. “All your orders will come from me now. The only people allowed to step through that door and off on this floor is the three of us, Maddoc, and Victoria.”

  Royce leans over me, holding his phone out for the man to look at the screen. “This is Victoria. I’ll send you the photo.”

  The man’s frown is deep. “Mr. Brayshaw will be arriving—”

  “And you will send him away. He can enter when and if I say.”

  “You clear, Fernando?” Royce stands tall at my back.

  When I look to Bass he winks.

  “Yes, sir.” He turns to me, dropping his chin to his chest. “Ms. Brayshaw, I wish Captain quick healing.”

  “Thanks,” I rasp, moving my feet when Royce grips my hand and takes off down the hall.

  Right when we get to the end – an open room with hanging TVs, a small kitchen area, and stocked bar – a short, pudgy man walks from the double doors.

  “Doc?” Royce’s grip on my hand tightens to the point I’d worry he’d break a knuckle, but I don’t dare react. I doubt he even knows he’s doing it.

  “Almost out of surgery, they’re sewing him up now.”

  “He’s okay?” My free hand shoots out, gripping Royce’s forearm.

  “He will be. I’ve collected the bullet.” His eyes shift toward Royce. “Should you need it for any reason.”

  His meaning is clear – in case we need to figure out who the shooter was.

  Royce’s response confirms we already know, but the man doesn’t dare ask. Royce takes it, and nods, calling over one of the security guards.

  He hands him the bullet. “Melt it down, reshape it and give it back to me,” he orders.

  “Yes, sir.” The man asks no questions and walks away.

  The doctor starts to turn, but his eyes linger on me.

  “Hey, Doc,” Royce calls, noticing as well. “If you need anything, for Captain, you’ll need to speak to Raven.” Royce looks to me, apology and understanding. “His wife.”

  “Yes, sir.” The doctor doesn’t bat an eyelash and takes the announcement as his okay to approach me directly. He reaches for my hand.

  Hesitantly I slip it into his, frowning when cool metal meets my palm.

  “My sorrow is yours, Mrs. Graven.” My body locks at the name as does Royce’s beside me. “We will protect him as we can, get him well.”

  “When you look at him, I need you to see a Brayshaw. When you speak to me, speak to one.” I tug my hand free of Royce’s and close it over his on mine. “There are no Gravens here.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Go, rest.” He looks between us both, motioning to the couches behind us. “We will come get you the moment he’s in his room. Not much longer now. His wallet, brass knuckles, and phone have been bagged. The nurse will place them in his room as she prepares it.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  With that, he walks away, and I open my palm to find a ring sitting in it, an item he chose not to place with the rest of Captain’s belongings.

  It’s small, the band black, the front the shape of a crown with tiny pinkish-purple diamonds at the three tips.

  I look to Royce who frowns at the jewelry, a curious expression on his face.

  “What?”

  He licks his lips and looks away. “Nothing. It’s perfect for you.”

  When I stand there frozen, staring at it, Bass steps over to me. He tips his head to the side a little, so he can meet my eyes better.

  He grabs the ring from my palm, seizes my hand, and slips it on... my middle finger.

  “Fuck everyone, Raven. This is your crown. Wear it.”

  I nod, then move to the couch near Royce.

  Bass lingers a few feet away, his eyes roaming around every few seconds.

  I take a deep breath and sit back with my eyes closed.

  Cap will be okay.

  My mom is dead.

  Maddoc is gone.

  And me, I might just fucking crack.

  One thing is for sure, though. If I do, everyone will fucking feel it.

  Everyone.

  “There you go, baby girl,” Royce whispers. “Get angry. Get loud.”

  My eyes open and hit his.

  “Get revenge.”

  “Raven,” Bass calls, nodding toward the hall.

  I spot a wide-eyed Victoria down the long walkway. Her eyes find mine the second I stand.

  She slows so I meet her. “Mac picked me
up, or more demanded I get in or he’d tie me up and put me in the trunk.” She looks around. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

  “Me either.”

  “What happened?” she asks. “All he’d say is he was bringing me to you.”

  “Captain was shot, he’s almost out of surgery.”

  “Shot!” Her eyes widen, her forehead creasing. “He’s okay, though... yeah?”

  I look to Royce and her head snaps his way.

  “They said he will be,” he tells her.

  She nods, glancing back down the hall a second. “Rolland was pulling up right as I was shoved through the glass door.”

  My eyes fly to Royce again.

  “I trust you.” His dark gaze holds mine strong.

  I nod, glancing to Bass and he kicks off the wall.

  “Sit with Royce. I’ll be right back.”

  I get halfway down there when the shouting reaches me.

  “Get the hell out of my way! You’re lucky I don’t put a bullet between your eyes,” Rolland is yelling.

  “Step back on the elevator before I place you inside it.” Fernando is firm, calm.

  The corner of my mouth lifts.

  When I step around, I see he’s backed by three more security guards, all who stand taller when I’m spotted.

  Rolland’s eyes slice my way and his shoulders drop. He shakes his head. “Thank God! Raven, get Royce and Maddoc! These assholes—”

  “Are doing as they were told.”

  His head snaps back. “No, they aren’t. I gave them specific instructions.” His eyes cut to Bass and narrow before moving back to mine.

  “Instructions I overrode.”

  He tenses where he stands. “Excuse me?”

  “You aren’t welcome here, not yet.”

  That gets him angry. He shifts closer and is met with a wall of men, but I push past them, stepping in front of him.

  “Not welcome,” he drags out, his eyes moving over my shoulder. His words are calm but hold a heavy power. “I’d bury you for less.”

  “Don’t threaten my men.”

  His brows jump. “Your men?” When I say nothing he starts to break. It takes him a minute, but then his eyes lose their peril, sloping at the edges as concern seeps through. “Raven,” he pauses. “I need to be here for him.”