Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)

Maddoc snarls angrily at first, and then his growl morphs into a deep, territorial rumble, possessiveness pouring into me off of him. My lungs finally open, greedily pulling in all his scent, the burn left behind from not having him finally soothing.

His tongue swallows mine as his hands take control, and he pushes against me.

Yes. Mine.

My eyes pop open.

Shit!

Not mine.

I bite his bottom lip until he yanks back and quickly slink under his arms, but he catches me by the back of my shirt, and I slam onto my ass.

He pulls me back up, spins and pins me to the wall with his grip on my ribs, my feet dangling in the air, so I can’t gain any leverage and trip to slip past. His eyes are wild and crazy, the green almost gone as a blackness takes over.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Collins and Mac tumble down the hall, shoving and punching at each other and then there’s another crowd behind him.

Maddoc squeezes me, only letting go once Royce appears out of nowhere and places a hand on his shoulder.

He drops me to my feet, and I stand there frozen.

Why did I do that?

“Keep your hands off my students, Brayshaw,” Principal Perkins calls from the hall.

Maddoc moves right toward him, spitting in his face as he stalks by without a word.

The principal glares from him to me, and just like every other time when he’s around, there’s something extra hidden in his leery light eyes as he studies our movements.

I wink like a bitch, even though I don’t feel cocky right now.

I feel like the wishy-washy bitch I’m acting like.

It takes a few minutes for the area to clear, and as soon as it does, Collins gets in my face. “What did he want?”

“Oh, you mean after you provoked him?”

Collins glares. “I said what did he want?”

“Answers.” My eyes widen as my brows raise mockingly. “Asshole. He wants answers.”

“And?” he grates.

I shove away from him. “And he didn’t get any.”

I spin around the corner, freezing when I spot Captain leaning against the wall.

He frowns at me, frowns at the ground, and then walks away.

My shoulders fall and I look to the ceiling.

Fuck.



“I think we need a night of fun, not recon and defense,” Collins tells me as he drops down in the patio chair across from me.

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“I think,” he says, leaning forward. “You’d have a good time if you let yourself.”

“Doubtful.”

He sighs as if he actually hoped I’d be all for it. “Well, get up. We’re going anyway.”

I cut my eyes his way. “Where, exactly?”

“Just a pizzeria my buddy owns. Beer and bad music.”

“Will the people you had jump me be there?”

“Maybe.” He grins.

I can’t help it and I scoff out a laugh.

I eye him, not at all understanding how his brain works. “Why do you do this?”

“What?” he asks, and I’d say he looks honestly confused.

“Pretend you want to be friends, like it’s an option still on the table. Act like you’re giving me a choice when we both know you’ll make me go under some pretense that if I don’t, you’ll pull your extortion cards. You know you plan to make me, so say it upfront. You don’t need to fake nice with me. I’d prefer you be real, even if real you is a privileged asshole.”

His eyes tighten around the edges a moment as he stares at me. “Believe it or not, I’m asking because I’m hoping you’ll agree instead of being forced, as you call it, but while we’re on the subject? I see no ball and chain around your neck, sweetness.”

I push to my feet, staring down at him. “Ball and chain or not, don’t forget I’m here for three other guys, not one of them being you.”

“Yet, you’re sleeping in my house every night anyway, something, dare I say, you should really learn to get used to if we’re talking bigger picture.” He grins and moves to stand beside me. “Not seeing how I’m the loser here. Get in the car, Rae, I’ll even allow you to wear your ratted little hoodie.”

He walks past and like the pathetic bitch I’ve become, I follow.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get to the pizza place, already loaded with sweater vest douchebags and their scarf wearing women.

I choose the booth in the farthest back corner, and after a few minutes of balancing the salt shaker, Collins comes over with the waitress.

When I don’t order, he orders for us and suddenly a pitcher of beer is delivered. For a second, I wonder if he’d slip some Molly in it or not, but when he steps over to one of the dozen metal tubs full of ice and bottle beer, offering one to me, I decide it’s safe and go for the fresh draft instead.

Surprisingly, Collins doesn’t act like a dick to me in front of his buddies, probably because he knows I’d embarrass him should he attempt to. He actually makes an effort to get me to have a good time, offers me to join each new game of darts and makes sure I always have a fresh bottle of beer until I tell him I’m done for the night – I’m not stupid, I’d never get drunk and leave myself for him to handle. I thought maybe that was his plan, but he actually snapped at another blond dude when he set a beer on my table and asked the waitress to bring me a water.

I’m not sure what he’s playing at by acting like a decent human, and I don’t care enough to need to know why.

The others here tonight, though, they do.

They watch him discreetly as he returns to me for what must be the seventh or eighth time. I grin at how they’re no longer able to hold in their evil eyes and instead toss them my way.

The queen bee of Graven Prep – who I plucked from the pack within the first few minutes of being here – is equivalent to Chloe from Brayshaw and just as pretty. She’s also just as predictable in her territorial ways.

She glares and slides up next to Collins as if she expects me to give a damn, so I wink back with a grin.

He’s all yours, princess.

As if she can read my patronizing thoughts, she flips me off, scooting even closer, but Collins glances at me and puts distance between them as if I care.

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