Why’s he fucking anxious?
The same second I think it’s gone.
His feet seem to widen despite the shackles holding them close, his shoulders expand, his posture straight. “I have.” His chin lifts.
“I’ve opened what used to be my groundmen’s homes to the youth, housing troubled teenagers or those who need to escape their living situations. All victims of some form of abuse. We have a boy’s and a girl’s home now, both up and running successfully for the last five years. We’ve also created a program that allows these teenagers to go to our schools and receive a higher level of education than offered were they come from. Our success rate for graduates through our program is very high and increases every year. I’ve learned a lot through the development. I’ve grown as a man and I’m proud of the work we’re doing.
“And it hasn’t just been me. My family has also begun the remedial process. In fact.” He nods his head slightly, like he’s convincing himself to continue on, and suddenly I’m not sure I want him to. “My sons are here today, one under unfortunate circumstance, the other two in support of us both.”
The people on the panel raise their eyes to the room.
“And the young woman seated between them,” the judge starts and an ache hits deep in my ribs.
I sit forward.
“She’s a resident at our all-girl’s home. We rescued her from her home just a few short months ago, where she suffered from abuse, both mentally and physically. She’s also a victim of sexual assault.”
I jerk around in my seat to look at Raven.
This can’t be fucking true. I read her file a solid ten fucking times. There is nothing in that thing that mentions sexual abuse.
“She has come with them today to show her silent support as she’s found comfort with my family and helped show them things I am unable to being locked in here. She’s brought a woman’s touch back into their lives, softened their hearts.”
The woman on the end slides her eyes back to Raven and curiosity has her scooting closer in her seat. “Is this true, do you live in this girl’s home?”
Shit.
What. The. Fuck.
My muscles work on their own and suddenly I’m standing.
The boys stand. Maddoc stands.
“Miss?” the woman tries again, but I ignore her, my eyes locked on the back of Rolland Brayshaw’s head.
He said Stockton. My home town.
“And she too.” My insides tighten when he speaks again, the familiarity in his tone now ringing in my ears and sending a sting down my spine. “Has learned from them. She understands now,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “The importance of finding people you trust.”
My airway is cut off, and fire burns up my tongue.
No fucking way...
He turns around to face me, the motherfucker boldly meeting my eyes and everything clicks. “She understands ... how family runs deeper than blood.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I think I say out loud, but I can’t be sure.
“Cap ... what is this?” Royce whispers.
Maddoc shifts like he’s ready to jump the little picket, but the officer at his side slides in his path, gripping his waistband where his gun hangs.
“Do you or do you not live in one of Mr. Brayshaw’s group homes?” The judge gets louder.
I narrow my eyes on the man who has yet to look away since the moment he spun around, not even to meet the eyes of his sons. He hasn’t even fucking blinked.
The man whose home I’m living in.
The man whose son I’m fucking, just like he used to fuck my mother at night.
The man who gave me my fucking knife.
I force my eyes to the judge. My voice is low, but it’s strong. “Yes.”
I shake off Captain when he tries to touch my arm, likely about to whisper something I don’t want to here. I shrug away. “I live in the Bray house.” Just not the all-girl’s house.
“Ms. Carver, do you wish to speak on behalf or against Mr. Brayshaw? Perhaps on your experience at the home, if you feel safe there. It could help us make a decision.”
The weight of Big Man’s stare is on me, but I can’t bring myself to look his way.
If I see demand in his eyes, I might do the opposite.
If I saw regret, I might walk away and never look back.
If I saw pain ... I might just fucking cry.
None of those are good and right now, this moment has to come from me.
I could lie, say that he’s a great man with a good heart when I don’t know this to be true.
I could lie, say I’ve never met the man. Tell her this is the first I’ve laid eyes on him.
I look back to him.
He has slight grey above his ears now, the rest a deep, dark brown. Almost black. His skin a little more weathered than I remember. Eyes a little more jaded.
I could tell the truth.
I keep my eyes on him. “I couldn’t care less about your decision. Lock him back up or let him roam free, makes no difference to me.”
Royce tries to touch the back of his hand to mine, in support or demand, I don’t care to know right now, so I yank away from him.
The judge clears his throat, but Rolland doesn’t turn back. He takes his time attempting to read me and when that fails, he finally looks to his sons at my sides, then the one to the left of him.
Suddenly it’s hard to breathe, and my chest starts rising and falling rapidly.
I have to get out of here.
I quickly and without warning, leap over the back of my chair. I know if I darted from my seat, Captain would block me. I shuffle down the row and one of them reaches out to grip for my elbow, but I jerk away, rushing for the door.
Maddoc’s call of my name and a slight commotion is heard behind me.
I don’t turn around.
“Raven!” I shout, shouldering the guard as he steps up and grabs a hold of me. Royce stays on her heels and my heart starts hammering in my chest.
Fuck.
“Chill, kid,” the guard hisses under his breath. “You’ll be out of here soon. Keep this up and you’ll go right back to that cell.
“I’m not your fucking kid.” I jerk away from him, grinding my damn teeth as I swing my glare to my dad.