Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)

I frown when she pulls out her knife.

She flips it open, turning it to inspect the sharpened blade, and I meet Cap’s eyes quickly, looking back when she snaps it closed. She squeezes it, her eyes stuck to the old metal before she slides it up her left sleeve, discreetly holding it there.

“Why do you feel the need to take that?”

“I take it everywhere,” she says flatly.

“Fine. Then why ready and waiting like it is instead of in your pocket or waistband like normal?”

Her eyes hit mine. “You think I’m unpredictable? She’s ten times me.”

“No. You are ten times anything she will ever fucking be.”

Her face contorts, a softness lining her eyes, but she washes it away just as quick as it slips. “She’s uncontrolled in a different way than I am.”

“You’re not convincing me to let you go in their alone.”

“You need to understand you’re not in control here.” She pushes open her door and steps out and I go to follow, but Royce’s hand shoots out, gripping me by the back of the collar.

With a growl, I yank free, spinning toward him with a glare.

“Give her a minute. Maybe this is about what Dad said, abuse or some shit and her mind is all fucked up.”

“Do you really think I give a fuck about that?” I shoot back.

“Maddoc,” he growls, spinning fully in his seat, anger flaring in his eyes. “She just fucking came back, man, and only because we went and got her. Your girl, your fucking call, brother, but damn. I don’t wanna lose her by pushing her. We all know how she gets when we do.”

“I’m with Royce,” Captain agrees.

I smack the back of the headrest and drop against the seat.

“Ten minutes,” I relent, slamming my eyes shut. “And not a second fucking longer.”

This is fucked.



Taking a deep breath, I pull open the broken screen door and step inside, letting it slam with a loud whack.

God, I don’t miss the smell of stale cigarettes and filthy musk.

A muffled laugh has my eyes jerking right to the sofa that only months ago acted as my bedroom.

I frown when I spot her lying there, legs still laying open, nothing but a stretched out tank top on.

Dirty bitch.

I know what the candles being lit means, but flick the switch to be shitty and draw attention to it.

“Clientele is low, I see.”

“Clientele is just fine, daughter, but there are more important things to pay for than electricity.” Her words are sluggish, and I step closer to look her over more. She lies there limp, eyes glossy and hardly open. “Besides, the candles set the mood, hm?”

I scoff.

“I saw someone yesterday,” I say slowly. “Only he had a different name than the one I knew him by.”

She tenses, slowly pushing up on her elbows. Her eyes shift between mine a moment and she laughs lightly, but there’s a blankness to it that puts me on edge.

“Oh my god. He was right.” A slow grin takes over her face. “You really are just a girl under all that rot.”

My brows pull in and she laughs more.

I keep my calm bravado going, but really my insides are turning.

“I’ve gotta hand it to the man, it was the perfect ploy on his end.” She sticks a cigarette in her mouth and lights it, sucking in a long drag. “He thought it would look great for his case to have you around, forming a little bond with his boys. With three to pick from, guess his odds were pretty good. He knew what he was doing when he made his offer.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“Don’t play dumb, daughter.”

I move closer to her. “You used me to help a man who used to pay to fuck you, while I sat down the hall by the fucking way, who needed help getting out of prison?”

She laughs, but her eyes harden, and she blows smoke straight in my face.

Oh my god. “He paid you.”

She scoffs. “He pays me. Think I’d give up my welfare so easy? He’s been paying me for years, Raven. Little here and there. Paid off this trailer for me, too, ‘course he refused to sign it over to me. Smart on his part, I probably would have sold it and ditched you along the way if he did. But I knew the longer he sat, the more I could squeeze from him. Monthly checks like clockwork for the past thirteen years. Finally got the deal I wanted from him. If the state wasn’t gonna pay me no more, then he sure was.”

Thirteen years? The judge had said he served eleven.

This doesn’t make any sense.

She laughs, the sound weak and dead. “I see you’re still missing pieces, daughter, but don’t bother asking.” She grins and shakes her head. “I’m on strict orders from the man himself. If I wanna keep getting my money, I keep my mouth closed when you come knocking.” She tilts her head. “The bonus is seeing you desperate. Pathetic, like I knew you were.”

“And what would have happened if I simply left?”

“I knew you wouldn’t once you had a taste of life outside these walls. He knew it too. He’s a very smart man. A life for a life.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Ravina?” I push closer.

She shakes her head and tries to laugh, but it only comes out halfway and a lost look fills her eyes. “They’ll never let you go. Not now that they have you.”

When my forehead pinches, she sits up farther, the bruises lining her arms more visible now with the light from the candle flickering beside her.

She assesses me, and a deep frown mars her face. “You wanna stay. Raven ... don’t be fucking stupid.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t tell me you think those boys haven’t known since day one?” My mother smirks, far too proud, hoping to witness the potential fall of her own daughter. “Why do you think they moved you in with them? Security. To make sure, when good ole daddy went before the judge he had a happy story to tell of how the very daughter of the woman who had accused him of rape has forgiven and forgotten, and she’s even fallen for his own sons. A tale of how it brought you together, forcing one big twisted family.”

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