“She shouldn’t be in there,” Cap says, glaring at the front door.
“I have no fucking idea what’s going on. We need to talk to Dad, I’m over these fucking surprises.”
“Fuck man, Raven a Brayshaw?” Royce whistles. “Crazy ass shit, but fuck if it wouldn’t make sense.”
“Nothing makes sense.”
Me and Royce head up the stairs but Cap opens the back door and fishes around inside.
“Cap?”
“I’m coming.” He pauses a second, stuffs something in his pocket, then lifts her sweater in the air, and we head inside.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Royce says.
“He’s not.” Cap frowns at his phone. “Guess he texted me, says he’s at the Empire tonight, he’ll be back in the morning.”
“Great, now fucking what?” Royce asks.
Captain moves for the bar, pulling down a few shot glasses and a bottle.
“Long fucking day, man.”
I nod, moving for an empty stool.
Cap pours us shots and we take them one right after another.
“Raven,” Victoria calls and I blink, looking around. “You’ve been standing still for the last five minutes.”
I clear my throat and dig through my shit, pulling out some weed and papers and slap them in Victoria’s chest, then turn back to yank some clothes from the drawer then dart across the hall. When she doesn’t move with me, I look back.
She frowns and follows, shutting and locking the door behind her.
I turn up the water, hot as I can get it and strip down completely.
I step inside, hissing at the water, but forcing myself under it.
I lather the soap between my fingers and scrub across my body, but the filth won’t wash away. It grows heavier and heavier, and before I know it, I’m frantically breathing, my hands flying over every inch of me.
“Are you a virgin?” Donley’s words echo in my head, growing louder and louder until, until it wraps around my organs and squeezes.
Why did he need to know this? What does he want with me? If I’m Brayshaw, why would he dare touch me?
I gasp, trying to breathe, but my lungs refuse to allow it. My vision clouds, the water beating into my eyes.
Or maybe it’s tears?
Slamming my palm into the wall, I growl, but it comes out broken and sharp, and my knees give way, sending me crashing against the tile beneath me.
With my knees bent, I drop my forehead to the floor.
My body shakes with what must be my own tremors, and I again gasp for air.
Two arms wrap around me and suddenly my back is covered, arms locked around my knees.
Victoria lays across my back, clothes on and all, whispering in my ear like I imagine a mother would a child and eventually my lungs expand and I close my eyes.
The irony, though, is closing our eyes is what puts us at risk.
Demons love to play in the dark.
Victoria rolls a joint while I brush my hair, staring out the window.
Raven Brayshaw.
What the fuck.
Donley, the bastard he is, worded himself real careful, purposely slipping in that he’d spoken to Rolland. Rolland, who just today asked his sons not to say anything, told them he couldn’t be at their game, because he didn’t want Graven to know he’d been released.
The sick fucking part? I believe Donley. I think he really did speak to Rolland.
So, what’s that say about Daddy Bray?
I frown. The boys won’t understand.
The flick of the lighter catches my attention and I turn around to find Victoria watching me.
“It’s ready.”
“Light it.”
She scowls but does it, and I drop beside her.
“Remember all that Brayshaw knowledge you dropped on me?”
“Don’t say it, Raven.”
“It was true. They’re like Robin Hood without the thieving. Dark knights in Dior.”
She scoffs, and I laugh.
“I read the name on Royce’s cologne.”
We both laugh.
“Do you like it here?” she asks, passing me the joint.
I take a long hit, coughing as I blow it out. I clear my throat. “I like them,” I tell her. “But ...”
“But it’s scary, too?”
I glare at the vaulted ceiling. “I don’t understand it. They make me stronger, but at the same time that strength wears like weakness.”
For every burden lifted, a new weight falls.
“It’s not easy to trust people when you’ve learned not to,” Victoria mutters.
“Yeah, but how can someone bigger and bolder than me, feel like a slip-up?”
“Because, Rae, you said it since the beginning, you wanted to run away from the world, hide in your own corner when the time came.” We turn our heads on the mattress to look at each other. “I’m guessing that would be damn near impossible now, yeah?”
“I could never leave him. I could never leave any of them.”
“And what about him? Do you think he’d ever give you up?”
“No,” I answer honestly, maybe a little too sure.
She gives a grim smile. “Then accept his world for what it is.”
“And what is it, exactly?”
“It’s a man’s world, we’re just the dolls they prep along the way...” She trails off, so much conviction in her voice it makes me think she, too, is conflicted.
I look back to the ceiling, watching the smoke she blows float up until it disappears.
My mind flashes to earlier in the limo – me, laid out and positioned at their will, legs spread, vag out for all to see.
I was the doll tonight, all right.
But again, why? And what did the doctor mean when he said he now found himself in an impossible predicament? He knew what he was set to do before I was even dropped in that limo. He had to have or he wouldn’t have had his little tools on hand. So, what was it that suddenly caused him to question his move?
With a deep breath, I tell her, “Rolland Brayshaw is home.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I look her way.
She glowers. “Why’d you just tell me that? I told you, I don’t want confirmation on anything related to them. It’s better ... safer not to know.”
I shrug. “You’d have found out soon enough.”
She hesitates a minute, and then asks, “Have you met him?”
I scoff, looking away. “Yeah, I met him.” Thirteen years ago...
“That’s crazy.”