She leans over, grabs the gin and signals for the guy, who drops an empty glass in front of her.
Mac eyes us both as she fills it to the brim, the contents spilling onto her fingers as she slides it my way. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re on socialite duty, but something tells me you can handle your liquor, and that you might need that.” She doesn’t make me ask, which is good because I wouldn’t have, and offers her explanation anyway. “The chick in there, the one with the pink shorts, is Amber, and she’s wanted Captain since sixth grade. This is her first invite.”
I tap my fingertips along the rim of the glass then lift it, allowing the sweet yet piney liquid to warm my throat. I look to Chloe. “Why are you telling me this?”
She grins at the empty glass a moment, before looking to me.
“Because I know a scorned Brayshaw when I see one. Clearly you fucked up, I can see it, even though it’s not common knowledge to others how bad he wants to screw you… in both ways.” She places her elbows on the countertop, dropping her chin atop her interlocked fingers. “And because she’s a competitive gymnast, and you’re just… you.”
“You couldn’t help it, could you?”
She shrugs, hiding her grin in her drink as I hold mine back.
Mac chuckles, shaking his head, and offers to help me carry the drinks, but I ignore him and walk to the end of the bar, squaring my shoulders before I slip behind the black curtain.
The second I’m on the other side of the expensive material, strong, fluorescent eyes demand mine and hold, but I force my gaze over his shoulder, and I’m met with my own reflection across the room.
Mirrors all around.
There are no ‘walls’ to be seen—only yourself and everything surrounding you, and more than one of each.
Soft, tranquil music comes from every direction—how it’s not heard outside this room, I don’t know.
A black velvet curved couch makes up all edges, and it takes me a second to realize I’m raised higher than the seating area, higher than the others in the room.
A stage.
I take the three smalls steps to the floor level, a sparkly black tile, maybe even marble. There are a few end tables here and there, ice buckets sitting atop them.
Royce reaches out, taking the two drinks closest to him without a word, so I move one from my right over to my left, now holding a flute in each hand.
Finally, I look to Captain again, his stare still stuck on me.
It takes some masking, but I don’t acknowledge the two girls who have planted themselves at his sides, at least not until they turn to see what’s stolen his attention.
Both stick their hands out, demanding with actions instead of words like bratty children that their drinks be brought within reach.
Captain tips his head back the slightest bit, waiting, so I walk closer, surprising them all when I use the space between Captain’s open legs as my delivery location.
They wouldn’t notice, and I’m betting it was completely subconscious, but his shoulders lift off the cushion the teeniest, tiniest bit, bringing him a fraction of a hair closer.
To me.
My chest is in his reach and positioned right about his line of sight. Sure, my tits don’t spill from my bra and my top is tucked tight into my jeans, but I’ve got shape and it’s a shape he happens to like.
He inhales deeply, holding his breath as I lift my arms out at my sides, my chest pushing higher as I do, and slowly the girls grab their drinks.
Captain’s gaze quickly drops only to come right back as fast.
In my peripheral, the girls’ heads move from Captain to me, their pretty little minds spinning, I’m sure.
My focus falls to Captain’s mouth when his tongue sneaks out, licking across his full bottom lip, but he catches himself and hastily pulls it back in. The thick veins of his neck throb against his golden skin as his eyes angrily jerk left. To the girl Chloe mentioned, the one with the heavy lip gloss who wants what’s not free for the taking.
She leans into him, speaking in a low, seductive tone that makes me want to vomit. “This is my favorite champagne. I can’t believe you have it stocked.”
I scoff and her caked over lip coils, her beady eyes slicing to mine. She takes a second, making a public show of assessing me and deciding I’m less than she.
“What.” She pushes her lips out, her free hand curling over Captain’s shoulder as she tucks herself closer. “Jealous, group home girl?”
I pop a shoulder, letting my hands fall to my sides, the move has my fingertips skating across Captain’s jeans. “Not unless you’ve got a box of dye hidden in your vag.”
That gains the attention of Royce and his little toy.
Amber, as Chloe called her, tugs back. “Ew, what?”
Royce chuckles but quickly buries his face in the girl’s neck to hide it.
I place a palm on Captain’s knee, not missing the way his muscles clench as I do and lean forward, getting in the girl’s face. I flick her hair with my middle finger, and she jolts.
“He’s got a ban on blondes,” I whisper, and Captain twitches under my touch. “Your friend will have a better chance than you... but I’m pretty sure she’s calling dibs on the only other Brayshaw she’s allowed.” I slowly stand, keeping my brown eyes on hers, not much of a shade different. “Guess you’re out of luck unless he wants to take you on, too.” I look to Royce who is now paying close attention.
He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs out farther as if to invite her between them.
Awesome, so he’s gonna fix her little Bray-less problem?
“But uh, good luck with that,” I add, and all their eyes slide to mine. “I hear he only goes for three when it’s another dick involved.”
Royce’s frown is instant, and he moves the girl from his lap as he glares at me, but when I smack the bottom of the drinks of both girls that are in reach, sending the alcohol into their laps, he cracks a grin.
They shriek and jump up—away from my man.
I move toward the stage and up the small steps.
Amber’s arms are in the air as she looks at her soiled clothes in horror. “Who the hell do you think you are, trash?!”
“Watch it,” flies from Captain before he can stop it himself, but he quickly hides his frown in his drink.
My tongue slips between my teeth as I tip my head at her. “Guess I’m not just the ‘group home girl,’ huh?”
I put up two middle fingers, dragging each arm out and across the room, turn on my heels and walk the fuck out of the area, across the floor and to the lockers. I take the girl’s shit and slip from the damn building, quickly getting lost in the middle of the chaos outside.
I toss her bag and phone in one of the blocked off firepits and find a corner on the farthest end of this place. I climb up a few crates, planning to watch the weaklings fight until the main event begins in the next couple minutes.
I prepare to settle in, closing my eyes for a quick, deep breath.
He defended me without meaning to, and to a girl he was hoping could distract him tonight.
A small smirk finds my lips only to fall right off when a voice I could never forget but hate to hear calls out from below.
“There’s my girl.”
Oh.
Fuck.
Chapter 7
Captain
I tried.
Real fuckin’ hard, I tried to ignore the fact she stormed off, reminding myself over and over again I had all I needed for the night right beside me, but I only made it three leg bounces before Maddoc flew in here with a glare that meant one thing—she’s outside.
Royce is on his feet as quick as I am, waving the girls out into the main room as we follow behind.
He gets Mac’s attention, and Mac flies from his seat, letting us know he’s got eyes on the few we allowed in here tonight.
Raven steps up next.
“Andre was trying to watch where she went,” she says, talking about our
recently promoted main man out here. “He didn’t know if he could leave the door since we were inside. Lost her.”
Of course he did, she’s not under Brayshaw protection.
I haven’t put her there.
To everyone around, as proved by the chick now covered in champagne, she’s simply a girl from our girls Bray House.
“The fuck man, she gonna be like you?” Royce frowns at Raven. “Taking off and shit all the time? This is bad for the heart, we’ll be on meds by the time we’re done with you two.”
Raven grins, shrugging a shoulder.
“She might have walked out, but she won’t leave.”
Maddoc and Royce scoff while Raven smiles wider.
I know what they’re thinking, we said the same thing about Raven before, and she took off on us more times than we can count, but Victoria isn’t Raven.
I pissed the girl off, yeah, but she’s here.
Raven looks to me. “Cap’s right. She’s just mad ‘cause you guys had girls in there. She’ll never allow that.”
My lips form a flat line and I glare at her.
“What?” A laugh bubbles from her. “It’s true. No matter what you think, in her mind you’re already hers.” She smirks. “She’ll push when she feels she has to.”
“Girl already did,” Royce scoffs. “Talked some shit, spilled some drinks, and according to the text Mac sent me before she even stepped foot in that room, spiked their shit with something heavier.”
Raven laughs. “I would say make her sweat, let her think you’re in there with the girl still, but I’d guarantee you she’s not stressin’ on that. She knows what we all do.”
“And what’s that?” I frown.
She shrugs, leaning against Maddoc’s chest. “Those girls were never gonna get beyond your belt, Pacman. You’re past the point of a night’s entertainment.”
Royce and Maddoc chuckle while I groan, looking off, and the assholes laugh harder.
“Fuck it,” I cave. “Let’s get set for the fight, let her come to me.”
Royce goes for a quick refill of his drink while Raven and I wait near the door, Maddoc having slipped out first to speak to one of our guards.
A few minutes pass and he steps back inside, and heads begin to turn our way as an aisle clears, a straight path that allows us to move toward the rings with ease.
Clemmons, one of the new guys we’ve offered work out here, pulls back the chain and we step through, climbing into the new stool-like seats Maddoc had cemented into the ground. We’re lifted a solid three feet above the floor level, and perfectly ringside. Close enough to get some blood on you if it gets wild enough, but protected by a barricade and height.
I glance at Raven and the smile she can’t erase, at the way Maddoc watches her and how his hand tightens against her thigh.
His eyes meet mine, a small grin twitching at his lips, and I nod.
He did good, she loves it.
Andre walks toward us, tipping his chin as he grips the megaphone. He spins on his feet, looking across the crowd that has started to cram closer and begins announcing the fight.
Both guys step into the ring, listening to the rules—no weapons, no outside help.
Their tape is checked, and then Andre dips under the chain, and the crowd goes wild.
“That guy looks familiar,” Raven says, squinting.
Maddoc tells her, “They both went to Brayshaw a minute.”
She nods, then she and Royce start betting.
“Fifty on the shorter guy.” She sticks a hand out.
“What, nah,” Royce whines. “I want the short guy.”
Raven laughs. “It’s the flightiness, huh? He’s quick.”
“He’s ‘bout to creep in and knock that tall fucker out.”
“Join bets, and I’ll take the payout.”
Our heads jerk left to find Victoria trying to slip under the chain, but the guy guarding it blocks her.
She rolls her eyes at the dude, moving closer, and his hand comes down on her arm, seizing and twisting her back, but mine flies out, gripping his neck between my fingers in the same second. His shoulders hunch up tight, hands flying into the air just as quick.
“Sorry, man,” he rushes in a whisper. “I didn’t know she was with you. Andre said no one in, no one near, no one stares.”
My jaw clenches as I release him, and he turns to me, waiting for whatever’s to follow, but I only nod my head at him.
He did what he’s paid to do, keep others away and in line.
I frown at Victoria, but she grins at me, climbs into the seat at my side, and leans her upper body closer to mine.
“Can’t help it, can you,” she whispers, but she’s not mocking me in any way.
That’s the second time tonight I reacted in her favor, without intention.
It’s fucking frustrating.
“Don’t run around acting stupid,” I tell her. “You wanna take off, don’t expect to slide right back with ease.”
She looks from me to the ring. “Maddoc had this built a couple weeks ago, with six seats. Let’s not pretend one wasn’t added with me in mind.”
I clench my teeth, annoyance heating my chest.
On one hand, she’s got some fuckin’ nerve, on the other, her confidence over her place here thrills me when it shouldn’t.
She looks past me. “You guys want the bet or not?”
Raven’s gaze narrows. “You want to put money on the tall guy?”
“He’s going to win,” she says, but the way she flicks at her fingernails gives her away.
She’s anxious, nervous.
Something’s off.
“My pick always dominates,” Raven reminds her.
“Then what do you have to lose?” Victoria shrugs.
“Fifty bucks,” Raven snaps. “That’s like, what, thirty-seven meals from the dollar store.”
Maddoc groans, shaking his head.
He hates when she talks like she’s still broke and fighting to feed and clothe herself, but at the same time, he knows it’s a part of her and will likely never go away.
Victoria’s chuckle is tight. “Or a hundred plus packs of Ramen.”
Raven grins but rubs her lips together when the crowd starts screaming again.
“Royce,” she says, “you got a bill on short guy?”
“The fuck? You’re going with VicVee’s bet?” he asks her, wide-eyed.
Raven shrugs while Victoria tries to hide her smile, facing forward to avoid my eye.
I’m half tempted to ask her where the hell she went, but the fight begins, serving as a good distraction.
The tall guy is slower than his opponent, like Raven and Royce had guessed, but he’s instinctive, that or studied the other guy before taking this fight. He knows what the other dude is going for before he even moves.
The short one gets him with a right jab to the jaw, but the guy grins, shaking it off.
Victoria shakes her own head beside me, a heavy sigh following, and my frown slices her way.
It takes a minute, but she gives me her attention.
Her brown eyes roam over my face and she offers a saddened smile.
My chest muscles constrict, my scowl deepening and she drops her gaze to her lap before focusing back on the fight.
The dickhead continues to circle the ring until they’re right in front of us.
Raven leans forward, only for Maddoc to tug her back, while Royce glares at the scene.
“Wait a minute,” he says slowly, turning toward me, but his eyes wait to leave the ring until the last second. He glares, then looks back. “RaeRae, ain’t that the asshole who dropped you off the night you were jumped?”
Her head snaps to Royce, eyes flying to Victoria, and back to the guy in the ring.
“What the hell?” Raven drags out.
I squint to get a better look, and Royce is right.
Six or so months ago, Raven was jumped when leaving here, and Victoria and this fucking guy ran up on the scene
, scaring the pussies away. They picked her up and brought her home to us—that was the first time Victoria was close enough to see the mansion beyond the trees.
I remember locking her against the car, questioning her about what had happened, and the girl wouldn’t budge, kept glaring at me.
That was also the first night I went to bed with thoughts of this bratty little blonde.
All I remember about the dick in front of us is he was a nomad—not tied to the Brayshaws or the Gravens. He stood back, saying not a fucking word, and when Royce scared the piss out of him, he couldn’t get off our property fast enough.
Why the fuck was she with him that night anyway?
The tall dude comes in with a sudden uppercut, and screams fill the air.
He looks around, scanning our people before his eyes land on the girl at my side.
The muscles in my back tighten when he grins, his right hand coming up to hit the ugly ass, red-necked, matted feathered bird tattoo taking up his entire torso. The guy fuckin’ winks at her.
Raven leans forward, looking to Victoria. “I thought you said he left town?”
“Yeah, well,” she says, sitting back in her chair, a tense smile at her lips, and slight pull at her brows. She drops her head back, looking up at the sky. “Guess he’s back.”
“Who is he to you?”
She frowns, closing her eyes a moment only to bring them to mine in the next.
She shakes her head, but doesn’t get to answer, because suddenly the tall fucker is leaning over the chain that separates us from him.
He pushes his hair back, smiling at Victoria. “How’s that for a win, baby?”
My jaw locks as Royce chokes on his drink, hopping off his seat to view us better.
Did he just dare call her baby?
She doesn’t look his way, keeping her eyes locked on mine all the time, and says, “Captain, meet Mike.”
Mike sticks his sweaty-ass palm out. “Her boyfriend.”
* * *
I’m on my third drink when the others make it back into The Wolves Den, not that it took them long. I poured three straight doubles.
BE MY BRAYSHAW Page 8
