Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)

by Meagan Brandy

  “Never,” Cap growls before rushing from the room.

  I turn back to Perkins. “Give Rolland the password to this account, and don’t touch it again.”

  “This is my contact for here at the school.”

  “Was your contact. Find a new one.”

  Royce and I step out, looking around for Captain, but he’s already out of sight.

  The two of us head to class, finding Victoria already sitting there waiting.

  “Everything okay?” she whispers.

  Not even a little bit.

  Maddoc showed up the day after Donley sent the email, but he’s yet to show his face since. It’s been two weeks now, three since everything went down and now Spring Break is here. That’s ten more days I know I won’t lay eyes on him.

  It’s bullshit.

  My eyes snap to Victoria when she kicks me with her boot.

  She frowns. “Stop staring at the TV like you wanna murder it and fast forward the commercials already.”

  I toss the remote to the floor and drop back on the carpet, frowning at the ceiling.

  With a heavy sigh, Victoria drops beside me.

  “Wanna get high?” she asks.

  “Not really.”

  “Drink?”

  “Nope.”

  She sits up, looking down at me. “Wanna go sit by the pool and do absolutely nothing like we are now, but with a better view?”

  I start to say no when she adds, “There’s a train track behind the property. You can see it from the upper deck. You’re a rich girl now, you can get us up there.”

  I turn my head to look at her, a small smile on my lips.

  She pushes to her feet, so I let her pull me up, and the two of us do just that.

  We don’t even have to say a word to anyone, and the rope leading to the top deck is held open for us.

  We find a seat closest to the large glass window that allows us to look over the ledge, and not two minutes after we’re seated, fresh ice waters and a tray full of grapes, weird little slices of meat, and cheese is set before us.

  The man says nothing, sets them down and walks away.

  “It’s no wonder rich people stay rich.” Victoria pops a piece of funky colored cheese in her mouth, only to drop it into her palm with a small gag, making me laugh. “They get tons of shit for free.”

  I play it safe and pick up what looks like salami only lighter. “They probably give it to you, then charge your room for it later.”

  She chuckles, wiping her hands.

  A train starts by right then and we shift to look at it.

  “Where’d the boys go again?”

  To visit Zoey, but I can’t say that to her, so I give a look that says don’t ask so I don’t have to lie.

  She changes the subject easy enough and we spend the rest of the day swapping stories about the funny shit we’ve seen and anything else we can think of that’s worth a solid laugh.

  It’s a less than shitty day.

  This is the worst day I’ve had since I forced myself to walk back into Brayshaw high, all twisted and fucked and wrong in every way.

  Raven at Cap’s side, the Graven bitch at mine. Not that I bother talking to her, looking at her, or acknowledging her presence at all. She couldn’t care less, though. All she wanted in return for her few days spent was for word to get back to Graven Prep of how she sat comfortably at the Brayshaw table. Doubt she was any kind of comfortable, but it didn’t matter, it was all for show.

  Shit, my entire life, my brothers, and my girls, is nothing but a fucking show right now. One I was done playing a role in, so I stopped fucking going. Again.

  Now, here I am, wanting to enjoy my niece like my brothers are, but finding every excuse I can to walk away.

  First it was to check the electrical fence, next to walk the property line and make sure there were no signs of forced entry or prep for it. After that, I went inside and checked all the windows, reset the alarm system and looked in the attic.

  I couldn’t fucking think of anything else, so now my face is in my phone, but only for a second before little feet land in front of mine, big blue eyes looking up at me.

  “Cheese!” she says, smiling, staring at my phone.

  A laugh leaves me, and I take a small step back and take her picture like she wanted.

  “I wanna see!” She reaches for it, so I bend down and turn the screen toward her.

  She laughs at herself, pulls the phone from my hand, and then drops onto my bent knee.

  I quickly adjust my balance so we don’t fall back, and her feet start to swing in front of me. She pushes a bunch of buttons, but when nothing happens, she hands it back and stands.

  “Hu-mon!” she says, waving over her shoulder as she makes her way back to Captain and Royce, both who stare at me from only feet away.

  I take a step forward, only to freeze the second Cap bends down to pick her up and hugs her close.

  My mind places Raven at his side, his smile on her, and Zoey’s hand connected to them both.

  I turn, get in my SUV and go.

  This is why I drove myself today.

  After a quick stop at the house, I pull up in front of the large gate of the warehouses and wait for it to be pushed open. I slowly back in, stopping when the head of my vehicle is right at the line. This way, neither Cap or Royce’s can fit behind me. Not that they’ll be coming.

  Mac steps up, nodding his head with a frown so I push my door open, pulling the bottles from the passenger seat and waving them at him.

  With a small chuckle, he shakes his head moving aside so I can step out.

  I hit the button on my key fob and the back opens.

  We both drop down, and I waste no time popping it open and take a few shots straight from the bottle.

  I pass it to Mac as he says, “Guessing you being here without your brothers means they don’t know you’re here?”

  “Nope.” I look out over the crowd.

  They’re prepping for the fights, placing bets, and getting fucked up while doing it.

  I look to the building at the edge of the property. “Get someone in there, gut the fucking thing and deck it out. Make it a place we can kick back, but out of sight. Put a room in there, too.”

  Mac nods, pulling his phone out. “On it.”

  I take another drink, shaking my head out when this one burns on its way down. “Who you got making the cards tonight?”

  “Bass has it all handled. We send him names, he sends us the setup. Signs off on everything.”

  I glare at the people partying, having fucking fun.

  Bishop should be focused on one thing and one thing only, keeping his eyes glued to Raven.

  I take another shot, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Fight of the night, change it. I want in.”

  My head snaps to Mac when he doesn’t say anything.

  He eyes me a second but nods and walks off.

  Every few minutes, more and more people file through the gates and soon the place is packed, security locked down and the music is cranked up. The alcohol has kicked in and my blood is running warm.

  The crowd begins to gather in the back as the first few fights start, so I kick off the bumper and pull my shirt over my head. My hand subconsciously rubs across my tattoo, but the second I realize it I rip it away.

  Fuck.

  I run my hand down my face. I’m fucked up, and it’s having the opposite effect I want.

  I need a blank fucking mind, I want my head and the organ in my chest to numb like my body. How is it I feel no physical pain, but on the inside it’s like someone’s taking a razor to me, slowly, methodically slicing across every fucking inch, leaving not a centimeter untouched, unmarked, unfucking punished.

  That’s what this is, the sting in my gut.

  My bitter and cruel reward.

  Give away all you got, die with a beating heart.

  Keep it, live with a heavy one.

  I gave her away, and now I’m a walking fucking
zombie.

  Mac comes back, ready to tape my knuckles, but I shake him off, take one last shot for fuck-its sake, and move for the edge of the largest ring.

  I stand there, swaying on my feet a bit, not moving from the front post as the fight ends with a quick knock out, and the next begins.

  The smaller cards around us are over now, too, so the crowd here grows, wider and wider, deeper. Louder.

  And me, I grow drunker, my body heavier, but I feel light as a fucking feather.

  Dante, our crowd feeder, puts his megaphone at his side, and steps over to me. He slaps me on the back, his eyes on the two in the center, dancing around each other.

  “What’s good, Brayshaw?”

  I shake my head. “Shit,” I slur. “Ready to get in there.”

  He nods. “Guy wants to know if he’s got a pass tonight or what you need from him?”

  “I’ll never come in here looking for a fucking ego boost, D. Don’t need one. Tell him to go hard.” I look to him. “Tell him not to stop.”

  Dante’s head pulls back slightly, but he nods, hits my back again, then swivels around the circle again, yelling into his megaphone for the two in the center to stop playing footsy or take it to the church.

  Not sure how long their fight takes, or when I stepped to the center of the ring, but shouts echo in my ears and then a fist in my face.

  I stumble back, a smile finding my lips and I right myself.

  I throw my hands out, taunting the guy with my fingers.

  Closer, bitch.

  Another hit to my head, but I manage to shuffle my feet to stay steady. I give a hard blink, and the gorilla motherfucker comes into view, so I swing, hitting him in the ribs, only to catch a knee to mine.

  I laugh, spitting what must be blood from my mouth and go in again, but suddenly I’m staring at the fucking sky, flat on my back and weight drops on top of me.

  My body jolts with each hit, but I keep grinning.

  When I laugh, the dude’s head comes down on mine.

  In the same second, his body is gone and mine is being drug across the dirt.

  I yank from the hands, and push to my feet, using the rope to guide me outside of it.

  I stumble against the crowd, each body serving as leverage until I’m in the clearing, but before I fall onto my ass, a shoulder hits my side, taking my weight while another finds the other.

  “When did he get here?”

  “I can fucking hear you, you punk bitch.”

  Bishop scoffs, shoving me into the open trunk of my SUV.

  Suddenly the seats fold and my body falls flat against them.

  “Fuck you here for anyway, you should be—”

  “Where you should be?” he throws back. “And I was, but Captain is there, Royce, too. Think she’s fine for at least an hour.”

  There goes my fucking chest again.

  I lift and slam my head back. It’s pointless, there’s no pain.

  “I need to go make sure everyone gets paid,” Mac says before footsteps crunch against the ground.

  I peel my eyes open, finding what looks a lot like a three-headed Bass fucking Bishop.

  “I can barely fucking handle one of you, asshole,” I slur, my eyes closing again.

  He scoffs, then a water bottle hits me in the shoulder.

  I don’t reach for it. I’ll take the fucking hangover tomorrow. Wish for it.

  “She’s lookin’ thinner, paler. I’ve tried to track when she’s eating, which is close to never when she’s in sight, but maybe she is behind closed doors.”

  Behind closed doors with my brother.

  “I didn’t ask for a report.”

  “Nah, but you need one. You’re acting like a little bitch,” he says.

  I jolt up, but the Macallan in me won’t allow it and my muscles give out.

  Bishop sighs, then my legs are being pushed aside and a door slams.

  After a few minutes my car starts rolling, and a few minutes after that, alcohol wins out.

  I stay this way, fucked up, and delirious for the rest of Spring Break.

  Fuck everybody.

  “Where the fuck is he?” Captain snaps when Royce steps from the SUV without Maddoc. “I thought he agreed to be here?”

  “He did. And he is.” Royce gives an emotionless stare.

  “Where?” Cap asks.

  Royce shrugs. “Truck. Fell asleep on the way here.”

  “It’s a two-minute drive,” I say.

  “Yeah, well.” Royce starts walking away. “Not like he’s getting any sleep at night.”

  Cap glares, shaking his head. “That’s fucked up, man.”

  Royce only shrugs, though. “Lots of shit’s fucked up.”

  He pushes ahead, not bothering to wait for me, so we can walk into class together like normal.

  Victoria steps in behind him, giving a nod over her shoulder before disappearing, too.

  Cap looks to me, but I shake my head. “Go, I’m good.”

  He doesn’t believe me, but he leaves anyway, glancing back once before he turns the corner.

  I close my eyes and slide my headphones in, pushing myself against the door frame. I hit the little button without looking, skipping song after song until a more fitting one comes on, then I turn it up as loud as it can go.

  “Hear Me Now” by Bad Wolves blares through my ears and I soak up every word, wishing I could fall into the world of the song. Wishing the world around me could be simpler.

  It’s not.

  It won’t be.

  Five weeks. It’s been five weeks and the toll it’s taken on me weighs like five years. My body is sore for no reason, my head a constant war zone, and my drive is nonexistent.

  It’s not right for me to act—

  My thoughts are cut off when a familiar warmth grows closer, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut tighter. My breathing speeds up, coming and going in choppy spurts, broken gasps.

  The back of a knuckle slides up my jaw, a fire trail following, both burning and soothing all at once. When he reaches my right earbud, he tugs, forcing it to fall out.

  I bite into my tongue, my hands planting themselves against the wall behind me as he grows closer. I can feel him all around me now.

  His fingertips brush my collarbone as he grips the wire, and I know he’s lifted it to his own ear to listen.

  As the song comes to an end, he speaks.

  “No, baby.” His words fan across my face. “I can’t hear you... not anymore.”

  I let my head fall, and he tugs the other earbud from my ear, pulling on the string until the entire iPod slips from my pocket.

  “I can’t do this,” he rasps, the sound so broken my throat closes in on me. “I don’t want to do this.”

  My body grows cold as his disappears.

  I slip, not bothering to try and lessen the blow as my ass hits the floor.

  I stay there until Royce finally loses his cool, poking his head out and collecting me from the floor.

  He says nothing, but his hug before he drags me in is more than enough.

  Snagging the glasses from his collar, he slips them over my eyes, and we shuffle into the room.

  My plan is not to speak to anyone the rest of the day, and it works for a while, but then it’s lunchtime.

  I step around the corner, headed toward our usual table when my lack of self-control snaps, and right back where it belongs.

  The Graven girl is back. She drops into what was my seat beside Maddoc. He doesn’t even look her way, but she smiles wide and puts off a sense of belonging that irks my fucking nerves.

  Captain steps up alongside me, and Maddoc’s head jerks this way, eyes covered with those damn glasses I forgot how much I hated until recently.

  “What’s wrong?” Cap asks.

  When I don’t respond right away, Captain’s stare slides to the table, then back to me. “He doesn’t want her, Raven.”

  I can’t help it, a laugh bubbles out of me.

  Man, this is some fucked
up shit – my new future telling me his brother doesn’t want the girl who has taken the seat I gave up without a fight.

  What choice did I have, though, really?

  Donley has sent a text straight to Captain’s cell every couple days where he makes sure to mention Zoey. Sometimes it’s in a roundabout way, like how she enjoys ice cream, and then Cap will call Maria and sure enough, Zoey had a cone earlier that day.

  I tried to convince him to go get her, to say fuck you to everyone around. We’re doing our part he deserves his daughter and needs to feel her safety, but Captain refuses. He says he doesn’t want to uproot her yet when she’d be forced to leave all she’s known and move into a hotel where she doesn’t even have her own space. He wants to bring her home, but when he has a home ready for her, so the transition is smooth and doesn’t confuse her.

  We both know Donley is only doing this to make sure we keep up as agreed, and there’s been no true threat as far as harm or danger to her. That would be a completely different story.

  Regardless, we’re doing what was asked.

  Zoey is safe.

  Maddoc is here, where he belongs.

  “Raven,” Cap tries again.

  I turn to him.

  “I know things feel fucked right now, and I won’t stand here and pretend they’re not, but you were meant for this.”

  “Stop doing that.” I glare.

  His brows jump in confusion. “Doing what?”

  “Stop acting like you didn’t give up your life for mine,” I force past clenched teeth. “Something I never would have asked you to do. Stop acting like I won’t fuck this up. Stop telling me I was meant for this. I’m a fucked-up stoner with two chips on her shoulder. I’m a fucking shit storm waiting to happen.”

  “You can do this.”

  “I will crack. I will hurt you, and I will hate myself.”

  Captain steps up to me, his palms finding my cheeks as he holds my head up, forcing my eyes to his.

  He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get to speak.

  Shouting starts behind us and Royce calls for him in a panic.

  I spin just in time to see Maddoc throw his fist across Leo’s face, then quickly slam a chair into Collins’ back.

  “Fuck,” rushes from Captain as he runs for the mess, but he doesn’t have to stop him.