Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)
Page 38
I frown, wiping the sweat from my face as I take the water Royce passes me, his expression matching mine.
“Fuck you talking about, man?” Captain comes up, his hands on his hips as he tries to catch his breath.
We worked a lot of cardio today, gearing up for week three of our season.
“Your new girl.” He looks pointedly at each of us individually. “She spend too much time with one another and got mad?”
Something has me stepping forward, but Cap shifts in front of me with ease, giving me a warning glance to keep my shit together before I make a stupid fucking move by showing possessives over a fucking toy.
He steps away before Jason’s eyes even hit mine again.
“You talking about Raven’s face?” Our boy, Leo, drops onto the bench, switching out his old LeBron’s for some slides. “Yeah, I saw that shit, too. She was walking back to the Bray house early this morning when I was out doing my route.”
Leo is piss poor and delivers newspapers for a bit of cash at the crack of fucking dawn to the last few neighborhoods around here that still read the actual paper. Makes for a good second eye, sees what we can’t and reports back when necessary.
“Yeah, that girl.” Royce chuckles, only Cap and me can tell it’s forced. “She’s feisty.”
And it’s left at that.
Everyone parts ways and as soon as they’re gone, I turn to my brothers.
“You guys see her yet today?”
“Nope.” Cap shrugs and Royce shakes his head.
“What do you think happened?” Royce asks.
“Catty chicks?” Cap guesses.
Royce snorts. “Yeah right, none of them would get a hit on her.”
“None are brave enough to try.” I look between them. “We gotta find out. We already made it clear no one’s to touch her after that bleach shit. Someone’s not listening.”I spit, then with all the energy I have left, I throw myself forward, hitting her square across the jaw. She stumbles into the crowd, her feet sliding from under her, ass hitting the ground.
The onlookers whistle and beer flies through the air, splashing onto me.
Fuck, I’ll need to rinse these clothes before laundry goes in.
People try to get my attention, but I squeeze from the circle and move over to the crates.
Bass slips from the crowd with a grin as I’m jumping up. He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, shaking his head.
“Dayum, Rae. You only get better out here. You’re a fucking beast.”
I shrug, grinning to myself, sticking both hands out. He slaps money into one, then helps cut the tape off the other.
“Where the fuck you learn to box like that?”
“Mom’s not much of a mom. Brought trouble.”
“Ah.” He nods. “You taught yourself, then?”
I inspect my knuckles on my left hand, squeezing my fists shut then opening them again. “When there’s nobody else to keep hands off you, you learn to fight ‘em off yourself.”
He pauses, his eyes shifting between mine. “That bad where you came from?”
“I know others who had it worse.”
He grabs my elbows and helps me down. “You always downplay your problems?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “What do you know about my problems, Bass?”
“Not enough.” He smirks and steps forward. “Change that, Rae.”
I drop my grin to my feet, before looking back up ... and then I’m pulled back.
“What the fu—”
I glance over my shoulder, and my blood boils as not one, but all three of my latest pain in the asses stand behind me. I try to jerk free of Maddoc’s hold, but I’m only shoved down the line until Royce is gripping my forearms.
“That was some badass shit there, RaeRae,” he whispers, laughing when I try and elbow him.
Bass shifts so he can meet my eyes through the three and Maddoc moves to block him.
“Rae—”
“You can go now, Bishop,” Maddoc cuts him off. “And stay away from Raven.”
He scoffs. “It’s my job to bring in the—”
“I didn’t ask you any questions,” Maddoc cuts him off.
“Go, Bass, it’s fine.” I give him his out, no need for trouble to fall at his feet because of me. His eyes find mine again and he nods, glares at all three boys, then makes the smart choice by backing away. The last thing I want is for his side hustle to be blown up at the hands of these assholes.
They cage me in, all wearing familiar glares that have zero effect on me. I yank from Royce’s hold, grab my sweater off the box and pull it over my head, snatch my backpack and place it over my shoulder and weave my way through the crates. And, of fucking course, they follow.
“This where you been sneaking off to late at night, to beat bitches’ faces in?” Royce jokes. “And here I thought someone was keeping that pussy wet for—”
Royce grunts and I glance back, finding his glare on Maddoc.