Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 2)

I’m well aware none of the boys are blood Brayshaw, and that Rolland, Maddoc’s biological dad, was brought into the family when he was younger. I know damn well that after Rolland’s best friends were killed, he adopted their sons to raise as his own, giving each his earned Brayshaw name.

Three boys, not one blood related, but brothers by choice.

I know who the fuck they are.

“Yeah, you must,” he continues when I say nothing. “But what is it you think you know about my family?” He eyes me. “About my name?”

A laugh bubbles out of me instantly, and I roll my eyes. “Please, pretty boy. Tell me you’re not dumb enough to think I’d answer that?” I lean forward to meet his glare. “I may be sitting on your couch, but don’t fool yourself into believing it’s where I want to be.”

“You might wanna work on changing that, it’s where you should be.”

“Hard pass.”

He laughs lightly, his chin lowering. “Did you know it was a Graven lawyer who got Rolland Brayshaw convicted?”

I give him nothing, but even still, he nods.

“Yeah, you did. But did you know that lawyer was my father?”

I force an impassive expression when every muscle inside me locks. “Nope.”

Holy shit. Not just any Graven put their dad away, but Collins’ dad himself?

“Case didn’t even go to trial.” He smirks at my frown – so much for a blank face. “Daddy Brayshaw denied, denied, denied up until the very last second. Then, right before he was set for court, he changed his tune, pled guilty and took the deal.”

“Maybe he grew a conscience.”

“Or maybe he had a completely different reason to admit to a crime he swore he didn’t commit.” He arches a brow.

I force myself not to swallow but color me intrigued. “And what might that be?”

He simpers like he’s privy to something I’m not, picks up his glass and tosses it back in one gulp. He stands. “Now you’re the fool if you think I’ll tell you, but maybe, in time, Rae. That depends on you. Get up and let’s go.”

“Where?” I snap.

“Shopping.” He lets his eyes run over my form. “Can’t have my woman looking like she stepped out of a low budget music video.”

“Why not? I’ve gotta walk next to a guy who looks forever ready for a round of golf.”

He laughs lightly, and I frown. “Class doesn’t mix with trash, Rae.”

“Yet you were ready to pay me for my time, Collins. Weird, right?”

“Get up and get in the fucking car, this is non-negotiable.”

“I’m not dressing like some prep school princess.”

“You’ll dress how I say,” he snaps with a glare. “Don’t forget, you agreed to do this my way, now get up.”

I take my time pushing to my feet and move to stand directly in front of him.

“You think you’ll win this little battle, but you won’t.”

“Yeah, and what makes you so sure?”

A slow smirk finds my lips and his brows meet at the center. “Respect can’t be bought or earned when blackmail is in the mix. Everyone at your feet is paid or pushed while everyone at theirs is proud to be where they are. Ever ask yourself what happens when those guys you had jump me feel the need to brag and do because you haven’t earned their loyalty? Or when they get a higher offer somewhere else and drop you like the bitch you are? You—”

“Watch yourself, Rae.” He pushes closer, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I can keep this easy or I can make this hard, your call.”

I meet his one step forward with two of my own. “You watch, Collins. I don’t know what you thought you’d get from me or what put you in this mindset, but you’re an even bigger clown than I knew if you think for a second easy is what I need.”

I step back, watching the fury rise in his eyes with each step taken. “The ball may be in your court but consider me the referee in this game. You didn’t gain yourself a soldier, you earned yourself a snake. Don’t get bit, Graven.”

His frown holds for a moment, but slowly a malicious grin takes its place.

He makes his way toward me, stopping to whisper near my ear. “Oh, this is bound to be good, Brayshaw. I can’t wait for all the sweet little lies to come out. That pretty little head of yours is gonna spin, baby, but if you’re a good girl, I might just hold your hair back when the vomit makes its way up.”

He pushes past me, snatching his keys off the side table before storming out the door, leaving me with nothing to do but follow his punk ass out like a good girl.

Dick.“You better be curling your hair real damn pretty if it’s taking you this long to get ready!” Collins snaps from the other side of the door.