Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 2)

“Just keep talking,” Captain snaps, throwing a frown at me.

“I told him there was a video of the girl who had been fighting out there, and you three ... fucking. All I knew was it was being pushed as Brayshaw blackmail material, but it didn’t sit right with me because how would a video of you three getting with the baddest bit— ” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. “The baddest chick we’ve seen out there be blackmail material? More like a good ass porno, you know?”

“Wait.” I shake my head.

“Video of us fucking...” Royce’s eyes hit mine and then widen.

I frown looking from him to Captain. “What?”

“The cabin.”

My muscles lock.

The fucking cabin.

Graven.

Fervor spreads through my body and a tremor follows.

Benny recoils in fear.

“Look, man,” he rushes out. “I called Bishop on purpose. I knew he was in charge of running shit at the warehouses for you guys. I thought he’d go to you.” His eyes bounce between the three of us. “I was doing a solid, I swear!”

I push to my feet and move for the truck, my brothers on my heels.

I grip Bishop by the neck and slam him against the door so hard his head snaps back against the glass, hard enough for it to bounce right off.

He doesn’t fight me, he knows he fucked up and takes it.

“You better fucking pray or grasp for some kind of straw, Bishop.”

I toss his ass to the ground, moving to the front of the vehicle to talk to my brothers quietly.

“Bishop is fucking dead,” Royce growls.

“Raven earned his trust like she earned ours. We can’t fuck him up for that,” Captain reasons. “We wanted that for her, but we can fuck him up for not telling us this the second she took off.”

“Fuck!” Royce folds his hands behind his head, looking to the sky. “She did it again. She fucking protected us.”

“But at what cost?” Captain says quietly. “This is Collins we’re talking about.”

“I’m going to get her.”

“Now?” Royce asks eagerly.

“Right fucking now.”

Cap and Royce move for his SUV

I climb in mine, and Bass slides in the passenger seat.

My heartbeat hammers against my ribs – the fucking cabin.

Shit.

Captain leads down the road, but I hit the gas, swerving on to the wrong side of the street to pass.

Bass grips the handle above his head, his glare snapping my way briefly.

Captain shakes his head as I fly by him – I know that’s why he wanted to lead.

But this is my girl we’re going after.

“Where we going?” Bass asks.

“Shut the fuck up, Bishop.” I glance both ways, zooming through the red light before the cars have a chance to cross, looking in my rearview mirror when Captain honks his horn. He throws his hands up, letting them come down to smack against his wheel.

My phone rings in the next second, but I don’t fish it from my pocket. I already know he’s gonna ask me to pull over and wait.

He’s fucking trippin’, I couldn’t calm myself if I tried, and I’m not even gonna attempt to.

Raven is the most stubborn fucking girl I’ve ever known.

She’s venom in the water. Not the snake itself, but the fatal liquid that floats across the top. No matter where you step, if even twenty feet away, she’s finding her way inside.

She’s in me.

She’s in my brothers.

And she’s in the prick next to me. Why else would he feel the need to warn her, a girl he hardly fucking knows, when he’s been working for us the last year?

Our dad had his file sent over the second one of his men got word of what was going on in his home. Turned out his dad beat his ass, put him in the hospital for the last time, all for defending his little sister. Our dad always got wind of these situations before whatever county these kids come from did.

Pick of the fucked-up litter.

We caught up with him before they could.

He liked what we offered, but he didn’t want his sister involved in anything illegal now that she had a chance to be free of her parents.

They had an aunt that wanted her, but she couldn’t afford any after-school and summer programs for her and she worked for a living, so we took care of it. She was sent out of state for a better life and he moved into the Bray house. Worked for us since.

“What’s Collins got to do with this?” Bass asks, his voice a little tight when we’re finally racing across the bridge.

“You fucked up, Bishop. You’ll be lucky if we don’t ruin you for it.”

I blast the radio so I don’t have to hear his voice anymore.

Song’s pretty fucking fitting and I grow more antsy.

We’re getting close, so fucking close and my pulse starts to drum in my ears. My blood is pumping, flowing straight into my muscles and making me shake if my grip on the wheel tells me anything.