Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 3)

“Cap, we can’t keep this shit from her, man.” Royce steps closer, but his tone disagrees, and his next words prove it. “I mean, can we?”

“Graven made a move on her,” I tell them, filling them in on the bit they missed when Cap went after Perkins. “Donley drugged her, and he got a girl from our fucking group home to do it. He had a doctor waiting, pulled Raven’s fucking pants off, and stuck shit inside her, checked her. They could have done worse. She needs to know.”

Captain’s temple ticks. “If you tell her, she will be gone quicker than you can fucking run.”

My head draws back, my jaw locking shut a moment. “She won’t run from me,” I growl.

He gives a slow, mocking nod, eyes widening. “I know, brother, trust me, I fucking know what she’ll do. So do you. Don’t refuse to accept it.”

“Fuck!” Royce shouts and starts pacing, dragging my attention to him. Hands folding over his head, his beaten eyes smash into mine. “She’s too fucking loyal, brother,” Royce whispers and it hits me. “Too fucking loyal to sit back and do nothing.”

My face pales, my eyes slicing to my dad’s.

He gives a rueful smile. “She didn’t grow up here, yet she embodies who we are. She is Brayshaw by blood, at heart and will. She’ll do whatever it takes to save one.”

My facial muscles constrict to the point of pain, an instant pounding in my head taking over and dulling my vision.

I swallow, dropping against my dad’s desk, fucking struck for the first time I can remember.

“Nothing we say will matter, no move will make a difference. She’ll go to them willingly.”

Royce turns to our dad. “We need time. Can you make it happen?”

Regret washes over his face, his stare quickly cutting to Cap before returning to Royce. “There is nothing you can do, son.”

“Just fucking try to delay!” he yells, his moves growing frantic. “Can you do this for us or not?!”

“It will delay Zoey’s homecoming,” he says.

We look to Captain who gives a tight, instant nod.

“Delay, not prevent,” Cap rasps, looking away. “We have to try. We owe it to Raven.”

I keep Cap’s eyes on me, masking my face as they shift, reassurance and promise now staring back at me. His eyes beg me to see what he won’t say.

What do you know, brother?

Our dad nods. “I’ll cancel the meeting I set with the other families, but we can’t avoid Donley forever. He wants to collect what his family is owed, and I can’t promise they’ll stay away. Collins knows she’s to be his and he likely won’t be quiet about it.”

“So it’s settled.” Captain makes sure to meet and hold our eyes, our dad’s too. “Raven can’t know she’s promised to Collins.”

“Wow.”

All our heads whip around to find her in the doorway, arms crossed, glare on me.

Fuck.Promised to Collins.

What the hell?

As in, what, an arranged marriage?

What is this, the fucking stone ages?

The boys’ uncharacteristic silence has unease swimming in my gut, but I refuse to allow Rolland to see it, so I put a foot forward and walk in the room, glancing around the office I’ve never set foot in before today.

It’s everything you’d expect from a rich man’s private space, thanks to stereotypical movies and magazines.

Bourbon in the corner, textbooks from the floor to ceiling that have probably never been read, but someone takes the time to dust so it seems they aren’t for decoration. Cherry wood and leather all around, a golden cased globe at the edge of the desk and box of cigars on the other.

I could roll my eyes right now it’s so unoriginal. Nice and expensive, but unoriginal.

I drop onto the ottoman, cross my legs and lift my hands as to say lay it out for me but nobody says a damn word. They stand there frozen.

“So, we’re back to keeping secrets now, are we?” I ask, arching a brow.

Rolland sits up. “This is Brayshaw busi—”

I start laughing, cutting him off and Rolland’s eyes narrow. Mine follow.

“In that case, why don’t you spell it out for me real slow, Rolland, so I can soak it in.”

“Just because you—”

“Stop,” Royce barks. He shifts, stepping toward him. “You don’t get to insult her to save face right now. You fucked up. Own it. It’s not her fault who her mother is.”

The crease in Rolland’s forehead intensifies, and he sits forward, so I do the same.

“Raven,” he starts. “You’ve come to learn pieces of your life you didn’t know existed, but you don’t know everything yet. Right now, we’ll require you to do as asked while we work out some things.”

“Like how you plan to get me to agree to jump ships?”

His head tips to the side the slightest bit, the vein in his neck, much like the one in Maddoc’s, pulsing against his tan skin as he attempts to read me.