Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 3)

I swallow. “Bass will help me.”

“Fuck him,” he spits, angrily. “I hate him. I hate him near you, I fucking hate him around and I plan to make sure it’s mutual. I’m gonna fuck him over, one way or another for good measure.” He glares. “He’s not me. He can’t protect you like I can. He wouldn’t die for you like I would.”

I give a tight smile. “I know.” I step against him, pulling his head down to mine. “I know, but I need you to stay with him. Be here for him while I can’t be, while Maddoc isn’t. I need you, ponyboy, but he needs you more right now. Please.”

Royce’s facial muscles constrict, and he drops his forehead to mine. A sad scoffed laugh leaves him, his hands finding my hips. “Problem child’s sayin’ please?” he teases, closing his eyes.

A small laugh escapes. “Guess I am.”

His jaw clamps shut, but he leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth before pulling back, his dark lashes low. “He’s gone if you come back with so much as an added scratch. Make sure that’s clear.”

I agree, moving for the door.

“I hate this,” he says on a shuttered whisper.

“I know.” I pause to look at Captain then meet Royce’s eyes again. “I’ll be back.”

“You better be.” He frowns. “Or we all die today.”The elevator doors open, and I step onto the cement, my eyes finding Bass a few feet out, Victoria at his side. He slips a cigarette between his lips, nodding his chin as he brings his lighter up.

I glance the way he’s motioned and jerk to an immediate stop.

Rolland sits against the side wall, tie undone, head in his hands. Not one of his security around, his driver not perched near waiting.

It’s just him.

I walk over, stopping right in front of him, kicking his shoe when he doesn’t move a single muscle.

He jolts, glare flying to mine, only for panic to flare the second he sees me. He jumps to his feet. “Is he okay?”

I bite into my cheek, glaring at him. “Not yet, he’s not.”

His heavy inhale causes my chest to ache, even more so when his eyes morph into the ones I used to know, concern laced through them. For me. “Where are you going, Raven?”

“To make a point. To let them know I’ll fuck their world harder than they’ve fucked mine and without hesitation.”

His lips pinch and I know he wants to argue, but he keeps them locked tight, as he should.

“Go up.”

Rolland’s eyes slice to mine.

“Be there for your sons, especially the one on the verge of flipping out, he’s up there and feeling more alone than ever. Be a fucking dad and nothing else, for once. Stare at Captain and replay all the wrong decisions you made, but first I need something from you.”

“Anything,” he relents.

“I need to get in touch with the Riveras.”

“Gio?” he guesses, but I don’t bother confirming.

With his forehead drawn tight, he pulls a random card from his wallet and a pen from his dress shirt pocket, quickly scribbling a number on the back of it.

I stare at the number, then meet his eyes.

“He’ll come home, Raven. It might take time, but he will.” His tone is more hopeful than confident.

“What makes you say that?”

“He knows nothing else.”

“You’re wrong.” I shake my head, looking off. “He knows pain.” I force my eyes back to his. “And that’s enough to keep anyone away.”

I tilt my head, glancing up at the glass building, knowing eyes are on me even though I can’t see them. I give a nod, and then step back and Rolland grabs his suit jacket off the ground, moving toward the elevator as it begins to slide open.

“You can trust the others, too,” he says. “Trick, Alec, they’re good people. Honest, noble.”

“Trust only those who earn it,” I repeat the words of a Brayshaw.

I’d swear his lip twitches. “Smart girl.” With a deep inhale, he says, “You’re looking for answers.” My eyes move to his as he steps into the elevator. “Start with her.”

Rolland looks over my shoulder right as the door clicks shut, and then there I stand, staring at a reflection of myself, but movement behind me has my eyes lifting.

My hands fall to my sides as I slowly turn around.

Victoria.

Everyone here serves a purpose of some kind...

Her brown eyes intensify, flying between mine.

No...

“Raven...” Her voice echoes around me, bouncing off the wall, creating a deep ringing in my ears.

I step toward her.

She doesn’t cower.

“Raven.” Her hands lift.

Bass looks between us, his spine shooting straight.

He flicks his cigarette and takes quick steps toward her. Gripping her arm, he turns her to face him. “What’d you do?” he demands.

I reach them in the same second, my hand shooting out to clasp her throat and her head snaps my way, her fingers coming up to latch against my wrists. I squeeze, but she doesn’t fight me. She nods, accepting, which makes my breaths come in shorter spurts.