Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)

“Raven.” I glare.

She licks her lips, taking a half a step forward.

Her hands rub against her jeans and unease flares in my chest.

“Raven...”

My head snaps straight when her name flies from Graven’s mouth.

I see it when she resolves herself to whatever the fuck was going through her mind.

Her chin lifts, shoulders square.

In one swift motion, she whips her sweater over her head, a black jersey with teal trimming – a Wolves jersey, a fucking Brayshaw High jersey – with the large number one on it covers her frame. A jersey identical to the one Graven is wearing.

And I see red, blood fucking red, and it’s about to be his blood everyone else sees. I’ll paint the fucking floor with it.

He reaches out and she steps closer to him.

He’s dead.

My brothers dart forward first, but our teammates move in. Mac and Leo are hardly able to hold back Captain, but nobody can contain Royce.

And that’s my fucking girl beside that little bitch.

Fuck starting. Fuck everything.

I shove Coach to the ground, half leaping over his body as I rush him, but I’m yanked back by a group of my teammates.

It takes a second but I’m able to throw them off one by one and dart forward, but I skid to a fucking halt when my eyes lift.

Royce stands braced to fight, trembling in a rage he’s about to unleash on the preppy prick in khakis.

Only a five foot six, dark-haired piece of fucking trouble stands before him.

Against him.

Against us.

Fury flares and before I can think better of it, I’m yanking her by the wrist until she’s right in front of me. Any normal girl would have shrieked, frightened eyes flying to the guy jerking her around. Not Raven.

She has control of her stare, purposely taking an extra, careless moment to meet mine.

Hard. Unwavering.

I heave her even closer.

There’s gasping behind me, and I know how this must seem.

Raven’s face and arms are bruised and beat and now they see me manhandling her, but I couldn’t give two fucks what they’re thinking right now.

“It’s nothing personal, Big Man.” There’s fire dripping from her words as if she’s baiting the fucking enemy. Determination screams behind her eyes, but what she’s hoping for is unclear, even to me. “Just business.”

“Let her go, Maddoc,” comes from my coach who is now at my side.

Raven’s lips smash together and as I start to loosen my grip, she begins tugging against my hold, drawing away from me.

I quickly let go, darting forward and using both hands, I grip the jersey she’s wearing by the collar. I pull, shredding it from top to bottom, forcing the fucking thing from her skin. She’s twisted around and falls against the floor with a thump, nothing but a sports bra on her upper half.

“Maddoc!” Royce yells, bounding forward. “The fuck, man?!”

My shoulders fall, my eyes frozen on her exposed skin, and I swear time stops fucking ticking.

Royce’s shoes squeak against the flooring as he skids to a stop beside me. “Holy shit,” he rasps.

“Raven...” Captain drawls out quietly, stuck where he stands, but I sense it when his eyes harden and slice to me.

Large bruises, one the perfect imprint of a boot, covers half her stomach, smaller ones trailing down her abdomen and up her chest.

“What the hell happened to her?” is whispered to someone behind me.

Baby—

My body jerks toward her subconsciously, but Captain and Royce are gripping me by my arms and dragging me backward in the same second. They toss me back, shoving me forward when we reach the door.

We’re in the truck and smashing down the road in the next minute.

“The fuck just happened?” Royce shouts, panic and anger threaded in his tone.

“I don’t know,” Cap seethes, picking up more speed.

“Her body.” I look to them. “Her fucking body!” It looks ten times fucking worse than it did the night it happened. “You see what someone did to her?!” I yell, punching the dash.

“Yeah, man,” Royce growls. “We saw.”

“Everyone fucking saw, Maddoc,” Captain barks and my muscles grow tight. “And now they probably think you beat her ass, you dumbass! Nobody knows she was jumped!”

“Fuck them and what they think! She was wearing his fucking number!” I turn to Cap. “She is mine, Captain! And we just fucking left her back there ... with that little bitch!”

“Is she though?” Royce sits forward, spitting venom with every word. “Maddoc, she knew he was coming. That was fucking planned. She just served us on our own damn court.”

“There has to be more going on here,” Captain adds dryly, completely unsure of his own words.

“The fuck are we missing then, Cap?”

“I’m telling you, she fucking played us!” Royce shouts back. “We trusted her, man!”

“Stop,” Captain snaps. “Don’t cut her off yet, Royce. We need to find out what the fuck is going on.”

I look back at Royce and as soon as my eyes meet his, he shifts his glare out the window.

“We never should have trusted someone outside of us, man,” he spits, the muscle in his jaw ticking against his skin.

Trust has always come harder for him, but he better be fucking wrong here.

Captain’s phone starts ringing, and I grab it, frowning. “Blocked caller.”

Cap pulls over and answers, putting the phone on speaker.

“Dad,” he calls out.

“Are you with your brothers?” our dad asks.

“We’re here,” Royce adds, sitting forward in his seat.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand.

Fuck his question.

He obviously fucking knows we aren’t in class – he never interrupts us at school unless something went down and he got wind. “How is he at Brayshaw? Why is he at Brayshaw?”

He stuns us when he says, “I gave the okay on his transfer request.”

“Without talking to us first?” I bite out. “You let us get completely fucking blindsided in there! How do you expect us to keep control and order if we’re not fucking aware? You made us look like fools!”

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