Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)(23)

He walks over, eyeing me carefully.

I nod my chin, and he drops down opposite of me. He taps his knuckle twice against the wall behind him and not five seconds later Royce steps out, half asleep.

He frowns at the sight of us, but slowly drops beside Cap.

I look from Captain to Royce.

“She knows.”

Royce looks to my door. “What does this mean?”

My stare meets his, and realization hits him.

He closes his eyes, dropping his head against the wall. “We take her or she runs on her own.”

Captain’s chest rises with a deep inhale, and he looks down the hall.

“Captain.”

He licks his lips, like words are lodged there and need help out. “I have an idea.” He lets out a tortured chuckle. “I have no fucking clue if it’ll work, but I do know you’ll hate it.”

“Fuck, man,” Royce rasps, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Does it keep her from them?”

“Sort of.” Captain’s eyes hit mine. “But not only them.”

My vision blurs, so I close my eyes. My airway starts to close, so I swallow past the grating in my throat and force out the only fucking thing I’m one hundred percent sure of at this moment.

“I trust you.”





“Do you have questions for me?” Rolland asks quietly.

I scoff, looking out the window. “None I would trust you to answer honestly.”

“That’s fair.”

My eyes slice to his. “Fair?” I repeat. “Fair?” I shift in the seat to face him fully. “Are you for real right now?” I gape at him.

“I simply meant I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me. I haven’t given you much reason to.”

A humorless laugh leaves me. “You’re seriously sitting there talking like we’re headed to a fucking basketball game and this is the small talk on the way.”

He moves his eyes to his phone, typing away. “I’m sorry you feel that—”

I slap the phone from his hands and his glare flies to mine.

My eyes narrow. “I’m not sure you know your boys at all if you think this isn’t gonna go ass fucking backward to whatever you’ve cooked up in your head. I know them, each fucking one. They would never agree to stay away for this. I can promise you this will not be as cut and dry as you want.”

His forehead tightens and he settles more against his seat. “What do you think they’ll do?”

“I don’t know, but I suggest you think back into that vault of a mind you seem to have and figure it out, that or stand there with wide eyes and tense muscles letting them know what a great leader you are, can’t even keep your own sons in order.” I tilt my head. “How ever will you control an entire town, dear Brayshaw?”

“You sound like you want me to govern them in.”

“As if you could if you tried,” I force past clenched teeth. “What I want is for you to understand and accept the shift you refuse to see.”

He eyes me a moment. “And what shift would that be, Raven?”

The car slows to a stop, the locks on the door popping up.

“What was once yours no longer is. This is their town, best if you figure it out now, Rolland. I’d hate for you to be embarrassed when you give an order and all eyes shift to them for confirmation.” I push my door open and walk straight for the man blocking the entrance across from where we’re parked, not acknowledging the gun sticking from his pants.

He pulls out a metal detector, his eyes locked on me as he moves it across my front, pausing when it beeps at the waist of my jeans.

He eyes me. “No weapons allowed.”

“Are you telling me the men inside, the men who run entire towns and meet in an abandoned warehouse on a dirt lot, have not a single form of protection on them?”

The man’s eyes narrow.

“Sergio, please meet Raven Brayshaw.” Rolland steps up behind me.

Sergio’s eyes snap back to me and he dips his head, moving to the side with another breath.

I scoff, squeezing through the iron door that’s slowly started to roll open.

We’re met with two more security, but they don’t look either of us in the eye.

Again, they dip their heads and move aside.

A few feet in and the walls change. From rusted old iron to black drapes, just like the one at the end of the hall.

It’s pushed open for us and we step into a small cubed space. A curtain is pulled closed behind us, and the one in front is slid open.

My pulse begins to race.

I don’t realize my leg is bouncing until Rolland leans closer to whisper, “Settle yourself, Raven. You must be sure for this to be accepted. They will smell your fear or hesitance.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper back, and take a deep breath. “I’m not fearful, or hesitant.”

An empty chair comes into view, and then the farther the curtain rolls, the more chairs are revealed, only these ones aren’t empty. In each one sits a different man, and behind each man is another.

“Ready?” Rolland asks and extends his elbow for me to take.

I push forward without him.

I don’t miss the twitch to the man at the end’s lips. I glare at him first.