Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)(50)

“We wanted to be there. Silent strength, RaeRae, that’s what we could have given you, and him.”

I swallow, but it burns. “Is he okay?”

“Let’s go.” He ignores me. “Someone needs to be there when he gets out of surgery.”

He starts walking when I ask, “Maddoc isn’t there yet?”

Royce freezes. He turns his head, but not all the way – a slight glance over the shoulder. “Nah...” He starts walking again. “Not yet.”

“I...” My brows snap together. Never. He would never not be there or here in a moment like this, no matter fucking what led to it. I dart forward. “Royce.”

He pauses again, shaking his head. He looks to Bass who spins on his heels and steps out the door.

I walk around, planting my feet right in front of Royce.

“I can’t find him,” he whispers regretfully.

“Call him.”

“I tried.”

“Try again,” I snap, panic flaring.

He digs in his pocket, flopping Maddoc’s phone into my hand.

My eyes reluctantly pull from it to him. “Royce...”

“Had Mac track it when he didn’t answer. Found it with his GPS in the alley behind the donut store.” He doesn’t meet my eye. “He ripped it straight from the dash. We can talk about this later. Right now, Captain needs his family.”

He waits for me to nod and together the two of us make our way to his SUV.

The drive to the hospital is a silent one.

When we get there, we pull around the back.

As we step out, another door sounds, and I turn. Bass is ten steps behind me.

He gives a subtle nod, so I nod back.

Royce stops, glancing around and in the next second, what looks like a glass window, becomes a sliding door and we step inside what is apparently a private elevator. It starts to close but I throw my arm in front of it, not looking Royce’s way when his head slices toward me.

Bass steps inside with us.

The ride up, I’m sure is a quick one, but with each floor higher, my distress levels double. “There’s no way he knows Captain’s hurt. He’d be here if he did...” I look to Royce who again glances away. “Right? He’d be here?”

Royce’s forehead contorts. “Any other day, I’d say yeah in a heartbeat, laugh at you for questioning it, but...”

But he found out I married his brother today, and at the same time and in front of the entire fucking school.

Big Man...

My mouth opens but I close it just as quick. “He told me to do this, then left when I listened.”

Royce glares at Bass a moment so he slips the headphones forever around his neck on, turning away.

Royce shifts toward me.

“Maybe he didn’t want you to listen. Usually you suck at it.” Royce glares.

“The stakes were too high.”

Royce steps closer to me. “And you’re too strong to take orders from any-fucking-body,” he growls, real anger in his dark eyes. “You need to realize this now before it’s too fucking late. Look around you, soak up the power they, that we all, are and have given you without even realizing. The fate of this town lies in a single decision of an eighteen-year-old girl?” His brows jump. “Must be a helluva girl, yeah?”

I close my eyes but don’t get a second longer to think, the door behind us opens, a security guard blocking the entryway.

He meets each of our eyes and takes a single step back. He lets us by, but his baton flings forward before Bass can step off.

Bass drops his head back lazily, his hands sliding in his pockets.

“Step back inside,” the man tells him.

“Let him through.” Anger flares.

The guy’s eyes find mine. “I have orders-—”

“Orders that you’ll forget about as of right now.” I glance at Royce who tips his chin the slightest bit. I step forward, head high. “All your orders will come from me now. The only people allowed to step through that door and off on this floor is the three of us, Maddoc, and Victoria.”

Royce leans over me, holding his phone out for the man to look at the screen. “This is Victoria. I’ll send you the photo.”

The man’s frown is deep. “Mr. Brayshaw will be arriving—”

“And you will send him away. He can enter when and if I say.”

“You clear, Fernando?” Royce stands tall at my back.

When I look to Bass he winks.

“Yes, sir.” He turns to me, dropping his chin to his chest. “Ms. Brayshaw, I wish Captain quick healing.”

“Thanks,” I rasp, moving my feet when Royce grips my hand and takes off down the hall.

Right when we get to the end – an open room with hanging TVs, a small kitchen area, and stocked bar – a short, pudgy man walks from the double doors.

“Doc?” Royce’s grip on my hand tightens to the point I’d worry he’d break a knuckle, but I don’t dare react. I doubt he even knows he’s doing it.

“Almost out of surgery, they’re sewing him up now.”

“He’s okay?” My free hand shoots out, gripping Royce’s forearm.

“He will be. I’ve collected the bullet.” His eyes shift toward Royce. “Should you need it for any reason.”