Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)(60)

He shakes his head. “Rolland wouldn’t tell me where she was when he was sentenced, but he told me it wasn’t only her. I did the math, too, Raven.”

“She shot him,” I tell him and his head jars back. “Captain. She found out about the engagement, and she came back. She shot him, twice.”

He rushes toward me and Bass dashes from behind the other door, gripping his elbow and spinning him, throwing him against the wall with one smooth move.

“I wasn’t... I’m not gonna hurt her.” He fights to meet my eyes. “He’s alive?”

“He’s alive. She’s... not.”

His body locks and he stops moving, all the fight leaving him as the color drains from his face. He goes slack, so Bass releases him and he falls to the floor.

“I never meant for any of this to happen. I never should have told Collins about you, but he... he found the birth certificate, and I had to lie. Pretend I was hiding her, and that I needed him, but he knew about the agreement and wanted what he felt he was owed. I had to tell him you existed to protect Zoey.”

“And for that, I’ll let you keep breathing, but you need to get out of this town. He doesn’t want you around, so you can’t be. Leave, Perkins, and don’t come back unless he calls and says you can.”

Victoria steps out then, and Perkins eyes move from her to me.

“This is my home.”

“Not anymore.”





“That’s them,” I say as an old pick-up truck rolls to a stop at the light ahead of us.

Bass parked just after the bridge where the Graven side of town begins.

I’ve stayed in Collins’ house, but I’ve never actually seen the Graven Estate that is apparently the entire back half of this end of the city.

“He’s looking right at you.”

I nod, right as Gio looks away, their vehicle passing right by us.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Shouldn’t we talk to them, make a plan or something?” Victoria sits forward in her seat.

“No. They know how to do their jobs better than anyone, I’m not gonna sit here and tell them how to do it. Drive, Bishop.”

He gets back on the road, making the right onto the street and following it down about two miles.

“There it is.”

We pull up to the iron gate, three times as tall as me, large curled spikes at the tips. The street literally dead ends at their property entryway.

“How do we open it?” I ask.

“Where did the others go?” Victoria asks.

I shrug, frowning as the gate opens before us. “Bass...”

“I know.” He rolls forward and the second the tail of the car is past the metal strip on the ground, the gate closes us in, a man stepping from behind a shrub with a gun at his hip, a wire hanging from his ear.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, and Bass follows, dipping his hands into his ashtray before we step out.

He stays at my back as I keep advancing. “Get out of my way.”

A small smile plays on the man’s lips. “Don’t work like that.”

“I’ll ask one more time before I make you.”

The man glares this time, reaching for his earpiece, but not before Bass quickly darts forward. He tosses the ashes in his face, dips in and rips the gun from his jeans while tearing the piece from his ear.

The man rushes back a step as he swipes at his eyes, blinking rapidly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I said move.”

The man scoffs, his lip curling. “You’re not in charge here.”

Bass shoots him in the foot and the man howls.

Victoria steps from the car, tossing him a roll of duct tape – must be a Bray staple, keeping duct tape on you – and places it over his mouth. The two drag him behind the shrub, wrapping his hands and feet together.

I crouch down beside him while they move back for the car. “You might wanna try hobbling out the gate. Don’t be a hero. Heroes die.”

He glares but then gives a curt nod, dropping his eyes from mine.

I don’t step back in the car when they slide inside it, I walk the hundred yards down the driveway with them on my tail.

The men on the porch glare, stepping closer to me, their hands on their waists but when I keep toward them, something shifts in their demeanor. They hesitate, then stand taller.

They fall aside.

“Ms. Brayshaw.” The one closest to the door drops his head while reaching for the handle.

I glance back at Bass and Victoria, who have just opened their doors and stepped out.

Bass lifts his arms, propping his elbow on the hood. “Your call.”

“Flip the car around and wait.”

“I’m coming with you,” Victoria shouts but her feet don’t move.

“No, you’re not.”

I turn back and step through the entryway.

Voices float from the left, so I slowly follow the sounds.

Two women smile at each other, laundry in both their hands, crisp white bedding stacked perfectly in front of them. The flooring alerts them of my presence and both their gazes snap to mine. Their smiles fade instantly, their laughter disappearing with it.

The women quickly drop what’s in their hands, duck their heads and begin to walk away.