Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)(89)

My jaw muscles tighten, and I glance around once more.

There’s a flashlight on the nightstand, see-through purple curtains draped over the window, the sun shining through them perfectly. I slip my fingers through the sheer material, running them across the windowsill – it’s lower than the one in the room upstairs. My fingers pause when they meet a groove in the wood and I step closer.

I need some R and R, is carved directly into the white paint.

My eyes pull in when I notice the grading at the edge of it, and I slip my knife from my pocket, flicking it open.

I run my fingers over the middle of the blade, then look to the window again.

My eyes snap to Rolland, who smiles meekly.

My mind takes me back to the night he gave it to me, and the careful words spoken.

“The words inscribed are true. You don’t have to accept your life just because you were born into it. Family is a choice, Raven. Not a burden of birth. It’s up to you to find the feeling and remember, never settle for less than what you want.”

With a frown in place, I plant my feet directly in front of his.

Never settle.

He wanted me to fight back?

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask about that day in my trailer. To ask how he knows all these little things about me, about the knife, and the room, and the meaning of the words my mom carved here, but I don’t.

For the first time he reads me right, that or I dropped the shield enough for him to see. He offers a tight nod. “You’re welcome, Raven. It is the very least I could do.”

With that, he walks away, and I stand there a moment, thankful for the first time, for the fucked-up path that led me right here.



When I step from the shower, Victoria is perched at the head of my bed, glaring across the room. I step farther in, finding Chloe hanging dress after dress across some sort of changing contraption, something you see in the small Chinese restaurants in Stockton – a three-piece wood-like shield of sort that the owner’s kids would hang out behind.

Chloe’s eyes snap to mine, lighting up. She claps. “Okay, show me my canvas.”

My hand pulls back and I look to Victoria who rolls her eyes, popping a grape in her mouth. “She wants you to strip down for her.”

“You’re lucky I took underwear and a bra in there with me.” I toss the towel on the bed and she shrieks, rushing to pick it up.

She glares at me. “Do you have any idea how much a duvet like this costs?” She runs her pink painted nails across the bed.

“No, Chloe, I don’t, and you’re getting on my nerves already.” I cross my arms.

She ignores that, instead saying, “Think of how much you spent on all of your punk-chic, J-lo from the 90s clothes, or whatever you consider them—”

“Ghetto,” I offer with a grin. “You can say it.”

“And add the price of a Ford Focus to that.”

My wide eyes snap to Victoria’s right as she meets mine, and she freezes, looking from her boots to the blanket, or duvet as Chloe called it.

Slowly, she kicks them off, making me laugh, while Chloe makes a show of hanging my towel on a small hook just inside the bathroom door.

She spins back with an exasperated sigh, but as her eyes travel over me, they slowly lose their confident, queen bee gleam, and her lips flatten.

Victoria clears her throat and looks away, while Chloe’s stare snaps to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, shaking her head.

“For what? You didn’t cause any of this.” I hold my arms out, letting my hands smack against my thighs when they fall.

“If anyone touched me like that, Daddy would strangle them with his bare hands, and it keeps happening to you. How are they still alive?”

“You think they should run around killing everyone who touches me?”

“People come here for a reason, Raven. They disappear for less.”

“People also do stupid things for stupid reasons.” I shrug, walking toward one of the dresses that catches my eye. I reach out, running my hands over the black rhinestone material trailing the bottom. “Most of them are driven by something else, rarely is it ever a solo thought people run on.”

“And that permits harm without retaliation?” she quips.

“No.” I shake my head, tugging the dress from its hanger, ignoring the gasp from Chloe when I do so. I fold it over my arms and turn to her. “But where there’re questions to be asked, there’re answers to be found.”

Her brows lift, and she scrunches her lips. “I don’t get it.”

“Vienna wanted security, who offered it to her? Leo wanted to feel important in a world where he was nothing, who was going to give it to him? My mother wanted revenge, who hurt her so bad she felt she needed it? Collins was searching for his identity, who stole it from him? A girl was sold to a pedophile, by who?”

Chloe’s temples crinkle as she lowers herself onto my bed.

“A rich, mean girl who took pleasure in making people feel worthless and small changes her tune, why?”

Chloe’s shoulders settle as a smile takes over her lips. She shakes her head, and it only widens, her perfect teeth gleaming at me. She glances to Victoria, who stares at me with reverent eyes, and Chloe’s fly back to mine.

“Man.” She looks me up and down, leaning forward. “I never stood a chance against you. This town won’t know what hit them.”