Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)(68)

“Cap.”

He takes a second, then lifts his eyes to mine.

“What is it?”

“Huh? Oh.” He drops it between his legs, looking over the next. “Just an old hospital visit of my dad’s. My ... biological dad.” As he says it, his frown deepens even more, but he wipes it away and looks back to us.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “It’s just this is everything. Staff records, bank accounts, contracts, deeds to the docks and Brayshaw blacklists. Affidavits, copy of the Brayshaw will, our adoption papers, even a list of all the other families’ names and locations.”

“Okay...” I prompt him to continue.

“What if everything around his arrest and trial aren’t the only things he hid?”

“Perkins,” Royce guesses.

Cap nods, looking to him. “He’s in the fucking picture in the yearbook, but his name is nowhere in it, and then nothing else. It’s odd. Why is he nowhere in any of this, but then in one forgotten and maybe accidental photo, and now the principal at our fucking school. That was decided by Dad. He knew he was in our business before then. He was a teacher at our elementary school. He’s always fucking around. Why has he not been sent away? Or at least, why is there no paper trail to him?”

I bend forward picking up the yearbook and turning to the page they had folded over. A young Rolland stands there, right beside Perkins with both Cap and Royce’s dad and another man, all their arms tethered around each other’s necks.

“We need to ask Dad about this,” Royce says before leaning over to point out their fathers, and I grin.

“You look just like your dad.” I laugh, trailing my fingers over the man’s dark and daring eyes. He even has Royce’s playful smirk.

“I’m way better looking than him,” he teases, winking when I glance his way.

He tries to hide it, but there’s a tinge of dejection in his eyes.

“And the last guy?” I ask, focusing back on the image. My eyes travel over the blond in the blue blazer and crisp white button-up.

“Don’t know,” Royce says.

I read the headline beneath it. “Says Brayshaw High’s Finest and Faculty. Could he be a teacher?”

“He doesn’t look much older, RaeRae.”

I nod, frowning. “Yeah.”

Royce pushes to stand. “I’m going downstairs to see what’s up with dinner.”

He offers me a hand, but I shake my head.

“You avoiding him?” He raises a brow, but worry pulls at his eyes.

It’s sad how stressed he gets when he thinks there’s an issue between any of us. It’s kind of like how he hated riding in the back, alone. He needs his family to be solid.

“I’m not avoiding him. He just happens to be down there and I’m up here.”

He eyes me. “Right.”

After he walks out and down the hall, I look back to the photo. There’s something familiar about the nameless man, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Raven, you know Maddoc didn’t purposefully hide shit from you, right?”

I shrug, flipping through some more pages. “He has every right to, Cap. Nobody ever said you guys had to spill your secrets. It’s whatever.”

Cap bends in front of me, pulling the yearbook from my hands, and I look up.

“I’m serious, and it’s not whatever if it made you feel put out. When we broke in and took the birth certificate, you weren’t living with us yet, we were all still getting to know each other, so it wasn’t something we were ready to share. Maddoc’s not the type to stop and think later about filling you in on missing pieces.”

“I know what type he is.” My eyes bounce between his. “You don’t need to level things out for him.”

“I want to make sure he doesn’t fuck this up. You say this is new to you and you don’t know how to do this, well it’s new for him too, and neither does he. He’s not always gonna say the right thing, and he’ll probably forever make the wrong move first.” I laugh lightly and he grins, but his eyes hold a gentle seriousness. “You have to know he will always feel the kick in his gut when he disappoints you, even when he doesn’t show it.”

My chest grows warm and I look away a second before meeting his gaze. “Yeah, and how do you know that?” I tease with an easy grin.

He watches me. “Because I feel it, and you’re not mine.”

Cap stands, and my eyes follow.

I take the hand he offers and let him pull me up.

“I told you,” he whispers, squeezing my palm. “You’re good for us.”

The truth to his words stares back through those light eyes of his.

“It’s real inconvenient, you know,” I tell him.

“What is?”

“Caring,” I whisper. “I’m not really a fan.”

He laughs lightly, and I fight a smile.

“Food’s ready.”

I turn to find Maddoc standing in the hall just outside the door, hands in his jogger pockets.

I nod, let go of Cap’s hand and we both slide past Maddoc, but he gently grips my elbow, holding me back.

His eyes tighten as he searches mine, and he sighs, dropping back against the wall. He pulls me closer and I willingly lean into him.