“That fight rumor that was going ‘round about a fight?” he leads. “It happened.”

My blood instantly heats.

“Who?” Maddoc asks.

“Coach Von.”

We look to each other. “For real?”

“Yup. He got his ass whooped and whooped good, couple of his players found him in the dugout on the baseball field. The new scoreboard was busted too, but that was off camera. I’ll send the pictures now, it was clearly a fucking bat and there’s busted up Mickey’s bottles out here too. Even a fucking lime.”

“Damn, bro.”

“That’s not all...” He trails off.

“Come on, Mac.” Captain glares.

“He says he don’t know who it was, that he didn’t see him coming, but I already pulled it up and watched it on camera.”

Raven frowns. “He lied.”

“You can’t see the guy’s face, but you can see them argue for a minute before he gets his ass handed to him.”

“So not only did he see the person, he knows them. Why lie?”

He sighs. “Don’t know yet.”

“There’s a reason.” Victoria begins pacing and we all look to her.

The thing about Victoria is she’s a little secret seeker, sees what others don’t, finishes the puzzle when she’s only got half the pieces... most of the time.

Mac adds, “Yeah, like there’s a reason Coach Von didn’t fight back.”

Our eyes fly between one another.

“Not even a single hit?”

“Nope.”

“Motherfucker.”

Maddoc’s jaw tightens. “He knew we’d find out and go looking.”

“And we’d pause on the first person with a mark on him. Whoever it was has something on the guy.”

“Fuck,” Mac hisses.

Tension tightens my chest. “What is it?”

“The equipment container lock was cut. Looks like some shit’s missing, but I need to get the lights on to be sure.”

“Someone’s fuckin’ bold.”

“Almost too bold,” Victoria wonders out loud, looking to us. “They went after the coach, the scoreboard, and the gear? He says he doesn’t know who it was, but didn’t fight back and someone was careful enough not to be in view of the camera but left beer bottles behind?”

“We’re missing something...”

She nods. “If it was a bat that was used on the board, but not on the coach, then we need to start with someone on the team. Starting pitcher or star hitter maybe?”

Maddoc nods. “Lucky for us, it happens to be the same fucking person.”

Raven leans back. “Scope him tomorrow, invite him to party tomorrow night.”

Everyone nods and there we are.

We’ll bring the mouse to the mouse hunt.

Chapter 10

Royce

Micah makes it up the steps of the girls home right as a group of them push out of the door. They pause at the sight of him, but he’s not used to these kinds of girls. They don’t smile and gawk at the good-looking fucker, they shoulder right past him and down the road they go.

Raven and Victoria laugh at the offended look on his face, but we just shake our heads.

He’ll learn quick enough.

They’ll be plenty of the trust fund girls at the school who will fall at the sight of him, but it won’t be these ones.

Last night, Mac let us know when Micah got in, so me, my brothers, and the girls came down to meet him while giving him his first task.

A plan I’m about to cancel when the girl is the last one to make it out of the house and her smile goes straight to Micah, it’s tight-lipped, but it’s there. When he leans in to give her a hug, she accepts, a familiar manila folder hanging from her hand—her Brayshaw High paperwork.

I shift in my seat, watching. Annoyed with how I feel so damn annoyed.

And of what?

Fuck if I know!

Raven leans over as much as her belly allows, resting her forearms on the dash. “That girl is Bass Bishop’s little sister?”

Maybell’s well-played words of wisdom come back.

Expectations are for fools, and you are far from one of those.

“Not what you’d expect?”

In my peripheral, Raven shakes her head. “Far from it. I guess I pictured someone tall and rogue model-like, like him.”

That gives me something fun to focus on, and I look to Maddoc with a grin, waiting for his reaction but all he gives is an exhaled rumble, making his woman laugh.

“Man, I’d kill for an ass like that,” Victoria muses, dragging my attention back to Brielle.

“Same,” Raven agrees. “How’s it so... full?”

My head snaps back to the porch as the two climb down the stairs, his hand at the base of her back, as if she needs to be led.

She doesn’t.

An unexpected urge to knock Micah off the steps follows, but I push that shit back, letting irritation take its place.

I must growl out loud as Raven turns to me.

She grins. “You doin’ okay back there, Ponyboy?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Ass is your jam.”

The girl was wearing a school uniform fit for a forty-year-old every time I saw her, minus yesterday when she wore a pair of baggy sweats and T-shirt—road trip, comfort clothes—but like Raven pointed out, I can spot a nice ass from a mile away, find that shit under any kind of material known to man, thick or thin. So, like I said. I saw it.

Gotta admit, she’s got more than I realized.

Hips too.

Not that I care.

With each step Brielle takes, her smile spreads wider.

“Look at her.” Captain watches her. “She’s not even nervous.”

“She’s the last thing from nervous. Excited, maybe even content.” Victoria tips her head to follow her as she passes the front of the SUV and keeps toward Mac’s that sits at the edge of the curb, waiting for them.

“Told you. Off.”

“Does this girl know anything about us, man, or is she coming in blind?” Cap glances my way briefly.

“Guess we’ll see.”

“Poor girl.” Raven sits back. “She has no idea what she’s in for.”

Not a fucking clue.

The laughter and chatter die down as we head for the school.

We’ve got a mess to clean, and today is setup day.

Brielle

Last night, after Mac and Micah got all of my bags put in my room, Mac took us for a late-night burger to fill us in on their newest issue and go over some things he said we needed to know—things that are expected and what’ll get us a one-way ticket underground.

Okay, so he didn’t use that term, but I think it’s fitting.

People here, they do disappear, but nobody talks about that.

Just like we’re not to talk about anything that’s shared with us, we take part in, see, discover, or even fail at. Basically, we’re like the CIA, but really not at all, more like rogue rebels.

Or they are. Not me.

I’m ‘whatever Royce tells me to be’—words Mac awkwardly delivered on behalf of his BFF.