A fourth car skids up beside us, and in my peripheral, I watch as the door is thrown open, a fifth person stepping out.

And then heated breaths meet my skin, just over my collarbone, and the devilishly delivered words whispered send a shiver down my spine. “Welcome to Brayshaw.”

Holy.

Shit.

I’m not sure how long I stare into the chocolate eyes before me, but then his lips lift, and right as the shapes around me regain their clarity.

My eyes fly from one figure to the other like a pinball, waiting to see more of each one, but at the same time, eager to see more from the next.

The infamous Brayshaw boys, and the rest of their family stare straight at me, a different expression on each of their faces, but I do my best to focus on one at a time

The boys, they’re so easy to tell apart, each with distinct features of their own.

Maddoc, who stands there with a blank face, has thick, dark hair, and caramel-colored skin which gives him away instantly. He’s every bit of a living Greek god. An angry, eerily emotionless one. From what I’ve gathered, he’s the one to watch. Not the leader, as they’re all thought of as equal, but there’s something about him that merits extra caution and meticulous care.

Captain stands beside him and offers a slight tip of his chin and a small smile. He’s as tall as Royce and Maddoc, but with wider shoulders, creamier colored skin, and blond hair—the most obvious contrast of his adoptive siblings. He’s got that all-American vibe going, but to be blinded by first glance is to miss the confidence in his wide stance, the tension in his shoulders—he’s pretty, but perilous.

A gorgeous girl with golden hair that meets her hips has her elbow propped on Captain’s shoulder, but I’m not sure who she is.

His BrayGirl, maybe?

A quick laugh comes from the left and my head jerks that way.

My breath lodges in my throat as my eyes land on Raven Carver.

Or I should say Raven Brayshaw.

Long, dark hair, ink black and shining, she tips her head with a grin.

The heir to the entire Brayshaw empire who nobody even knew existed until she showed up on the doorstep of the very group home I now live in, if what I’ve learned is true.

A product of rape in a war between the founding families of this town, raised by a vile mother, a whore in true form, every bit a trailer trash disaster, and abused as a young girl.

Yet here she stands.

Strong.

Bold.

Inspiring.

Very, very pregnant.

“That.” She jerks her head. “Is Victoria, and my sister. And yes, Cap’s BrayGirl.”

“Bitch.” Victoria draws my attention with a smile. “I’m his now, tomorrow, always... and you.” She nods with a smirk, her eyes falling to the crowbar in Royce’s hand, slowly coming back to mine. “Are off to a good start.”

Royce’s eyes fall to my top and he frowns. “You good?”

I look down with a nod. “Yeah, it’s... I’m fine.” It stings, but only a little now.

“Good.” He looks to Micah as he steps up to us. “Never cross this bridge. Graven Prep is on this side, and we don’t fuck with them. They’re on their own and as long as they keep staying out of our way, we’ll leave them that way.” He turns to Micah again. “You didn’t really think we’d let you drive around in a beast like ours, did you?”

“Well, I definitely didn’t think you’d trash a perfectly badass ride, either.” Micah chuckles.

“That’s fair.” Royce grins, tosses him a set of keys and slowly they back away, climb into their ride and off they go. Just like that.

Me?

I remain frozen in the seat they left me in.

The pressure surrounding my eyes is long gone, but it now sits heavy against my chest as a sense of pride blooms within it.

I trail the black SUV as it pulls away, carrying the family who earned my brother’s loyalty as he did theirs, the teenagers who live like grown-ass men in a world like no other, full of chaos and crookedness and... freedom.

The family Bass came to believe in and gave his all to in hopes of earning me a place beside him.

Yes, they took my brother from me without pause or consideration of the girl they were leaving behind, or more, casting out alone, but I can’t say I don’t understand why or that I’m angry over it.

Does it sting?

Of course it does. My brother was the only person in my world I could depend on. We were only safe, away from the home we were born and raised in for less than twenty-four hours when they came for him, and not twenty-four after that I was on my way to my aunt’s, without him.

Like I said, though, I understand, and as much as it has sucked to be without him, I’m grateful for them and what they gave him. If anyone deserved a chance in a world that meant something, it was him. I was okay knowing he was okay.

I can only hope I don’t make a fool of him now that I have a chance to join him.

I won’t.

Chapter 11

Royce

“Whatcha lookin’ for, Ponyboy?”

“A way to tell Maddoc it’s my kid you’re carryin’.”

Raven laughs while I duck to avoid Maddoc’s open palm.

“For real, what’s up?” She leans back in her chair, her hands on her big-ass belly.

I reach out, putting my hand beside hers, my eyes still scanning the room. “She ain’t in here, I’m wondering if she’s curled in a corner somewhere.”

Raven tips her head. “You want her to be?”

I look back to her with a brow raised. “If I wanted her to be, she would be.”

Victoria shrugs. “People have no reason to be threatened by her, so she should be fine.”

“Exactly.” Raven nods. “She’s just a girl from the group home... until you make her something different.”

“Which will happen never.” I glare.

Raven smirks. “Uh-huh.”

“Check it out.” Captain gains our attention.

Enoch Cameron, Brayshaw High’s star pitcher, sits wide legged at a table near the back exit, chatting up Giana Fritz, a chick from the tennis team.

He reaches out, flicking her hair near her shoulders, and she leans a little closer.

“Lay it on thick, fucker,” I muse. “Your girl’s only sittin’ a table over.”

We glance at Taylor Simms, the girl he’s had on his hip since freshman year.

“Right on time,” Maddoc speaks low, and the rest of us look toward the door.

Coach Von walks right through, cut lip, black eye and guaran-fucking-tee some fractured-ass ribs under his firm pressed dress shirt.

Victoria sits forward in her chair, studying their body language while we look for a sign that reads foul play.

What do you know, while Enoch doesn’t look his way, the fucker does sit up in his seat.

His eyes fly to Taylor, who shrinks in her chair, hiding her face behind her phone.

Neither of them look toward the coach.

Maddoc leans back. “It was him.”

“Yeah. We’re missing something.” Cap nods.

“They’re playin’ bitch boy games.”

“But is it me...” Victoria squints. “Or does Taylor look like she’s about to break down with waterworks any second now?”