“Enough,” Collins growls, and like a damn movie, all three Brayshaws step closer. “I hear your pops is asking for a parole hearing. Interesting timing, don’t you think?”
My brows draw in and I look to the boys, but Maddoc doesn’t even acknowledge he’s spoken.
“Tell me why you sent her, and I won’t break your point guard’s arm tonight,” Maddoc tells him, his voice unnervingly calm and focused.
“Fuck you,” the guy I’m assuming is just that, the point guard, spits.
I glance at the boys again.
Captain has somehow sneakily slipped a pair of brass knuckles over what I’m only now noticing are tatted fingers and Royce’s are balled into fists. I look back to Maddoc and while he gives nothing away to the naked eye, there’s an eerie air surrounding him. He’s too calm, too poised. He’s ready.
Fuck me, they’re about to throw down.
I look to the other side, the Graven side.
Most of the partygoers have backed up a few steps, but Collins’ numbers doubled in an instant, now a good dozen standing off against the tripod, as I’ve named them.
And then I see the girl step back and slightly to the side, slowly edging away from them ... but closer to me.
I cut a quick glance at Nira and the others who all start waving me toward them, none saying a word as they hide in the darkness of the yard, cowering away from the scene, but I turn back toward it.
They showed up here, three strong, expecting a fight knowing they’d be outnumbered.
I grin.
Silly boys, so cocky.
But the way I see it, the only way to get the upper hand is to have the element of surprise.
I slowly step forward, and before I’m even seen, I push the chick a few feet over, until I can fully shove her into the pool. Because why the fuck not, it was too easy not to.
Plus, seems she signed up to play the rat tonight. I’ve got no love for her kind.
A loud gasp leaves her as she emerges, and she spins to me ... along with every other head in the yard.
She shrieks, swiping her hair from her face as she pushes up on the side of the cement. “Who the hell are you?” she shouts.
The Brays’ eyes are on me, I see it in my peripheral, but I don’t look their way. It would defeat the whole purpose, as every other person is looking my way too, meaning their heads are turned away from the three looking for trouble.
I don’t acknowledge the girl, just laugh lightly as I back away, stepping into the darkness the shadow of the house provides.
I head for the girls waiting for me. The second I hit the fence line, there’s a loud crack followed by a deep grunt – the first punch thrown.
Then the screaming and shouts start as they brawl in the backyard.
We run and jump in Victoria’s man’s car and head back for the group home.
“Are you fucking insane?!” Victoria sits forward in her seat, spinning to glare at me. “You better hope they don’t figure out we were there with you or I swear to fucking God I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I cut her off, leaning forward just the same. “What are you gonna do?”
“You better watch it, Rae.” Her lip curls. “You can’t walk around here like you run shit. There’s an order you need to follow.”
“That’s your problem, Victoria. You want so bad to fit somewhere when you don’t. None of us do. Not in this world. We have to wait for our time, create our own fucking life after we let go of everything in the one we were forced into. Stop trying to blend in and maybe you won’t be such a stiff bitch.”
“Don’t pretend you know me, whore.”
Juvenile.
When I roll my eyes and plop back against the seat, she spins around in hers.
I look to Nira who’s frowning, then Vienna. Her eyes are narrowed, but she fights a grin.
I turn to look out of the tiny back side window.
Typical fucking night, I guess.
“Skank,” someone mumbles as they pass behind me and I slam my locker shut, spinning to see who it is this time, but there are too many people walking by to know for sure.
All fucking day this has been happening.
I mean, I’m used to it – comes with the territory when your mom’s been the thorn in more marriages than not.
But this is different.
These people seem to think I’ve become a plaything. Word around campus is I’m fucking their king. And his brothers.
Doesn’t help that every time one of them walks by, they say something along the lines of “be at my house earlier tonight” or “next time bring more than three condoms.”
I snap back, but it only heightens the flame.
I shoved the first few who started in this morning, but it quickly became every other person who passed, and I got tired of talking.
“You’re the first Bray girl without a trust fund.”
I lift my head to Vienna with a scowl. “I’m not a fucking ‘Bray’ anything.”
She laughs lightly. “Try telling the put out uptown girls that.”
I shake my head and look back to my paper.
“You know they’re all acting stupid because they’re jealous right?” she whispers, dropping into the free seat at my table.
We have study hall together – where those of us who need to make up credits spend our elective period.
“They’ve either fucked Royce and Captain and not Maddoc or vice versa and are pissed you’ve had all three. Or they haven’t had their shot yet and now you’re another body in the way of the prize.”
“Brothers known to share? Twisted shit.”
She leans it, scanning the room before speaking, “They’re not blood brothers. It’s not a secret or anything, but you didn’t hear that from me. And don’t even mention it. But that’s totally irrelevant right now.” She smiles, but little does she know she’s colored me curious. “So, Royce and Captain share. Maddoc doesn’t. He picks one and fucks them ‘til he’s bored or ditches them if they fuck someone else and then picks another.”
“So he keeps a girlfriend?”
She scoffs. “Uh, no. Not girlfriends. Just fuck buddies with rules. And never PDA. You only know ‘cause they trail him everywhere he goes or you’ll hear him tell her when and where, things like that. But again, he doesn’t pass his between the others while he’s indulging, and if they try to jump ship, they’re kicked to the curb by all three and basically hit nomad status. Nobody in the in crowd will get at ‘em after the Brays release them.”
“Pretty sure all that’s worse than if they were already known to share.”
“It is.”
“Well, I’m over this shit. It has to have something to do with the party Saturday.” I turn to look at her. “Which means they started the fucking rumor themselves.”
Her jaw drops open, her mouth morphing into a smile just as quick. “They want people to think you’re fucking them!”
“Ladies!” The teacher lowers her glasses down her face, glaring at the two of us. “Get to work.”
We glance at each other, both laughing lightly before turning back to our papers.
So, they want people to think I’m merry-go-rounding, fine. Like I said, nothing new – assholes claim they’ve screwed me all the time. Somehow, my turning down guys gives them a complex, like how dare I, the dirty girl I am, deny them. It always turns into a story of how easy it was to get me on my back.