The boys back up a few steps until a solid line is formed in front of the others.

Outnumbered by a handful and still, they’re dominant. Looked up at.

Feared.

I push off the ground, not bothering to dust the dirt off myself.

I step toward Collins who fights for a solid breath and Maddoc snatches my wrist, his lip curling up as he gets in my face.

“He just put his hands on me,” I hiss.

I jerk my hand and at first there’s resistance, but then his frown deepens and he loosens his grip enough for me to yank free.

Royce jolts toward me, attempting to grab me just the same, but I dodge him with a glare.

I step to Collins and when he looks up at me, I lift my foot and plant it in the center of his chest, knocking his ass back down to the ground while he’s still feeling weak.

I drop down slowly, so my knee can take my foot’s place and Maddoc takes a step closer.

My eyes bounce between Collins, my neck heating in anger the longer I stare.

“You little rich prick with a hard on, how fucking dare you,” I breathe, anger vibrating against my ribs. “I tell you to step back and you grab me, forcing your lips on me instead? That how you like to play?” I lift my other foot off the ground, forcing all my weight onto his sternum. “What you’re feeling right now is nothing compared to what you will if you put your hands on me again.”

He spits to the side, asking a question of his own. “Thought you said you weren’t a Bray girl?”

“I’m not.”

All three boys fire off at the same time.

“The fuck you aren’t!”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

I turn my scowl to them, ignoring the bitter laugh that leaves Collins.

“I’m—” I start to argue, but Maddoc cuts me off.

“Later.”

Right then, Collins’ hand darts up, ready to grab ahold of me, but before he can, Maddoc is stepping down on his wrist, his shooting hand – basketball player and all – and his eyes go wide.

I don’t get to talk shit back, though, because in the same second, Royce’s hand clamps over my mouth and I’m lifted, his arm around my waist as he carries me off ... like a damn child.

He tosses me in the back of someone’s Jeep. He waits until they skirt off before he lets go and when he does, he shoves away from me.

With a jerky movement and a pissy attitude, he faces forward, not saying a damn word to me the short drive back.

The second the Jeep skids to a stop I leap out over the side, Royce on my heels, and not a second later more dirt flies in the air as a second Jeep pulls to a stop and two more large bodies rush forward.

I run into the house, quickly spinning to shove the door closed and lock it.

Royce smacks the frame with a growl and dashes to the right, Maddoc to the left and Captain stays right outside the front.

I run up the stairs, rushing for the back door, but Royce is already there shoving it open when I hit the top of the stairs, so I run back down, making a dash for the room they put me in, but skid to a stop when I find Maddoc at the bottom of the stairs.

He clicks the lock without taking his eyes off me and Captain steps inside with his chin lifted.

Right then, Royce’s chest hits my back and I jump.

“Nowhere to go now, RaeRae.”

“Fuck off,” I hiss, but I lift my head and stare down the two making their way up the steps.

“Start talking, Raven.”

“About?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Don’t be a little bitch. Ask what you wanna know.”

Captain’s brows jump slightly, but Maddoc’s only narrow more. He looks over my shoulder at Royce.

Royce shifts behind me so I snap, “Put your hands on me right now, Royce, and get your balls bruised.”

Maddoc’s jaw clenches and he growls, stepping closer, but I don’t back down or cower, and after what feels like forever, he backs up, spins around and storms out of the cabin. Captain follows.

“We ... brought you here,” Royce trials off so I turn to face him. I’d swear I see worry in his eyes if I didn’t know any better. “Don’t make us regret it, Rae.”

Rae.

Not Raven.

Not RaeRae.

Rae.

He walks out and suddenly I’m disappointed. But it makes no sense, because the acid on my tongue was poured by my own damn self and a direct hit, right at me.

And it pisses me off.

How could these boys bring me from fuming at them to mad at myself, and two of them with nothing but a look? And I don’t even like that stupid nickname!

I drop my back against the wall and close my eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I allow myself a few rare seconds of uncertainty, and then I force all thoughts from my head and when my eyes open, I’m good. Ready to party.

I’m getting fucked up.

They’re fucked up.

Each fucking one, completely fucking wasted.

Royce has some brunette chick on his lap and another standing at his back, running her hands down his chest over his shirt while his tongue plays connect the dots with the freckles on the lap girl’s chest.

Captain has the bride of Chuckie chick grinding against his dick as they dance under the stupid Christmas lights – he glares my way every few minutes like his fucking with her is somehow sticking it to me. He’ll sure as shit be sticking it to her later.

Good for her, I guess. And he deserves all her crazy after if he wants to act like a dumbass.

And Maddoc. He hasn’t glanced my way once.

Not that I’ve been waiting but still. Hasn’t happened yet.

He’s busy, though.

I haven’t seen Chloe yet, but that is one of her minions with her paws all over him.

He drops on the edge of a wooden picnic table and she stands between his legs, her hand down his pants right there for anyone to see.

Sure, they’re tucked away a little, a dark shadow cast over their table, but there are still people all around. At least fifty or sixty more than last night are scattered all around between the dozen or so cabins.

“Trade?”

I look over and Leo who collects my empty bottle, popping the top of a new one with his lighter.

“Thanks.”

“Yup.”

When he stands there and stares, I drop my legs from the chair. “What?”

“Boys are pissed.”

“When are they not?”

He grabs a chair and drags it over, sitting in front of me.

“That was stupid, you going to the Graven side.”

“I’d have had to have known there was a Graven side to know to stay away from it, right?”

He nods. “Right. But let’s say you did. Would you have stayed away from it?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Yet here you are, an opinion sitting on the edge of your tongue.”

He glares. “Fair enough.”

I scoff, glancing away but look back. “If schools don’t mix, why the hell are they here?”

“Nobody was willing to give this place up.”

“What do you mean?”

“A good forty or fifty years back, Brayshaw was the only high school in this town. All the families were tight, so they started buying these cabins. Eventually it became the party place for the kids – just another place for rich kids to run off to. But when the town divided, they built Graven Prep. Pulled half the students over there, which meant down the line –”