Boys of Brayshaw High Page 50

“Is this about my taking off this past weekend?” Or the journal I stole ... “We didn’t exactly talk—”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. You were here all weekend.” She hits me with a stern expression.

I nod against my pillow. “Right.”

“You know,” she starts. “Lots of girls come on through here. Some stay until eighteen, most take off beforehand, and of course ... some get the boot in they bratty asses.”

I laugh lightly, moving to sit up.

She’s going somewhere with this.

“They like you.”

Neither of us pretends “they” need to be named.

“They hardly know me.”

“But they want to, I can see it. You know, never once did those boys pull a girl who came from here into their world.”

“No offense, but I don’t believe that.”

She scoffs. “Oh, Royce may have a few missed curfews here and there. That boy doesn’t need to know or like a thing about ‘em to, well, you know.” She shakes her head, but not in judgment.

“You love them,” I observe.

“I raised them.”

So that part of the rumor is true.

She tips her head back with a light laugh. “Well, I raised them as much as they let me. Their dad was good to them when he was around, but he was gone more often than not and eventually, they were old enough to be angry over it. The kind of anger a parent can cause never really goes away, it grows like mold from the inside, testing to see if we’re strong enough to clean it out. But they still love him despite his faults.”

“No offense, Maybell, but why are you telling me this?”

“I can’t say.” Her face tightens, the truth of her words causing her concern. She stands. “Might have something to do with the person waiting outside for ya. Call it, intuition.”

She moves to the door and turns back to me.

“I see something in you, Raven. Something I’m not sure you see yourself. Don’t let ... just, trust your gut, child. Trust ... what you know. The rest will come in time.”

She doesn’t wait for a response but leaves the room, and I’m left real fucking confused as to what she’s getting at.

I slip my feet in my boots, taking my time as I lace them up and pull a hoodie over my head.

I’m sure Royce will have a lighter.

I walk out the front door and hop off the side of the porch.

“Well.”

Lead fills my veins in an instant and I stop dead in my tracks.

No.

I slowly turn toward street.

Glacier blue eyes rake over me with pure disdain. “Never seen that smile from you before. Sure faded fast.” Her glossy eyes meet mine. “Don’t look so happy to see me.”

“I’m not.”

I glance to the porch when the door opens and Maybell steps out, pretending she needed to pull from the mailbox right then. Her eyes briefly skate past mine before landing on my mother. Her features tighten and she pauses a moment, but then walks back in.

I turn back.

My mom’s eyes are stuck on the Bray house, but slowly shift to mine when I move closer to the curb.

She leans against a blue Toyota that must be older than me. I try to glance past to see the driver, but she blocks my view.

I let my eyes travel over her and hate how good the universe was to a piece of shit like her.

Long, perfectly shaped legs, wide hips with a trim waist, and a rack many women pay thousands for, all given to the one who gives it away for a fee.

Her skirt just covers her upper thighs, her underwear string pulled up over her hips and her top is more a thick headband around her chest than a shirt. ‘Course, it’s white and her bra is a deep silky purple. Her hair, long and dark is curled and piled on her head. Perfectly placed. Her makeup too.

She’s ridiculously attractive and she knows it.

Gorgeous on the outside, corroded on the inside.

She’s a nasty bitch in a deceiving packaging.

She wrenches her nose up at my hoodie, sweatpants, and boots.

I don’t match, I look like a hobo, and I don’t give a damn. I don’t live to impress like she does.

Something she could never understand.

“Just because you’re staying in a house with a bunch of girls, doesn’t mean you need to dress like a lesbian.”

“Just because you’re a broke, judgmental bitch, doesn’t mean you need to dress like a slut.” I give a fake laugh. “Oh wait, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Watch your mouth, Raven.”

“Why you here?”

“Why else?” She looks to her nails, blowing a bubble with her gum.

“Who do you owe?”

“Rol’s guys.”

I scoff and her eyes fly back to mine. “What, they won’t take other means of payments anymore?”

They way her lip curls, it’s a clear no. “I need a couple thousand by Sunday night.”

I start laughing and she pushes off the car. “Fuck you. Hell no.”

“I said watch your mouth.” She steps forward with a sneer.

So do I.

“Or what, mother? What are you gonna do, huh? You gonna have your new pimp or whatever he is whoop my ass right here on the street where anyone could see? We both know, you no longer can.”

“Don’t sound so sure.”

“Prove me wrong.”

She grips my elbows, her long cokehead nails sinking into my skin, and she yanks me toward her right as I shove off her chest.

The move sends me stumbling back and has her flying against the car.

She pushes off right as I get my footing and we both dart forward, but before I can grab a hold of her and before her swing makes it all the way around, arms wrap around my waist and I’m lifted off my feet and she’s blocked, her fist caught mid-air.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck is ...” Royce trails off when Captain steps back and he gets a look at my mom.

My muscles lock, Captain’s eyes are on her too.

No. No no, shit no. For so many reasons.

I force myself to glance up at Maddoc. His jaw’s locked tight above my head, I can only guess he’s staring too.

“Uh...” Royce starts again, his eyes slowly moving to mine.

I jerk in Maddoc’s hold and he lets go, but his body stays close.

I look to my mom.

Her eyes flare, in that sickening way they do. Hunger, for both money and more, has her skin flushing. She’s one of the sick ones who actually enjoys her “work.”

Her tongue comes out, slowly sliding across her lips with purpose and I groan.

“Give me a fucking break.”

Her stare snaps back to mine and hardens before she can brush it away, but the boys are perceptive. Not as perceptive as her it seems, because she doesn’t notice the half a foot closer they get – to me.

“Raven. Introduce me to your ... friends.”

“They’re not my friends.”

Maddoc’s muscles tighten behind me and in my peripheral, I see Royce’s head snap my way.

“Introduce me anyway.”

“No.”

She pries her eyes from Captain. “I come to see you and you act like this?” Her eyes float left as she deliberately bends her knee, letting her underwear show at the edge of her tiny skirt. “I missed you—”