Boys of Brayshaw High Page 87
I try to clear my throat but fail. I look to Bass who frowns at the two of us.
“Come back in the morning. You’ll come in and we’ll talk.”
“Breaking all the fucking rules, huh, RaeRae?” Royce glares at Bass.
I don’t say anything as I walk away and head upstairs, and what do you know, three sets of feet follow me all the way to my room.
I ignore them as I move around slowly, grabbing fresh clothes.
“Raven.”
“Just stop. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” Maddoc booms and I jolt, the sound making my head pound more. “You—”
I spin around. “I got jumped! Big. Fucking. Deal. It happens. Often where I’m from actually.”
“It doesn’t happen here,” he growls, his chest heaving. “And it will not happen to you.”
“My mom’s done worse, big man. I can handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to!”
“I don’t live in a world like yours. I come from a different fucking place. There is no such thing as enough precautions where I live. You’re never fully prepared. There are possibilities and then there’s reality. Reality, is always worse. This.” I point to my face. “Is what happens in my world. Just because you say you put some sort of protective shield around me doesn’t mean it fits. Stop trying to pretend I blend. I don’t! Your world or mine, it means nothing! I’m still me!”
“None of this would have happened if you wouldn’t have taken off tonight!”
“Maybe not today, but probably the next!” I shout back. “When someone wants you jumped, they catch you anywhere.”
“That’s not the fucking point!”
“Then what is?!” I scream.
“They could have hurt you for real!”
“Who cares!”
“I do,” Maddoc shouts right as the other two say, “We do.”
“I...” I trail off, having no clue what to say.
My chest constricts, the pain in my ribs and the pain coming from somewhere completely different make it hard to breath.
Maddoc creeps closer to me, the veins in his neck throbbing against his skin. “Next time you pull—”
A bitter laugh escapes me and he clamps his mouth shut.
For a second there I thought maybe there was more going on here, but he just needed a minute to get to the threat.
There’s always a threat to follow.
“You’ll what, huh? Ruin me. Break me. Because been there, done that. The worst you could do is kill me, and even that will be a cakewalk compared to the shit I’ve lived. You wanna be pissed, fine. Wanna act out for things not going your way. Cool. But don’t pretend to give a shit about what happens to me when the real concern is your pretty little plan and the kinks I’ll cause in it. You fucking brought me here. Don’t forget that.”
Maddoc’s murderous glare burns through my skin, but I don’t falter. I stand like I’m strong when really I need to hit the warm shower to wash away self-hate.
He looks over his shoulder at his brothers, both standing nice and quiet like good fucking boys – too bad I know their silence is worse than words.
He doesn’t say anything yet still both leave the room.
Maddoc slowly makes his way toward me and I steel my spine, but he sees it, feels it even, the fight leaving me. My need for him that I refuse to voice right now but want just the same. Somehow he knows it, though.
He grabs my fingers gently, like he’s afraid they may be hurt too and pulls me toward the shower in his room. He closes and locks the door, moving to get the water going.
He undresses then helps me do the same. Dropping to his knees, he kisses my stomach lightly as he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down until I can step out.
He stands, running the back of his fingers over my cheek. He nods his head, motioning for me to go first, so I do.
I step into the shower, wincing as the warm water first hits the cuts on my face. I still haven’t looked in the mirror, but I never do until after the dirt is gone. I don’t like to see who I am staring back.
At least the cuts and bruises feel like part of the process, a few steps closer to freedom. It’s the steps before them I like to pretend don’t exist. The fighting, the attacks, the abuse.
One way or another, my skin is marked negatively at the hands of others. The saddest part is nine times out of ten it’s my own doing. A snide remark to my mom or decision I know she’ll rage from. A fight I took or a shortcut home through claimed territory.
A solo trip to the warehouses...
Truth is, my world is a little more like the boys’ than I admit.
They have separate schools, separate social systems and family standings that need to be followed, and I have a town divided into sides – North Side and South Side. You’re born into one, loyal to no others.
Unless you’re me, born to the whore in Gateway Trailer Park, the only area on the outside of the clearly drawn lines – who doesn’t play by the rules and services both sides, knowing her problems roll over into mine.
She fucks someone over, they come looking for me, knowing I’ll deliver. They probably think I do it for her, but I don’t. I do it to keep peace for me, so that I’m still alive when I finally get to run.
I stopped caring what happened to her years ago. My main goal in life is to be somewhere she won’t be able to find me, and not in some fucking system where a paper trail will lead her sorry ass my way should she try.
The door opens and Maddoc slips inside, and it’s not until his hand slowly and gently finds my hips that I take a deep breath. Not until he steps against me, molding my back to his chest, that my muscles relax.
Not until his lips meet my neck that it hits. His touch, it’s soothing in the worst way.
The needy way.
The stupid girl way.
The kind that makes me want to keep his hands on me, and not just tonight.
His grip to my chin is a soft demand as he directs my eyes up so I can meet his over my shoulder. His gaze roams my face, his fingers following the trail they take.
I close mine, allowing him to inspect the damage, somehow knowing it’s something he needs to do to calm himself.
“Raven...” My name leaves him as a distressed whisper and I open my eyes, locking onto his.
I should kick him out, cut the cord quick. Nothing good could come of this.
Instead, I slide my fingers into his hair and pull his lips to mine.
His fingers glide down my hip bone until he’s cupping me.
When his fingers start to swirl, I drop my head against his shoulder, and his lips move to skim over my skin. “I need to make you feel good,” he whispers against my throat. “Let me.”
A shiver runs through me despite the warm water running over my body.
He glides the palm of his hand over my chest and just like he wanted, my nipples rise to attention, begging for his mouth to close around them, and he doesn’t disappoint.
Still half behind me, he bends forward, flicking his tongue across the sensitive flesh until I’m panting against him, then his mouth comes down, his tongue swirling around before he sucks and moves to do the same to the next.
The hand on my pussy slides lower, and right when his middle finger slips inside me, his free hand comes up to pinch my nipple.