Home > Boys of Brayshaw High(70)

Boys of Brayshaw High(70)
Author: Meagan Brandy

He drops his head back. “I wouldn’t need to beg. I’d push her to her knees, and she’d be lucky to put me in her mouth.”

A small hum leaves me, and I rest my weight against him, his hand coming around to keep me still. “I wasn’t talking about those lips, big man. I’m talking her pussy lips. You never begged to slide in a girl’s heat, never ‘bout died to feel her suck you in and squeeze to try and keep you here?”

He groans, and I’m quickly spun around, so my back is now to the wall.

“Like I said. No. Now you want me to take your clothes off for you or not?”

“No.”

His forehead pinches. “No?”

“No.”

“Royce said you needed help undressing.”

“I lied.”

“Why?”

“To get him to go away. He was giving me the look.”

Maddoc’s stare shifts between mine and he steps back. “What look?”

“You know, the open-eyed, flat-lipped look you guys got going on lately. Like you’re trying to figure me out. I don’t like it.”

“Maybe we just wanna know you.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Maybe you should get over that.” Maddoc frowns and moves into the hall. “Starting dinner in an hour.”

He gets a few feet away when I call his name.

He pops his head back in.

“Is Cap ... I don’t wanna come down if he’s got that beaten look on his face again.”

Maddoc licks his lips as he searches my eyes. He nods his head. “He’s good, Raven.”

When he walks away, I peel my clothes off my body and by the time I get into the shower, Maddoc was right. It’s cold as hell, so I quickly wash and get out, wrapping the towel around me as I run into my room.

I drop back on my mattress and stare at the ceiling a minute before grabbing a water bottle off the nightstand. I down it then pull myself up again.

I pull on a pair of black sweatpants, socks, and a random shirt and head for the kitchen, running my fingers through my hair as I do.

“Whatcha makin’?” I slink beside Maddoc and he scoots over for me to see the veggies he’s cut up.

He smacks my hand when I try to snag a piece of broccoli, so I snag a piece of bread instead – it’ll help with the alcohol better.

“Quick beef and broccoli.” He glances my way as he shifts for the sink to rinse his hands. “Wanna start the rice?”

My nose scrunches. “Uhh ... sure?”

He eyes me. “You don’t know how.”

“I mean, you got instant rice? I can pop it in the microwave like a champ.”

He leans back crossing his arms. “You know how to cook at all?”

I lift a shoulder, leaning back on the opposite side of the kitchen. “I’m sure I could if I read instructions, but can I slide in here and make magic? No.”

He nods and pulls a pot from under the counter. He hands me a measuring cup and tells me what to do. We get the rice rinsed, the water measured and I look back to him.

“So how do you know when it’s hot enough?”

“What?”

“The stove.”

He frowns at me. “Have you never cooked before?”

“Made pancakes at the Bray house, but Victoria helped me out, reluctantly. What I did isn’t really considered cooking, but I have made spaghetti a bunch of times.”

“And you don’t know how a stove works?”

“Never had one.”

His forehead pinches. “How’d you cook the meat?”

“We didn’t use meat. Cost too much. We could go to the ninety-nine- cents store and get a pack of noodles and a can of sauce for two bucks. That was like three meals for us if it was only us two. Four or five if I was home alone.”

He drops his stare to the counter and turns back to the food.

“We had a hot plate for a while. My mom would make things if she got a hair up her ass, which was maybe once a month if that. She usually ate out with her clients, though, so I’d heat up a hot dog or soup or something.”

“She’d go out to a restaurant and leave you there with nothing?”

“It’s not a big deal. It was normal where I lived, other kids were running around late, scrounging just like me.”

He frowns. “Have you lived in the same place all your life?”

I jump up on the counter. “Yep. Same trailer since I was born. Out of all my mother’s fuck ups, she at least did that right. We didn’t always have food or hot water, electricity was off a lot, but she never did lose the place.” I scoff as I think about it. “Probably ‘cause then she’d have to spend some of her payment on a hotel room like most the other girls she ran tricks with, but no, she liked to pocket as much as she could.”

Maddoc drops the knife in the sink with force, spinning to glare at me. “She’d fuck around with you there?”

Almost every single night.

I lift a shoulder.

“Raven.”

I shake my head and look over at him, finding he has a death grip on the counter. “It’s life, big man.”

He gets in my face, misplaced anger staring back at me. “That’s not life. That’s a piece of shit person putting her daughter in danger.”

I eye him and the longer I do, the more his worry seeps through.

He jerks away when my hand lifts and goes back to the job at hand.

“Check your rice, Raven.”

I roll my eyes and jump down.

Like I know what that means.

“Yo.” The other two walk in, beers in hand.

Cap laughs at me. “He put you to work?”

“He’s trying to teach me.” I lift a fork of white mush. My shoulders fall. “But I’m a shit student in all areas, it seems.”

“You still feelin’ the vodka floats?”

“Nope. Now I’m feeling the pounding on my temples.”

He and Royce laugh and start pulling out the dishes and shit for dinner.

We all move to the table like we’ve done every night since they pulled me into their little world.

Little world...

I look to Cap and right as I do, his eyes lift to mine and he gives a small, sad smile.

I drop mine to my plate.

“Her name is Zoey.”

My head snaps up and all movement around the table pauses. Dead fucking silence surrounds us, no one even dares chew.

“She’s two,” he continues. “Be three in June.”

My ribs star to ache. “What color are her eyes?” My question comes out quieter than I planned.

His mouth twitches. “Sometimes green, sometimes blue.”

“Like yours.”

He laughs lightly while nodding. He drops his eyes to his food. “Just like mine.”

“Captain...” I breathe, glancing from Royce to Maddoc, both who stare at me.

I don’t want to ask, but I want to know everything. So I wait.

“She’s with a foster family.”

I frown, sitting back in my chair.

“Zoey’s mom hid the pregnancy from me. I had no clue I was going to be a dad until after I already was.”

“What the fuck?”

“She was there, all was good, then Perkins called her from class that afternoon.”

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