Page 65 of Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

Time ticks by in weighted silence, but finally, five shots and fifty-four minutes in, a low chuckle makes its way past Victoria’s lips.

She locks her eyes with mine, throwing back another shot, and a slow smirk follows.

My muscles clench when she carelessly goes for more.

I reach out, about to take the damn bottle when she shoves herself back, a loud, heavy screech echoing around us as her chair goes with her. In the same move, she lifts the fucking thing to her mouth and goes for a long swallow.

I jolt from my seat, and it’s like a chain reaction.

My brothers and Raven fly up with me, Victoria on her feet in the same damn second as us.

“Put the fucking—”

“Try and act concerned right now and I’ll finish this fucking thing,” she swears, cutting me off. “This is what you set this up for, don’t play like it’s not.”

Raven masks her expression, shifting her eyes between the two of us.

Victoria slams into her seat, tipping her head back on a mocking laugh.

“Man, I expected so much more,” she drags out, cutting a glare to Raven as she speaks to me. “This is juvenile, a trick from my own act, in fact. Of course, I was on the other side.”

There’s a bite in her tone that has me curious, and I glance at Raven right as she lifts her chin at Victoria.

“Fuck you talkin’ about, VicVee?” Royce asks.

She blinks hard. “I’m here, I’m buzzed. Should we move along?”

“You should be on your ass.” Maddoc glares.

Exactly.

“Wanna ask me why I’m not?” She smirks, tucks her hair behind her ear, her eyes moving to mine. “Oh I forgot, questions are hard to come by,” she calls me out.

Anger cuts through me, but like a shard of glass dipped in poison, it stings of betrayal when I wish it would burn with hate.

“And loose lips’ll get your ass beat,” Raven snaps.

Victoria’s glare flies to her. “As do lies, right?” she challenges.

Raven goes to step closer to her, but Maddoc shoots back to his feet, glaring down at her pregnant belly.

Raven’s jaw tics. “I never lied to them.”

“Whatever you have to say to convince yourself to feel better.”

What...

Raven gapes at Victoria, a laugh leaving both her and Royce at the same time.

Victoria’s eyes snap toward Royce before landing on me.

Hold on...

It takes me a moment, but then it hits, and a heavy frown covers my forehead. I lean forward, planting my hands out on the table to get as close without moving my feet as possible.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My eyes move between hers. “You want to sit here and question her loyalty?”

She doesn’t speak.

Holy shit.

I straighten my spine, brows lifted high as I stare at her.

“You really think Raven didn’t come home and tell me, tell us, what Maria told her? That I don’t know the woman who helped keep my daughter from me, your mother, held me as a baby because she couldn’t hold you?

“My father was gracious enough to take pity on her, an outcast Graven maid, before and after her pregnancy, gave her a home when she had nothing, and still she took me, separating me from my dad and my brothers like you were separated from her and with no care for anyone else’s feelings but herself. I know he spent weeks searching so he could bring me back home, where I belonged, with my family, and instead of killing her like he easily could have, he let her live.”

Her brows draw in.

“Unlike you, Raven came to me, to us as a whole, like a true Brayshaw would, and shared what she learned, what she knew I’d not only want to hear but need to know. She understands loyalty isn’t always easy.”

“Yet you looked so surprised to learn Maria was my mother.”

“Not surprised she was your mom, Victoria. Surprised you knew she was. Maria made it seem like you had no fucking clue. She acted as if you were out roaming, not connected to her and none the fucking wiser.”

Victoria says nothing, her eyes remaining just as hard as she tips her head back, drowning herself in more liquor.

I dart over, yanking it from her and grip her wrist. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Apple juice,” she seethes.

I tense and she uses that second to tear her arms free.

She pushes to her feet, walks around me, all eyes following her as she picks up the bottle we were drinking from and sniffs.

She nods, setting it down and looking across the four of us, arms out at her sides, only to let them fall with a hard slap to her thighs. “So what was the plan here, exactly? Get me drunk while you pretend to drink, obviously, but what was to follow that?”

Anger.

Pure, heated bitterness blisters in her eyes.

She’s completely closed off, a girl I’ve never seen, don’t know or understand stands in front of us.