Trouble at Brayshaw High - Meagan Brandy Page 0,79

to his feet while Royce scoots closer to Raven on the hospital bed.

“What do you mean?” he prompts, but she ignores him and fires off a question of her own.

“Who is Donley?” she asks.

“Donley is the head Graven, Collins’ grandfather.”

“He wants the birth certificate back, he’s afraid Donley will find it.” Her eyes fly to mine. “He has no fucking clue we broke in and stole it weeks ago.”

“So, Perkins is making moves, and Collins is coming in to sweep them under the rug when he leaves loose ends?” I ask.

“I’m not exactly sure. It sounded like Perkins was the one in charge, but then maybe needed help with something and Collins was who he went to for it. He didn’t seem like he trusted Collins much, though.”

When she flicks her eyes away a moment, mine narrow.

“Raven.”

Her lips pinch together before she says. “He acted like I was the center of the problem, said I’d see things their way in the end.” Her eyes bounce between ours. “He mentioned your dad, and how he’d have to make it right.”

“Make what right?” I push to my feet.

She shrugs. “Don’t know. He said, ‘why do you think she’s here.’ Why am I here, you guys?”

“This makes no fucking sense,” Royce grumbles, sliding his hands down his face.

“Wait.” Cap freezes a minute, then speaks low, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “How could the birth certificate possibly make any noise in the Graven world? She’s my kid. Brayshaw.” He looks to me. “How could that affect them? Why would Perkins wanna hide this, hide her, from them?”

“That’s not all,” Raven adds. “Collins said Perkins was washed from their hands, I assume he means Graven’s, years ago.”

“Did he say why?” I ask.

She licks her lips and looks to me. “When he went after the ‘trashes’ mom, aka Ravina.”

“What the hell does all this mean?” Cap shakes his head.

“Did he say when?”

She nods. “Eighteen years ago.”

“What ... not long before you were born.”

She eyes me a minute before hers grow tight. “Oh my god...”

“What?” Cap barks.

“Your mom.” Royce slowly stands, eyes on her. “She’s from here.”

I drop back on my ass, letting out a deep breath.

Royce tosses the stack of papers he was going through and falls beside me. “There’s nothing fucking here about your mom.” His head hits the wall. “Shit’s useless.”

“This is everything from the binder I stole from Maybell?”

Cap nods, but the deep frown taking over his forehead as he stares at the papers in front of him, has me curious.

“Cap.”

He takes a second, then lifts his eyes to mine.

“What is it?”

“Huh? Oh.” He drops it between his legs, looking over the next. “Just an old hospital visit of my dad’s. My ... biological dad.” As he says it, his frown deepens even more, but he wipes it away and looks back to us.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “It’s just this is everything. Staff records, bank accounts, contracts, deeds to the docks and Brayshaw blacklists. Affidavits, copy of the Brayshaw will, our adoption papers, even a list of all the other families’ names and locations.”

“Okay...” I prompt him to continue.

“What if everything around his arrest and trial aren’t the only things he hid?”

“Perkins,” Royce guesses.

Cap nods, looking to him. “He’s in the fucking picture in the yearbook, but his name is nowhere in it, and then nothing else. It’s odd. Why is he nowhere in any of this, but then in one forgotten and maybe accidental photo, and now the principal at our fucking school. That was decided by Dad. He knew he was in our business before then. He was a teacher at our elementary school. He’s always fucking around. Why has he not been sent away? Or at least, why is there no paper trail to him?”

I bend forward picking up the yearbook and turning to the page they had folded over. A young Rolland stands there, right beside Perkins with both Cap and Royce’s dad and another man, all their arms tethered around each other’s necks.

“We need to ask Dad about this,” Royce says before leaning over to point out their fathers, and I grin.

“You look just like your dad.” I laugh, trailing my fingers over the man’s dark and daring eyes. He even has Royce’s playful smirk.

“I’m way better looking than him,” he teases, winking when I glance his way.

He tries to hide it, but there’s a tinge of dejection in his eyes.

“And the last guy?” I ask, focusing back on the image. My eyes travel over the blond