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“Caught one of your girls at our spot tonight, Collins. The second she realized we knew who she was, she booked it but not before admitting you sent her there.”

I freeze.

I recognize that voice.

I move toward the chaos.

“Raven!” Nira hisses and Victoria growls. “What are you doing?!”

Still, I step farther into the darkness of the yard, but closer to the scene, seeing perfectly where the line is drawn.

The partygoers have all moved to stand behind the guy that lives here, Collins as they called him - the one I was talking to in the house - and directly in front of them, maybe two steps away... the kings of Brayshaw.

Maddoc, Captain, and Royce stand tall and wide, blank expressions worn by each as they face the thirty or so of the others.

I’m guessing the five who inch closer to Collins are his main men.

A red-headed girl catches my attention when she slinks toward the front, positioning herself at the edge of the group. She’s trying to appear strong, attempting to show she’s standing in a united line, but from where I am her fear is clear. She has one shoulder tucked behind the guy at her side, too afraid to fully stand against them.

Royce laughs, but it’s a menacing sound that sends a chill running up my spine. “What’s the matter, baby? Why’d you have to come out and play tonight?” He tilts his head mockingly, eyes traveling over her tiny skirt and jean jacket. “Bet your job was only to get inside ... not let me inside you.” He smirks and she shrinks into her shoulders, her gaze falling to the grass a moment. “Which one of these pussies thinks yours belongs to him? Let me tell him what you like—”

“Enough,” Collins growls, and like a damn movie, all three Brayshaws step closer. “I hear your pops is asking for a parole hearing. Interesting timing, don’t you think?”

My brows draw in and I look to the boys, but Maddoc doesn’t even acknowledge he’s spoken.

“Tell me why you sent her, and I won’t break your point guard’s arm tonight,” Maddoc tells him, his voice unnervingly calm and focused.

“Fuck you,” the guy I’m assuming is just that, the point guard, spits.

I glance at the boys again.

Captain has somehow sneakily slipped a pair of brass knuckles over what I’m only now noticing are tatted fingers and Royce’s are balled into fists. I look back to Maddoc and while he gives nothing away to the naked eye, there’s an eerie air surrounding him. He’s too calm, too poised. He’s ready.

Fuck me, they’re about to throw down.

I look to the other side, the Graven side.

Most of the partygoers have backed up a few steps, but Collins’ numbers doubled in an instant, now a good dozen standing off against the tripod, as I’ve named them.

And then I see the girl step back and slightly to the side, slowly edging away from them ... but closer to me.

I cut a quick glance at Nira and the others who all start waving me toward them, none saying a word as they hide in the darkness of the yard, cowering away from the scene, but I turn back toward it.

They showed up here, three strong, expecting a fight knowing they’d be outnumbered.

I grin.

Silly boys, so cocky.

But the way I see it, the only way to get the upper hand is to have the element of surprise.

I slowly step forward, and before I’m even seen, I push the chick a few feet over, until I can fully shove her into the pool. Because why the fuck not, it was too easy not to.

Plus, seems she signed up to play the rat tonight. I’ve got no love for her kind.

A loud gasp leaves her as she emerges, and she spins to me ... along with every other head in the yard.

She shrieks, swiping her hair from her face as she pushes up on the side of the cement. “Who the hell are you?” she shouts.

The Brays’ eyes are on me, I see it in my peripheral, but I don’t look their way. It would defeat the whole purpose, as every other person is looking my way too, meaning their heads are turned away from the three looking for trouble.

I don’t acknowledge the girl, just laugh lightly as I back away, stepping into the darkness the shadow of the house provides.

I head for the girls waiting for me. The second I hit the fence line, there’s a loud crack followed by a deep grunt – the first punch thrown.

Then the screaming and shouts start as they brawl in the backyard.

We run and jump in Victoria’s man’s car and head back for the group home.

“Are you fucking insane?!” Victoria sits forward in her seat, spinning to glare at me. “You better hope they don’t figure out we were there with you or I swear to fucking God I’ll—”

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