Break Me (Brayshaw High) - Meagan Brandy Page 0,37
to say hi, why couldn’t you just...” I give a small shrug. “You know, say hi back?”
His features pull.
A few silent seconds pass, and when he speaks there’s a hesitancy in his tone that wasn’t there before. “Rules, little Bishop.”
Rules.
Right.
I hate rules.
His eyes move between mine once more, and then he turns and walks away.
The second he does, I pull out my phone to check the time.
It’s not even six yet.
A smile finds my lips and I dial my brother.
“Sister.”
“Brother.” I smile, my eyes travel over the mansion once more, falling to the window when I spot a man’s figure shadowed there—their father, Rolland Brayshaw. The ex-con and former head of Brayshaw watches me.
I make my way toward the group home.
“Everything okay?” There’s some shuffling around, then he comes back on clearer. “You don’t usually call this time of day.”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Better than. Anticipation has my stomach muscles tightening. “Hey, so... where are you right now?”
“I’m... working,” he hesitates.
My shoulders fall. “So you’re not home?”
“Not right now, no.” His voice is quieter than before, and a long pause follows. “Why do you ask?”
Because I want to surprise you.
“No reason.” I smile.
I almost grow sad, but I don’t allow it to take over. I’m not hundreds of miles away anymore. There’s always later, maybe even tonight?
“I’m gonna see you soon, sister. I promise. Things are just—”
“It’s okay,” I cut him off quickly. His dejected tone was slipping in and there’s no need for it anymore. “You will see me soon.”
Sooner than you realize.
There’s a commotion in the background, and the line goes dead, another conversation cut short, but that ends soon.
No more required secrets, no more lost time. He can share his world with me, because now, it’s mine too.
I’m here, brother. Literally.
Before I can put my phone away, a text comes through.
Bass: I’m sorry. I’ll call you back soon.
Bass: I love you, little sister. Never change who you are.
Never change who you are.
Something is up with him, he’s been off more than normal the last couple months. Answering only half of my calls, calling me even less, and talking like the end of the world is creeping in on him, but those specific words seem to dig in worse than any others he’s spoken, as if he sees me clearly when I can’t seem to see myself.
With one last look over my shoulder, I find Royce’s focus pointed this way, a towel now draped around his neck.
He doesn’t look away, but I do.
I walk back to the house with slow, forced steps, a single thought plaguing me all the way.
What if change is what I need?
Royce
Her eyes, as turquoise and tired as the last time I saw them.
Her demeanor, as harmless but determined as I decided she is.
Her approach to the entire situation... frustrating as hell.
I tried to piss her off, to demand something of a girl desperate to be free of expectation, and instead of fighting me, she got excited.
Laughed.
Fuckin’ smiled?
I searched for a sign of sarcasm and was almost irritated when I came up short, but I know for damn certain had I found it, I’d have still been mad about it.
Lose, lose?
Maddoc steps beside me, his gaze focused where mine is, on the girl who has just stepped between the trees, on her way back to the group home she’ll now call home.
She had to have been talking to her brother just now.
You tell him you’re here, little Bishop?
A frown digs at my forehead, and finally, when Brielle’s as good as gone, Maddoc and I face each other.
“Who is she?” he asks, and rightfully so.
She came near his home, his woman, and unborn kid.
Our niece.
I meet their eyes but hold Raven’s.
“Brielle Bishop.”
“Bishop,” Raven repeats. “As in...”
“As in your boy Bass? His little sister.”
“I...” She shakes her head. “Didn’t expect that.”
Victoria chuckles, joining us, and both me and Cap look to Zoey sittin’ on the lounge chair, her entire little arm disappearing into a bag of beef jerky.
Cap turns to me. “Miss Maybell sent her down here, didn’t she?”