Break Me (Brayshaw High) - Meagan Brandy Page 0,47

from me at all.

She slips by with a smile, and some-fucking-how it’s me, following her out.

The second we’re standing in the warm outside air, and there aren’t dozens of fucking ears surrounding us, I slip in front of her, halting her footsteps.

She grins, but it falters when she realizes I’m not.

I’m irritated.

Why?

Who fucking knows!

But I am.

So I find something to bark about.

“You seem pretty fucking comfortable already.”

Her mouth pinches to the side. “I thought it was nice of Micah to introduce me to some people he met already.”

“From lame little loner to suddenly needing a gang around you, and all in a half day’s work.”

Brielle nods, and she looks away. “Yeah, Royce, that’s exactly it.”

“Don’t pretend it’s not, nobody likes a fake.”

An angry little flare has her chest rising. “And nobody likes a guy who’s an ass in an effort to drown out his own inner issues.”

My jaw flexes, my tone dark. Warning. “Watch it, baby girl.”

This girl, she either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care.

She steps into my space. “Man up, baby boy.”

I push toward her. “I swear to God—”

“If something I do bothers you, say it,” she cuts me off with a soft shout. “Or better yet, growl it since that seems to be your favorite way to communicate.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I’m getting the feeling you’re perpetually pissed off.” A sour laugh slips from her, but a soberness is quick to take its place. “If there’s something you want me to know, tell me all about it. Something you want me to stop doing or do more of, spell it out for me. Something you need from or of me, ask for it. I will give it to you if I’m able, and if I’m not, I’ll try to find a way.”

Something wraps around my upper body, squeezing. Pulling.

I swear there’s a crack.

I don’t like it.

She’ll do what she can, as much of it as she’s got, for me.

‘Cause that’s what I hired her for, right? What a good employee would do?

My lungs fill with air.

Right?

Brielle’s arms fall to her side. “All I want is to be whatever it is you hoped for the minute you decided I was worth this place,” she whispers with purpose. “But I can’t be if you don’t help me figure out what that is.”

I push my chest out, my attempt to stretch through the heaviness building and building.

And fucking building.

She wants to be whatever I want her to be.

Whatever I want her to be.

I want her to be better off than she was because she was supposed to be.

I want her to be everything her brother doesn’t.

I want her to do all the things he’d hate.

See all the things he tried to shield her from.

The pain and anger, the danger and resolution.

I want her in the middle of trouble and forced to fight her way out.

I want her to be nothing she is and everything she’s not.

That’s why I brought her here, to change her, to give her more and use her to piss off her brother?

Isn’t it?

To create something new for Bass Bishop’s little sister.

To obliterate the softness, bury the bright, and lead her into the darkness?

To erase everything she is and rewrite her completely.

RIGHT?!

I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until a hard hand comes down on my shoulder.

I meet Maddoc’s gaze, and he lowers his chin.

Snap out of it, brother, that’s what he’s saying.

With his help, I do. I force my muscles loose and push a chuckle past my lips.

I grab the ball he offers and begin walking backward, Brielle studying me closely.

“That...” I trail off, plant my feet and throw for a three-pointer, slowly turning back, not stopping until I’m directly in front of her. “Was one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever heard.”

Her eyes move between mine. “I highly doubt that.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“And you should go,” she says softly. “Your BrayGirl is waiting.”

BrayGirl?

I look over as she does.

Katie K stands near the double doors leading to the empty locker room, pretending not to be eavesdropping.

She’s far from mine, just someone I enjoyed playing with, but I don’t tell her this.

I lick my lips.

“You were wrong, you know.” We meet each other’s eyes. “You said a BrayGirl is good enough for our bed, but not our heart.”

I’m not sure she realizes it, but she takes a step back before speaking. “So you could love a girl who would give herself to you when you haven’t earned it?”

“No.”

Her frown is as quick as my response, but it doesn’t hold long.

She

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