Break Me (Brayshaw High) - Meagan Brandy Page 0,89
the newest, nicest one in town.”
“You ain’t lyin’, RaeRae.” I push to my feet.
My family’s eyes pop up to mine.
“What are you doing, brother?” Maddoc watches me closely.
“Distracting myself. When it’s time, we deal and get the fuck out of here.”
“Yeah, and when we do, we takin’ Brielle with us?”
I grin as wide as I can.
“Nah, bro. She’s not with us. She stays.”
“And Jonah?” he pushes, knowing damn well what he’s doing.
Forcing me to face it, to feel it, the motherfucking gasoline as it seeps down my throat and waiting for the match to light me on fire. It’s coming.
I know it.
They sense it.
I hate it.
“If she’s yours.” He lowers his chin. “Let them know.”
I choke on a chuckle, rubbing at my chest and walk backward, away from them. “Yeah.” Another laugh, but this one hollow. “And who’s gonna tell her, huh?” Laugh. Ache.
Why’d I say that?
I shake it off and bring that fake little lip curve back, even though I know it fools none of them. “She ain’t mine, Madman. She’s nothing to me.”
“She’s behind you.” Raven’s eyes tighten, and I whip around.
Brielle stands there, an unopen beer bottle in her hand, fresh water bottle in the other.
With a tight-lipped smile, she waves the water out for me, a fog dimming the color of her eyes, like she told me ‘happens sometimes,’ but this is different.
This is hurt.
Did my words hurt, baby?
She blinks and it’s still there.
I don’t like it. I want to see them bright and wide. Alive.
Stimulated.
She thrusts the water toward me. “You finished off the one you had, thought you might want another.”
I might want you.
Fuck.
Virgin!
I take it from her, slide closer, and wrap my hand around the one holding the beer bottle. I bring it to my mouth and pop the lid off with my teeth.
The corner of her plump ass taunting you to taste crooked lips twitches as her chest inflates and it pisses me off.
I don’t know why, but it does.
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
“Get away from me.” My face hardens, and I slip past her, squeeze my eyes closed and when they open, it’s with a sharp snap. A wild fucking tic and I know I’ll be no good to my brothers, not for the safe laid plan.
So, fuck it.
End goal, yeah? That’s all we need?
The devil hears my pleas—the man of the hour slips through the door.
I spin to face my brothers and flick my eyes toward the entrance.
Party’s here.
They look and I turn back around, stand tall and proud, putting on a fucking playboy smile, cause that’s all I am, right?
I slap a hand on his shoulder. “What up, Enoch? How ‘bout a shot?”
He grins and follows me into the kitchen.
Stupid fucker.
Brielle
If the plan Mac, Maddoc, and Captain went over with me and Micah this afternoon is still the one they were going with, things are far off course.
Mac said he’d text us if things changed, but he hasn’t.
All we were supposed to do was show up tonight, linger around, hear what might be said or catch looks of suspicion. Basically, we’re to blend as lookouts while they did their Brayshaw thing and brought the hammer down.
None of what we were told matches what’s happening now.
Tonight’s plan didn’t involve any inkling of alcohol. In fact, we were told to hold a drink in our hands, toss it after thirty minutes when no one was looking, and grab another. Consuming none, yet Royce stands at the kitchen counter, pouring shot after shot, taking shot after shot, Enoch, Jenson, and Mac at his side.
Royce’s voice is growing louder, his shoulder slaps and ‘playful’ shoves, harder, stronger.
A heavy sigh is released beside me, and I look to find Raven.
“He’s picking a fight.”
“Yeah.” She squeezes her lips together. “He is.” Her eyes come to mine, a crazy gray in color, and focused. “It’s what he does when his head’s too heavy for him to hold up.”
I noticed.
This is my fault.
If I didn’t break down today over my brother’s car, we wouldn’t even be here right now. Everything would have been handled and I would have had a hand in helping.
I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before, but this is on me. I have to be the one to fix this.
Turning, I meet Raven’s eyes.
Raven’s scowls, trying to read the thoughts in mine. “If we move,” she says. “He’ll start beating on the guy, no hesitation, no chance of another outcome. You move...” Her lips pull to one side.