Break Me

by Meagan Brandy

  Does it sting?

  Of course it does. My brother was the only person in my world I could depend on. We were only safe, away from the home we were born and raised in for less than twenty-four hours when they came for him, and not twenty-four after that I was on my way to my aunt’s, without him.

  Like I said, though, I understand, and as much as it has sucked to be without him, I’m grateful for them and what they gave him. If anyone deserved a chance in a world that meant something, it was him. I was okay knowing he was okay.

  I can only hope I don’t make a fool of him now that I have a chance to join him.

  I won’t.

  Chapter 11

  Royce

  “Whatcha lookin’ for, Ponyboy?”

  “A way to tell Maddoc it’s my kid you’re carryin’.”

  Raven laughs while I duck to avoid Maddoc’s open palm.

  “For real, what’s up?” She leans back in her chair, her hands on her big-ass belly.

  I reach out, putting my hand beside hers, my eyes still scanning the room. “She ain’t in here, I’m wondering if she’s curled in a corner somewhere.”

  Raven tips her head. “You want her to be?”

  I look back to her with a brow raised. “If I wanted her to be, she would be.”

  Victoria shrugs. “People have no reason to be threatened by her, so she should be fine.”

  “Exactly.” Raven nods. “She’s just a girl from the group home... until you make her something different.”

  “Which will happen never.” I glare.

  Raven smirks. “Uh-huh.”

  “Check it out.” Captain gains our attention.

  Enoch Cameron, Brayshaw High’s star pitcher, sits wide legged at a table near the back exit, chatting up Giana Fritz, a chick from the tennis team.

  He reaches out, flicking her hair near her shoulders, and she leans a little closer.

  “Lay it on thick, fucker,” I muse. “Your girl’s only sittin’ a table over.”

  We glance at Taylor Simms, the girl he’s had on his hip since freshman year.

  “Right on time,” Maddoc speaks low, and the rest of us look toward the door.

  Coach Von walks right through, cut lip, black eye and guaran-fucking-tee some fractured-ass ribs under his firm pressed dress shirt.

  Victoria sits forward in her chair, studying their body language while we look for a sign that reads foul play.

  What do you know, while Enoch doesn’t look his way, the fucker does sit up in his seat.

  His eyes fly to Taylor, who shrinks in her chair, hiding her face behind her phone.

  Neither of them look toward the coach.

  Maddoc leans back. “It was him.”

  “Yeah. We’re missing something.” Cap nods.

  “They’re playin’ bitch boy games.”

  “But is it me...” Victoria squints. “Or does Taylor look like she’s about to break down with waterworks any second now?”

  She does.

  “Looking at that dude, seems he’s looking for a new flavor.”

  Victoria eyes her, shaking her head. “We need to look at her a little deeper.”

  Nobody argues. Victoria is usually right when it comes to this kind of thing, but until we find out more, it is what it is.

  My eyes shift to Enoch when he stands. He says something to Giana that has her nodding before he walks away.

  Dipshit.

  I turn to Captain. “Aye, let me take Zoey on Sunday.”

  He frowns. “You know you can come with us. Always.”

  I grin.

  Fuck me, love to hear that, not that I need to. They never throw it in my face, never try to sneak away alone. We might have added to our threesome, but it’s got no effect on how tight we are.

  They know me and are fully aware I give a fuck-ton about their relationships.

  In fact, they’d kick my ass if they knew I didn’t have plans on days I pass on their outings, but I’d take it if they found out because I want them to have the time they deserve with their girls, always.

  I love my brothers as much as I know how, but the love they get from their equal halves isn’t one I can match. It isn’t one I’d ever cut in on either.

  “I know, brother.” I nod. “But I want her to my damn self. I’ve gotta score back some points since Uncle Dick over here keeps sneaking stuffed trains in her room.”

  Captain swings his frown to Maddoc.

  Maddoc’s glare snaps my way, and he tosses a bottle cap at me.

  “You said no more stuffed animals,” Cap calls him out.

  I sit back, grinning with Raven and Victoria while Maddoc does his damn best to justify Zoey’s need for every fuckin’ thing she wants. And more.

  What neither of them know is I rented out the entire Build-A-Bear Workshop for Sunday night for the princess.

  I grin thinking about it, a grin that widens when Katie Kline slides up with a heavy coat of lip gloss and a long, slow blink.

  The table goes back to their own conversations while I focus on Katie.

  “You ran out on me pretty fast the other night,” she says with a small smirk.

  I ditched her, and she still came back. I’ll reward her for that, even if this little stopover is as purposeful as the leak of every single celebrity sex tape.

  It’s cool though, I’ll play her little game of show and tell, her objective: let me show you who I played with, now go tell all your friends.

  I kick my leg out.

  Never willing to pass on an invitation, she lowers her ass onto my left thigh.

  “Come on now, Katie K.” I tilt my head slightly. “Don’t front like you expected me to stay.”

  She brings her upper body closer to mine. “Doesn’t hurt to hope you might.”

  “It should.” I grin, squeezing her thigh. “It should sting real good.”

  Katie laughs, swaying her knee back and forth. I glance to Raven to see if she’s noticed the clear shot up her skirt, but her focus lies on the far side of the cafeteria.

  I know that face and skim the room. I don’t find anything that would give the girl a reason to harden though. “RaeRae.”

  My slow and tight call of her name has Maddoc’s head snapping toward her with concern.

  Her eyes dart to his first, quickly moving to mine only to swing right back where they were. “New flavor, you say?”

  Only when a group of freshmen with trays in their hands start walking again, do I spot what she has—short silver hair parked right in front of a dead pitcher walking.

  Enoch fucking Cameron blocks her from me. The only glimpse I get is a half shot of sleek-ass shine teasing at the edge of an exposed shoulder that wasn’t exposed earlier.

  Enoch slides behind her then, and at the slight angle I have, it looks as if he’s gripping on to her arm. He’s definitely saying something.

  Talking to her.

  Right near her fucking ear, like I was only hours ago when I realized she smells like sunshine and wicked red wine.

  The sweet with a bite that follows.

  I put my hands on Katie’s outer thighs, ready to move her ass and stand, but then Mac is there.

  He slaps a hard hand down on the back of Enoch’s neck in a good old friendly gesture that says ‘get back motherfucker’ and uses the move to turn his body sideways. Away from Brielle. The potential—and very likely—fuckup, and Mac now facing each other.

  Mac smiles spewing something and Enoch grins back, lifting his fist to give him props.

  There you go, my man. Play him right, get him where we need him tonight.

  Mac slowly eases between the two, and then dismisses Enoch altogether, turning toward Brielle.

  She’s got her shades on now, but smiles up at him with ease.

  He says something, and she laughs, her hands slipping into her hair.

  “And here comes Chloe,” Victoria singsongs.

  At the mention of her friend, Katie pulls her face from her phone, seeking out the former quee
n bee and Mac’s honey.

  Chloe struts up like a runway ruler, confident and flawless as always, and a fucking giant compared to Brielle. She’s got a foot on her easy, and that’s not including the six inches added by her Valentinos either.

  Raven and Victoria laugh when Chloe plants her ass at her man’s side, her opening move being her slipping a shoulder in front of Mac, her little show of territory over her man.

  Brielle doesn’t cower away, grow nervous, or get mad.

  The girl smiles at her.

  I cut quick glances at Raven and Victoria, who both sit back with curious, questioning eyes.

  Told them.

  Off.

  Brielle sticks her hand out, and just like that, Chloe grins bright. Like Victoria said, she puts off no threat. She’s kind.

  “Have you met her yet?” Katie reminds us she’s still here, like her bony ass isn’t stabbing into my thigh muscle more and more by the second.

  All eyes turn to her.

  She squirms, unable to handle all of our attention at once. She attempts to cover the nervousness in her tone but fails. “She’s the newest girl from the group home, right?”

  “Those are the only new students we take.”

  She knows this. Everyone does.

  There are only two scenarios for students who go to Brayshaw High—the legacy kids, the ones whose mother or father or some other family member went here and held up the town with pride, and the ones we allow in on a trial basis. Those are the neglected or abused or downright fucked teenage boys and girls who never had a chance but deserve one.

  Like the chance Brielle was supposed to get after she was freed from her fucked-up family but never got.

  A nasty sense of guilt seeps in, pulling at my ribs and forcing me to stretch my torso.

  She lost a lot of time.

  “She’s in my AP calculus class.” Katie tries to cover up her pointless question. “Smart as hell, I guess.”

  “Why you say that?”

  “Well for one, she’s a junior and in calculus.” She sips her smoothie. “That and I heard Coach Von tell her she could help grade papers after school anytime she wanted.”

  I force myself not to react, play bored and flick my eyes past my brothers.

  Now that’s some interesting shit.

  Invite the new girl after class so quickly, freshly fucked-up face and all?

  “Maybe she’ll do my homework.” Raven plays it cool, shifting the conversation to safer zones.

  Katie’s full of starry eyes as she stares at her queen. “I don’t think there’s anyone here who wouldn’t do whatever you asked them to.”

  Raven looks away. She wouldn’t ask a soul to do shit for her. Anyone who knows a thing about her, knows that much.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dig it out.

  MacMoney: Micah’s about to grab her.

  I lock eyes with him from across the room, and when I give no signal for him to intervene, he grabs his girl, the two disappearing as Micah steps up.

  His arm slips over her shoulder and she leaves it there, allowing him to lead her across the cafeteria, right to where most of the guys from the home kick back along with a few others who don’t live on our property, but work out at the warehouses.

  She smiles and waves along with the group, laughing at something as she pushes Micah’s arm off her. One of them shoves out a chair and she doesn’t hesitate to sit.

  She puts her elbows on the table and joins their conversation with ease.

  Captain’s eyes narrow. “They’re never that friendly that quick.”

  “They’re afraid of her brother,” Raven teases.

  So not just a group home chick. One protected by her brother’s name.

  “Wait, who is her brother?” Katie leans forward, a gleam for gossip in her gaze.

  Maddoc looks to me and I nod, sliding my eyes to Katie.

  I tap on her ass and her leg muscles clench.

  She pauses but knows better and removes herself from my lap. She walks away and I lean forward, dropping my forearms on the table.

  “If she’s in her class, her last name would have stuck and she’d know who her brother was,” Raven says.

  My features smooth, and I lean back in my chair. This can only mean one thing.

  “They don’t know.”

  Cap’s eyes narrow and he guesses, “Maybell.”

  “She must have hooked her up.”

  But why?

  Raven eyes the group curiously. “So, they don’t know Bishop is her brother. She’s been here, what, three hours, and they like her already?”

  “I mean... look at her, you guys.” Victoria shakes her head, a smoothness taking over her face as she does what she does best, reading words that aren’t there. “She’s not like we were, standoffish and disgruntled, angry.” She pauses. “Think about how she was this morning when we scared the shit out of her. She didn’t get freaked out or even get embarrassed, she looked at us like... I don’t know, but there was a gentleness to her and not in a fearful way. And then right now, she walked up to a group of rough-ass, bruised up, tatted and pierced punks and thugs with zero hesitation and a smile. A real smile. No judgment in her tone, not unease or tension they can sense. She’s soft, calm-like, and she doesn’t realize it. People are drawn to that, even if they don’t know what to do with it. They just... want to be near.” She looks to Captain. “Zoey would like her.”

  He grins, squeezing her thigh.

  The pit of my stomach clenches, folds over, but I shake it off. This is nothin’ but bullshit talk.

  Useless.

  A waste of fucking time.

  The table jolts as I hop up and low laughs float from the girls. “There’s ten minutes left, let’s shoot some hoops.”

  “Need to let off some steam, brother?” Maddoc smirks.

  I flip him off.

  “You know they wouldn’t be so friendly if they knew she was with us.” Raven raises a brow.

  “She’s not with us. She works for us, same as a couple dozen others.”

  Maddoc pushes to his feet, helping Raven to hers and coming to stand beside me.

  He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Your knuckles are lookin’ white, brother.”

  “Your eye’s about to look black, brother.”

  He tips his head. “You know I’m dying to spar.”

  I nod, leading us toward the back door. “Okay, fucker. Me and you, gloves tomorrow.”

  The others chuckle behind him, and I hold the door open for them to pass through, but before I step out, I cut a quick glance at Brielle.

  The second my attention lands on her, her head happens to shift, and I know she’s spotted me, even if I can’t see her eyes behind the frames.

  I pause, waiting.

  And waiting.

  And she turns away, laughing at something the dude across from her says.

  Tension that tugs a lot like anger wraps around my shoulders, but I roll it out and head for the court.

  Right as I drop my backpack, my phone goes off in my hand, and I glance to the screen. My pulse kicks when I see her name. It’s fucking irritating.

  I must be annoyed, pent up or somethin’, ‘cause this shit’s whack.

  Little Bishop: I tried, but that was weird.

  My lip twitches, but I force a frown quickly.

  Me: don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Little Bishop: sure you do.

  Smart-ass.

  Little Bishop: I say hi to the mailman when I see him. I’m not going to pass by you and not say hi.

  Me: so I’m on equal playing ground as a mailman? Nice.

  Like an elbow in a game of street ball, confusion knocks hard at my ribs.

  Why’d I send that?!

  Little Bishop: You are DEFINITELY not on the same level as the mailman.

  That’s right. I’m not.

  Little Bishop: He says hi first...

  A scoffed laugh escapes.

  This girl, I s
wear.

  Little Bishop: So yeah, this is your fair warning. I’m going to say hi when I see you because I want to, but I won’t be showy about it. Promise. Nobody will ever even assume we’ve spoken a word to each other.

  That last line shouldn’t piss me off.

  In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure it should do the opposite, but like I said, I must be annoyed today.

  Irritation heats my limbs.

  Strangers.

  Just another person in the hall, not connected to us, not protected by us, but watched out for by other Bray employees, like one of their own.

  Bray employees like the ones she’s chatting up in the cafeteria, that smile and laugh at her ‘cause they know an honest girl when they meet one, spot a beaten soul when they cross one, and soak up light when it’s in reach.

  She’s in their reach.

  And fuck me, the girl’s got a lot of light.

  “Royce.”

  I look to my brother.

  Maddoc rolls the basketball between his fingers, eyeing me.

  I tap my phone in my palm, and his gaze narrows.

  I look to Captain, and then the girls who chat at the picnic table not five feet away.

  With a nod, I stuff my phone in my pocket, and clap my hands together, asking for the ball.

  Maddoc passes it my way, and I slowly dribble forward, but my foot barely passes the foul line. I abandon the thing and spin on my fucking heels.

  In my peripheral, the girls’ heads turn, following me.

  I throw the cafeteria door open, knowing it will slam against the wall, only to fly back and hit even harder on the frame. The shit’s loud and gains the attention of everyone around.

  Everyone but the silver-haired thing in the corner.

  She continues to stare forward, her laughter rippling across the room, outshining every sound and pissing me off.

  Jonah, one of our ground’s boys, sits in front of her, his eyes popping up to mine as I slip closer.

  Those around are waiting, watching. Holding their damn breaths. They pretend not to be, but they are. Every fuckin’ one of them.