BE MY BRAYSHAW

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BE MY BRAYSHAW Page 5

by Meagan Brandy


  Raven takes the car from Maddoc’s hand and slips it in her hoodie pocket, her eyes on Victoria who doesn’t so much as flinch at Royce’s advance.

  “You’re either smart as shit or dumb as fuck, girl, and I gotta say I’m going with the last part.” He pushes his chest against her. “Maybe Maybell pretended not to see you hidin’ in corners at the group home, but this ain’t the place. You’ll be gone as quick as you came, and I’m not talking ‘bout your midnight thoughts of Cap.”

  Victoria gives a lazy blink, unaffected and already accustomed to Royce and his protective, pounce first, ways.

  Her eyes slide to mine. “She’d love to watch you play.”

  My blood runs hot beneath my skin and I move forward.

  “Well, that was mighty fuckin’ brave, VicVee.” He glares, calling her by the dumbass nickname he came up with for her as he backs away, knowing full well I’m ready to take his place.

  She tips her head, brown eyes waiting to see what they’ll find in mine.

  “I’m not sure you understand the situation here,” I draw out. “You’re not in this house because you earned it, you’re here because we can’t trust you outside of it. We can’t allow you to go around running your mouth about things the town isn’t aware of yet, but if you try and come in here and tell me what to do with my daughter like you know better than me, I will toss you out so fucking quick your head will spin.” I get in her face and she pulls her lips in. “And I’m not talking about out of this house, but out of our town.”

  “You can try.”

  My head tugs back and in my peripheral, I spot Maddoc pushing to his feet.

  I crowd her but she doesn’t budge, her chin lifting to keep our stares locked. “And what will you do, hm? How will you stop me?”

  Her hand lands on my forearm, in a warm, strong hold, attempting to soothe with her touch, with her eyes... as if she has the right.

  My jaw flexes.

  “I’m not being hateful or spiteful or anything else you’re working to convince yourself of,” she says for only me to hear.

  Fuck me if that’s not worse than if she would have screamed it in my face.

  I lower mine to hers. “Have you learned nothing, Victoria?”

  When her eyes tighten, I continue.

  “You want to stand here and act like you know us, yet still you whisper, hide your voice from my family? Have you not realized yet we don’t work like that? We talk, we fight, we fuck where we need, when we need. We don’t hide from each other.” My eyes begin to twitch. “You lied about knowing my kid, and you dare tell me what the fuck to do with her like your opinion or thoughts or wasted-ass whispers matter?” I toss her hand off me, taking a step back. “They don’t.”

  She licks her lips, her focus shifting behind me a long moment before snapping back. Stronger, more determined. “They will.”

  My eyes bulge before I can stop them, and damn if I’m not struck.

  She’s fucking insane.

  To my left, Maddoc slowly drops back in his seat as Royce shuffles a few feet away, but Raven, she leans forward on the couch, watching.

  If Victoria notices they’ve let up a little, she doesn’t let it show.

  She closes the gap I put between us, her hand shooting up to grip my chin so she can tip my head, but I don’t budge, and she doesn’t let fucking go.

  My pulse pounds heavy in my throat as I glare down at the girl who ruined everything.

  Hate to want you, Beauty...

  “I’m not going anywhere, but I have a feeling if I tried... you’d stop me.”

  A heavy strain tugs at my shoulder blades, but I cover it well. “If you think I’d chase you, you’re wrong. I said I wanted to fuck you, Victoria. I never said a damn thing about wanting you.”

  “Oh, but you did, Cap.” She speaks slowly, anger darkening her cheeks. “Minutes before that little girl ran up to you in the orchard, you were clear about what you want.”

  She calls me out, but I blanket her words with a mocking chuckle, almost missing the slight pinch at the edge of her eyes.

  “Want.” My grin is far from playful. “I said I wanted you, Beauty.”

  I lick my lips, forcing my eyes to flick over her carelessly.

  “Not your mind, not your heart, not you. My want is groin deep, satisfied by a warm body I can play with.”

  “Now who’s the liar?”

  I smirk through my anger. “Hold on to that bit of confidence, it’ll feel good when I shred it to pieces.”

  Something dims in her gaze, but it’s gone as quick as it comes. “I didn’t know you were such a dick.”

  “You don’t know me at all.” My glare intensifies and I jerk my chin from her grip, lowering my face to hers on my own terms.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at her.”

  That gets her, a heavy strain tugging at her features instantly, and for the first time tonight, unease stares back. “You want me to run from a three-year-old? To deny her? Ignore her if she calls my name?”

  “She’s two. And, yes.”

  “She’ll be three in three months, and that’s not fair,” she dares.

  I growl, shoving closer and forcing her to trip over her own feet until she stumbles back a step. “Fair is an opinion, and yours is as worthless as your word.”

  She clamps her lips shut before saying, “What happened to being the logical of the three, the Brayshaw who sees what anger shadows?”

  My lip curls. “I was blinded by a blonde for the last time.”

  She runs her tongue across her teeth, nodding lightly as she looks off. “Right.”

  I stare at her, knowing I can’t have her roaming the halls of this house as my little girl freely will. Spring break began on Friday for Brayshaw High, so she has no place to be over the next seven days until the five of us return to BHS.

  I’m not okay with that.

  So, when she walks past me, I let her, waiting for her foot to hit the first step, letting her think our conversation is over, and then add, “Don’t come out of your room this week unless it’s to leave before we wake. There should be no sign you exist.”

  She hesitates a second before slowly climbing the stairs and disappearing from sight.

  Not until I’m sure she’s gone do I blow out a long breath, turning to the others.

  Raven grins, while my brothers fight laughs.

  They know I bull faced fucking lied, but she needs to sweat, and I need a sign she gives a damn. A real move, not one wrapped in an agenda or dipped in fear.

  The problem is, in our world, it’s hard to tell the two apart. The truth always comes at the worst possible moment… like right after I forced myself to push aside the betrayal from the last female I let in and reopened a part of me I swore I never would.

  Mallory messed me up good.

  It’s fucked up, but Victoria’s betrayal, it should have been expected.

  My brothers and I, we know the drill.

  With truth comes trouble.

  It’s why we exist in the first place.

  We were born with purpose, warriors from the womb, leaders at birth, adopted into this family by a man that cared for our real parents who weren’t lucky enough to live and watch what we’d become.

  Unstoppable, unbreakable.

  Brayshaw.

  “So, uh, anyone interested in seeing the pic I got of Tracy Parks’ tit job tonight?” Royce asks, easing the tension and earning a laugh from each of us.

  Twenty minutes later I’m showered and lifting my baby girl from her bed, carrying her across the hall into my room, and lying her down beside me in mine.

  She doesn’t so much as flutter a lash, hugging her little stuffed train as tight as ever. I tuck her blanket around her, laying mine on top, and stare at the most perfect little face.

  I will love you with all I am and protect you with all my might, my little Zoey.

  No matter what.

  Chapter 4

  Victoria

&
nbsp; There should be no sign you exist.

  I’d have begged for such an ‘order’ not long ago when the last thing I wanted was to look a Brayshaw in the eye and risk them seeing the truths in mine.

  Now, it’s annoying and everything I used to strive for but no longer want, at least not when it comes to them—invisibility.

  Oh the irony.

  Over the next four days, I do as asked, leaving early and returning late. When they do see me they don’t speak, giving only side glances and blank stares I’m left to decipher, but I don’t care.

  I do as instructed without so much as a frown, head held high and all.

  I’m still sleeping under their roof, aren’t I?

  Besides, I’m almost positive they’re having me followed. I’ve been going to the same park in the mornings, hanging out and keeping myself busy by picking the weeds from the planter boxes around there, and today when I went back, there was a pair of new gloves sitting right on top of the next in line to be worked on, tags still on and all.

  “Heads up, Brayshaws coming in hot,” Nira, who happened to be walking the same way I was this morning, whispers into her cup as she leans back in the chair.

  I turn to look and there they are, rolling up in a black Denali, one of three in this town.

  I always thought it was odd all three brothers drove identical vehicles, but it makes sense now. You see one, you know a Brayshaw is coming, and each is as important as the other. It doesn’t matter which is inside, Brayshaw is Brayshaw.

  Further proving my suspicion, Royce needs not a moment to roam the area, his smirk instantly landing on me as he hops from the passenger seat, Captain moving a bit slower to exit the driver’s side.

  He saunters over, way too much confidence for his own good, not that he doesn’t deserve it—he’s hot and he knows it.

  He flips one of the extra chairs around, straddling it, and reaches out to snag a fry from my tray, stuffing it in his mouth.

  “VicVee.” He grins and then looks to Nira. “Group home girl.”

  She offers a tight-lipped smile but focuses on her soda.

  “So what up, girl?” Royce leans forward, elbows planted on the tabletop. “Catchin’ some rays?”

  “Killin’ some time.” I lift a brow and his smirk grows.

  “Good girl.”

  I roll my eyes, dropping back in my chair.

  My gaze cuts over his shoulder as Captain approaches, but his eyes slide past mine, and he walks inside the small burger place we just came out of.

  Nira nudges me in the elbow, cutting a quick glance around, but I don’t have to look to know what she’s stressed over.

  This is the downtown strip, and during off-campus hours, it’s overtaken by students, specifically the picnic area, where we are now, where two of the three Brayshaw boys have just been spotted.

  Of course they’re staring.

  They haven’t laid eyes on the boys of Brayshaw in weeks, and their blue-blooded selves could hardly take it, so this? Confirmation with their own eyes when all they’ve had was word of mouth and speculation?

  This is golden.

  Long live their kings.

  “Watch ‘em flock, like the starved ducklings they are.” Royce scans the area using his peripheral sight, not once moving his eyes from mine. “Ten minutes and there won’t be an empty seat near this bitch.”

  Right as he says it, a guy comes from behind me, adding three more chairs to my—our, I guess—table.

  Nira wastes not a second, hops to her feet and rushes off. “See you around, Tor.”

  I frown after her, nodding even though she’s not looking at me.

  “Yeah.” Royce chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket. “We have that effect on people.”

  I roll my eyes, my head snapping left when the back door of the SUV suddenly opens, and a smiling Raven climbs out, tugging on her man’s hand.

  She laughs loudly when he growls, glaring at her.

  “See that, VicVee,” Royce starts. “That’s the face of a half-cocked fucker.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “That means he only got half of what his cock wanted, which was to fuck her. Get it?” He grins.

  A light laugh escapes right as Captain makes his way outside, a tray in each hand.

  He glares at his brother but quickly drops it to the drinks he’s slowly setting on the tabletop.

  He, of course, chooses the seat a space away from me, leaving Nira’s vacated one empty.

  Raven lowers into one on my left as Maddoc takes her free side.

  “Hey.” She briefly meets my eyes and then looks to a grinning Royce. She leans back in her chair. “What?”

  “Little Big Man gettin’ in the way of the real one? No more backseat lovin’?”

  She fights a grin while Maddoc shoves at Royce’s chair, making him laugh.

  “Shut up, fucker,” Maddoc tells him quietly. “She’s wearing my hoodie for a reason.”

  My eyes fall to her stomach.

  That’s right.

  They haven’t shared she’s pregnant with the town yet.

  I guess the hoodie helps, but not by much.

  “Man, word spread quick.”

  We look over to find Mac and his girlfriend, Chloe, heading our way.

  Great.

  A huge smile takes over Chloe’s face as she advances, her five-inch heels clinking with each step.

  “Holy shit!” Chloe rushes toward Raven. “You’re show—”

  “Shut up,” I cut her off right as Raven does.

  Chloe’s glare meets mine, and I grin as Raven smacks her hand away the second it reaches for her stomach.

  Chloe’s eyes widen and she lifts her palms, whispering, “Sorry. No one from here has left and came back carrying a mini watermelon.”

  “She likes to call it a basketball,” Royce throws out.

  “It’s not an it.” Maddoc glares.

  “You just said it,” Chloe sasses, crossing her arms. “And what did you expect, Rae? I won’t be the only one attempting to, you know, so maybe be better prepared for that.”

  “You need to chill.”

  Chloe’s blue eyes fly to mine, and her lips form a bitchy smile. “Nobody was talking to you.”

  “And nobody asked for your opinion.” The words fly from my mouth and I lean forward in my chair. “You think because you weaseled your way to the wedding because of who your man is and added a Brayshaw to your bedroom afterparty that suddenly you’re allowed to tell her what she should and shouldn’t do? It was only months ago you were trying to turn your little entourage against her and she gave you that fancy little hair cut you’ve now got goin’ on. You’re lucky anyone at this table even speaks to you.”

  Chloe was Brayshaw High’s queen bee before Raven got here and took this place by storm. Two months ago, Chloe hated Raven for stealing her spotlight while Raven didn’t give a shit about any of her petty games. She isn’t one for trusting but has given Chloe a break, one I don’t think she’s deserved.

  Her eyes narrow. “Water under the bridge.”

  “Because it’s that easy, isn’t it?”

  Raven’s eyes meet mine, but I only briefly look away from the girl who thinks she’s going to slither into a spot she has no idea I slipped out of. Sure, it was Royce she had a three-way with, not Captain, but still.

  No.

  And then Raven speaks.

  “Vee’s right, Chloe,” she says, her head still angled toward me before she looks up at her. “I couldn’t handle your shit before, so I sure as fuck can’t handle it while I’m permanently irritated.”

  “Hate to break it to you, Rae, but that’s nothing new.” She shrugs, then her eyes widen and she laughs it off. “Sorry. I’m working on the whole bitch thing.”

  I scoff and she purses her lips.

  “Maybe keep your guard dog close,” she mocks me. “If you don’t want hands near you.”

  Raven fluffs the hoodie out more so it doesn’t form to her
shape. “I’m pretty sure my face screams don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

  “It’s just what people do when someone—”

  “Keep it the fuck down,” Maddoc snaps, his tone low but threatening.

  “Fine, sorry,” Chloe whispers. “It’s true though, they want to feel the baby move.”

  “I haven’t even felt the baby move,” Maddoc and Royce say at the same time.

  Their heads snap toward each other, Maddoc with a glare, Royce with a wide grin.

  Captain and Raven chuckle, sharing a look and I force my eyes away.

  That right there, that’s when shit’s hard to handle.

  I admit, it’s the subtle, simple things between the four of them that I envy the most—the quick glances and side grins. Conversations without words and selfless decisions.

  When the chair across from me scrapes the ground, I turn my head back.

  Mac drops into the seat a space from me after Chloe takes the one at Captain’s side.

  Why wouldn’t she offer that spot to her man?

  “Somethin’ sour coat that filthy little tongue, VicVee?” Royce calls me out.

  I leave whatever the hell slipped over my features, and shrug, not bothering to take my eyes off Chloe’s.

  Chloe looks from me to Captain, her head tipping in question as her eyes brighten. “Ohhh… what drama did I miss?”

  I give a slow blink, sitting back. “Please.”

  Her head draws back, and I know she’s ready to talk some shit, but then Mac leans over, whispering in her ear and she clears her throat, offers a tight smile and then announces she’s going inside to grab a drink.

  And conversations ensue as if this wasn’t my table they chose to take a seat at.

  As if I’m not even here.

  As if I don’t exist.

  If there was a punchline here, I’d go as far as to say the joke would be on them because being ignored doesn’t affect me as I assume they had hoped.

  I’m not new to blackouts, have gone weeks at a time without so much as hearing the voice of another person, let alone laying eyes on one.

  The quiet treatment is hardly a punishment, especially when my Brayshaw speaks so loudly with his eyes, his touch, his calm.

 

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