BE MY BRAYSHAW

by Meagan Brandy

  “Getting some sun.” Getting away from the Bray house.

  She eyes me, her lips pursed. “Mmhm. Come on now, get on in.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  Her dark brows lift. “’Cause I said, child. Get in. You can use a distraction. Getting some sun,” she mocks with a scoff, “Girl, please.”

  A chuckle leaves me, and I’m tempted to ask how she would know, but that’s a fool’s question. She knows everything, so I push to my feet. “All right.”

  The car doesn’t stop at the main grocery store she would normally go to, I know because I used to help her carry them inside. The driver continues down the road a little farther, and around the corner where another smaller store sits amidst a neighborhood.

  We get inside and start checking off items on Maybell’s long-ass list—it takes a lot to feed ten to twelve teenage girls.

  “I heard you made your cinnamon rolls,” she says, pointing to a large bag of rice.

  I bend down to grab it, dropping it into the cart, before bringing my eyes to hers. “Gee, wonder how Rolland was aware I knew how.”

  Her smile is small as she continues to push the cart farther down the aisle. “I wonder...”

  When I shake my head, she chuckles and nods toward a case of flour.

  “You know, that’s my recipe.”

  My eyes slide to hers, and slowly I set the item into the cart.

  “Made those for Raven’s mother when she was young, for Rolland and the boys’ biological fathers, for the boys as they grew...”

  For everyone but Zoey.

  I frown, my hand shooting out and gripping the metal cart and her eyes come to mine.

  They’re gentle and knowing, and it pisses me off more.

  “Why tell Rolland knowing he’d ask me to. That wasn’t my memory to take,” I voice. “Hasn’t she lost enough family firsts or traditions?”

  Maybell’s smile is kind, maybe a little saddened. “You’ve been making those for her for some time, Tor.”

  My heart shakes.

  And there it is.

  She did know.

  “Why would you teach me how to make them?” I didn’t mean to whisper, but that’s how my words come out.

  I don’t even know why I asked.

  The answer is obvious.

  Because she knew. She knew where I was disappearing to each day and what Zoey was missing out on already, so she gave me something she trusted I’d give her. A piece of home I never knew existed. Sure, it’s a damn recipe, but it’s their recipe.

  I let go of the cart and face forward again.

  We get halfway around the store, the cart already half full, when her usual helper from the group home finds us, deeming me useless.

  I could stay, but she’s aware I’m not fond of others and would use this lady’s arrival as my escape anyway, so she turns to me before I can.

  There’s a shadow in her dark eyes, one that has me pausing, but instead of voicing what’s crossed her mind, her hand finds my bicep and she squeezes. “Go on,” she orders quietly. “You know the way home.”

  For some reason, I feel compelled to say, “I’m good, Maybell.”

  She nods, the corner of her lips lifting. “You are, Tor. You will be.”

  I pinch my lips together, nodding and get out of the aisle as quickly as I can.

  I hate when she gets all crypto like that.

  On my way out, I buy a drink, taking a second to open it and breathe before cutting across a small park beside the building. I get halfway through the open field when my steps slow, only to come to a full-on halt seconds later.

  Across the road a sexy, sleek, black SUV I’d recognize anywhere is parked, and sitting right inside with the driver window rolled halfway down, is Captain.

  His chin is dropped to his chest, and I can’t tell from here, but I think his eyes are closed.

  Panic wraps around my ribs, squeezing like a tight rope, and I’m ready to run right for him, to make sure he’s okay, conscious and breathing, when suddenly his head pops up, the window rising with it.

  His door is shoved open, and he slams it closed behind him just as quickly. Phone in hand, Captain takes quick steps up a long, curving driveway, and right as he reaches the hilt, where the cement meets the stone steps leading to the front door, it opens... and all the air is forced from my airway as Mallory is revealed on the other side.

  As if my blood has turned to stone in my veins, the unexpected weight threatens to collapse my lungs and snap my ankles.

  I’m frozen in place, unable to look away, traitorous eyes glued on what may very well be the end of our beginning, on Ken and his Barbie, flawless, gorgeous.

  Made for each other.

  He says something, and I wish I knew what, as she answers with a smile.

  Mallory steps from the doorway, but keeps one hand inside, wrapped around the frame of the front door.

  The ice that froze me here must have fully taken over, numbing other parts of me, because I feel nothing when she grips his shirt as he likes to do with mine, gently pulling him closer, and it doesn’t sting when she angles her mouth to his and he does nothing to stop her.

  She’s cautious, almost slow motion in her advance, or maybe that’s how my mind decides to torture me, by slowing this nightmare down to make sure I can replay it with no moment left out.

  Her pink lips lock with his.

  Thick full lips I crave but am not allowed to touch.

  That refuse to touch mine.

  What’s worse than the kiss itself is Captain’s response, or lack thereof.

  He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t tear away, or shove her off.

  Her lips mold to his and he accepts them, accepts her.

  Her feet begin to shuffle backward, her lips still aligned with his, fists still tight on his shirt as she leads him the two steps from the porch to the entryway.

  She stares up at him, and he down at her as his foot makes the final move, officially placing him across the threshold.

  Blindly, Captain reaches behind him, closing them inside.

  As if the seal of the door shook the ground beneath me, cracked the earth to its core and released a molten lava right at my feet, the ice in my blood melts, and I’m flooded with everything at once.

  The ache and the burn and the venomous sting threaten to take me to my knees, but I refuse to fall.

  It’s a deserving pain, after all, so I welcome it, embrace it.

  “Fuck you doing, VicVee.” Royce’s voice suddenly meets my ear, and then he’s beside me, staring at the same door I can’t seem to pull my eyes from. “Go get your man.”

  I must shake my head because he asks with a heated undertone, “He not worth the fight, or are you too weak, not up for a challenge?”

  “He’s worth every hit, Royce. Every battle.” I’m surprised by the hollowness of my own voice, and he must be too, because his head snaps my way. Slowly, I meet his eyes. “I’d fight for what I want, and I can sure as shit handle it. I’m not too weak or afraid or anything else you might think or want to believe, not in the slightest.”

  He turns his body to face me better.

  “I’d go up against anything or anyone for him.”

  He frowns, whispering, “Except her.”

  I nod, and I’d go as far as to say he feels bad, not that I want him to.

  Royce looks away, heavy tension lining his forehead. “That’s fair, but that girl, she don’t deserve him.”

  If only he knew how true a statement that was.

  His footsteps carry him away, and then he calls, “Come on, girl. Let’s go home, huh?”

  Translation: let’s not sit here and see how long it takes him to come back out.

  “Did you know?” I call out.

  “That Cap is fucking his baby mama, who I’m half tempted to feed to the gorilla at the zoo?” he snaps. “Nah, can’t say I did.”

  He slips inside with a hard slam to his door, so I make my way over, climbing into the passenger seat of
his SUV.

  He puts it in gear but before he presses on the gas, his dark eyes swing to mine. He opens his mouth to speak, but then shakes his head and off we go.

  Only once on the drive back do I realize the timing was no accident, none of it. The trip to the store, Cap’s arrival, Royce and the ride home.

  Maybell knew what she was doing.

  She always does.

  The rest of the afternoon is a wasted pit of time, like staring at the sun in the peak of the day wishing for the moon to show himself.

  I’m about to give in and look to the clock I’ve forced my eyes not to touch when an engine dies out front, alerting us Captain’s finally back.

  The door flies open, and he rushes inside, quickly tossing his keys on the coffee table.

  “Hey,” he says, stiff and to no one in particular, his feet carrying him directly through the living room, right past us. “I talked to Dad, he said he just now convinced Zoey to leave the zoo.”

  Royce’s eyes stay locked on me as he talks to Captain. “Season pass is gettin’ its use, huh?”

  Captain chuckles, and it serves as the phantom to my dying opera. “I know, right?” His left foot hits the first stair, his gaze never even flicking in our direction. “Let me shower, and I’ll do dinner tonight.”

  A shower… why a shower?

  My stomach turns.

  Royce’s eyes tighten, moving between mine.

  I wait for him to call Cap out or at the very least put me on blast for ‘spying’, but all he does is reach beside him for a bottle of Crown, twist off the lid and take a swig. He passes it to me, answering Cap’s question even though he didn’t stick around to hear one, “Sounds good, brother.”

  I take the fucking bottle, knowing I’d have to consume more than this thing can hold in order to get drunk enough to hide from the visions in my head.

  I swish the golden liquid, eyes on Royce’s. “Got anything stronger?”

  Chapter 26

  Captain

  My tires crunch against the gravel, rocks flying around when I slam my brakes, but I don’t wait for the gate to be opened for me. I throw it in park, keys still inside, and hop the fuck out.

  Andre meets me halfway through the crowd, but I don’t stop to let him talk and as quick as he was in front of me, he’s behind.

  “She’s as bad as your brother’s girl, don’t listen for shit,” he shouts above the roar of the crowd.

  “I’m aware.” I shove the door to The Wolves Den the rest of the way open, but I’m not seeing her or my brother anywhere.

  “I wasn’t trippin’ much since your boy is with her,” he says. “And she seemed good when she got here, but uh… I don’t know about now.”

  My head snaps toward his and Andre slips in front of me with his hands raised, nodding with a tense look in his eyes. “Right side room, my man.”

  I rush for where he mentions, the room Victoria poured a drink on that Amber chick, reaching it right as the dude who makes drinks in here comes out with empty hands.

  He quickly disappears.

  I tear inside, and all heads fly my way—except Victoria’s.

  “Out,” I snap, eyes on my brother who is laid out on the couch, legs spread, and arms draped along the back of it, joint in one hand, Victoria in the other.

  The stray girls and guys rush by, and then it’s just us three and the music.

  Victoria’s head is dropped back, so when she opens her mouth, Royce’s arm is able to curl right around. He cages her in as he slips the joint between her lips.

  She inhales, holding it in as she leans forward, leisurely pushing to her feet, and takes the few steps to me.

  She blows the smoke into my face on a slow blink.

  “What are you doing?” I ground out.

  The corner of her lips lifts with her hands and suddenly she’s dancing, eyes closed, goofy-ass fuckin’ grin in place.

  “What’s she on?”

  Royce tilts his head. “A pill or four to do the job alcohol couldn’t.”

  “And you didn’t think to call me? Why?”

  He chuckles, dragging his ass to his feet as he stumbles toward me. “Because she asked me, that’s fuckin’ why. I wasn’t so sure you’d care, brother. She’s just a little liar, betrayed you, right? Broke trust? Showed no loyalty? Did one of the worst fuckin’ things she could do?” He eyes me a moment. “That’s why you spent the last month fighting how she makes you feel right? Why we spent the last fucking month hating her, ain’t it?”

  My head tugs back. “That’s why you brought her here?”

  “To see if you’d come for her?” He lifts his arms out, head swaying a bit. “Yup, and you did.”

  I study him, finding no hint of humor or sense of pride, nothing that shows his purpose for tonight was fulfilled by my showing up.

  A sharp twinge shoots up my spine, stiffening my neck. “What’s wrong?”

  He laughs, but it’s hollow, his hand coming down hard on my shoulder as he steps directly beside me, our heads turned toward each other. “Nothing, bro.” He eyes me. “Not a fuckin’ thing.”

  His shoulder knocks mine as he makes his way out, and worry pulls at my brows, but I shake it off, turning to Victoria.

  The lighting is low, the glow of the room a soft red and likely heightening her high.

  I move toward her and with every step my heart hits harder against my chest.

  She sways in ways I’ve yet to see, a snake-like rhythm I didn’t know she had.

  My stomach aches as I watch her, a sick and twisted pain that plays a lot like guilt.

  Beauty...

  Her eyes pop open meeting mine, and all her movement stops, her hands fall to her sides like dead weight, and her head begins to tip, too heavy for her to hold up any longer.

  That’s how med cocktails work, in spurts of energy, and then you’re like a fucking zombie to the outside world while living in your own twisted one.

  With a frown, I wrap my arm around her middle, scooping her in my arms and glance over my shoulder.

  Andre rushes up, talking into his earpiece and as quick as he’s called, more men are in front of us, clearing a path. Head after head turns our way, but nobody stares long and not a word is spoken.

  She laughs at nothing along the way, her eyes snapping around as if following a butterfly only she can see.

  Andre opens the gate wider so I can easily exit and pulls my passenger door open for me, disappearing just as quick.

  I lay her in the seat, reclining it so she’s able to lie back and reach across to buckle her in.

  She snaps from her little trance, a hand shooting out to cover mine on the seatbelt.

  I turn my head toward her, and she tilts hers.

  “My sweet Captain,” she rasps, her fingers coming up to skim along my jaw. Slowly, the pad of her thumb drags along my bottom lip only to come back to the center. She slides it down until my mouth is free from her touch and subconsciously my chin dips with her, fighting to keep the connection. “And his sweet, poisoned lips.”

  My brows pull in, and I touch her flushed face with the back of my hand. “You feelin’ okay?”

  She hums, her eyes closing as her hands leave me completely.

  I glide my knuckle along her jaw, my palm opening to brush across the silk of her skin, but she doesn’t move.

  She’s asleep.

  My sleeping beauty.

  I sigh, step back and close the door.

  The second I turn, knuckles come down across my chin and I fall back against the door.

  My head whips around, my body setting into fight mode in the same second, but I freeze when I find Royce standing there, his hand still in a fist at his side.

  He glares but says nothing and for some reason neither do I.

  I stand there silent as he tears the back door open and throws himself inside.

  It takes a minute for me to collect myself and then I call Maddoc.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “
I got ‘em.”

  “Why didn’t he answer?” he snaps.

  I shake my head, walking around to my side. “They’re fucked up. I don’t even know if he has his phone or not.”

  “Any trouble?”

  “Nah.” I climb inside, frowning, glancing at Royce over my shoulder. “They’re both already passed out. Guess they wanted to get fucked up.”

  Maddoc pauses. “Without us?”

  “Maybe ‘cause I’m a baby carrying buzz kill,” Raven offers, letting me know we’re on speakerphone.

  “Yeah.” I nod, tension lining my gut as I look at the small cut on my lip in the mirror.

  Maybe.

  Victoria

  When my eyes peel open, I freeze, close and reopen them, but when I do he’s still here, in my bed.

  Slowly, I sit up, and my head pounds instantly.

  A hangover? Seriously?

  I lick my lips, realizing how dry my mouth is and climb from the bed, all my clothes from last night still on, minus the shoes.

  I tiptoe to the bathroom, and right as I’m about to close the door, my eyes move back to the bed.

  Captain lies flat on his back, shirt off, staring right at me.

  The shit from yesterday comes crashing back like a truck to a tree, everything inside me bends and breaks on impact, reshaping what was never formed right in the first place.

  He kissed Mallory, probably had sex with her, and here he is, just fucked hair and worn out eyes to match, but there was no action in my bed.

  “What’s wrong?” he rasps.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Oh now you can tell when I’m lying or not?”

  His eyes narrow and he pushes into a sitting position.

  I lean against the frame. “You should go.”

  His frown deepens, but it’s the confusion in his eyes forcing mine away.

  “Go before Zoey comes looking.”

  “I told you before...” He trails off, clearly attempting to gauge me. “Let me worry about her.”

  I nod and slowly he drags himself to his feet, but he doesn’t walk out, he makes his way to me, and with every step, my ribs ache.