Braxton the Charmer

by Blue Saffire

I lean to bump his shoulder playfully, causing that crooked smile. It’s so swoon worthy and I’m not even a swooner. I reach to push his hair out of his forehead.

  “You’re growing up nice, Kid,” I smile at him. “Bet the girls are still going crazy over you.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I do okay,” he says through that smile.

  “Are you kidding? From what I’ve heard you’re the baby heartbreaker,” I laugh.

  “Whatever,” Brax frowns.

  I study his face. I can always tell when Brax is agitated. I didn’t mean for my comment to change his mood. He looks down at his beer, before bringing it to his lips to drain it.

  “What? I didn’t mean to offend you,” I say softly.

  “You of all people shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he says a little harshly, taking me back a bit.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Nice tats,” he mutters, looking at both of my arms.

  “Don’t change the subject,” I want to commit to the conversation he started. I didn’t like the accusation in his voice.

  Braxton blows out a breath and pops the cap off another beer, handing it over to me. He then moves to open another for himself. I take a sip, watching him and waiting for his response.

  “You’re not into girls. That rumor started in high school, you never tried to correct it. You just let everyone say what they wanted to say,” Braxton turns to me and locks eyes.

  I don’t know what makes me deny his words. I have a few friends back in New York that know the truth. They were the ones that were willing to ask. So, I told them the truth. Yet, here I am about to lie to one of my oldest friends.

  “Who says it isn’t true?” I tilt my head and watch him.

  Braxton narrows his eyes at me. He turns to lean forward, placing his beer on the mixed coffee table ottoman. When he turns back to me, his face is more serious than I’ve ever seen it.

  “Play with everyone else, but don’t try that shit with me. I know you. I know you better than anyone else. I came in here thinking we could be real with each other the way we used to be. Clearly, one of us has grown up and the other one hasn’t,” he stands, giving me one more once over.

  Pointing between us, his words keep coming. “You feel this just like I do. You’re not gay, Heather, because you’re my other half. You’re the rib I’m missing. I guess I was wrong, we’re still not ready,” with that Brax walks out.

  I’m left sitting on the couch with my mouth hanging open. I look down into my lap, wondering did I have way too much to drink. Or did an eighteen-year-old just hand me my face on a platter?

  In my head, I know nothing can happen between us. Braxton is way too young for me. So why in the hell is my chest burning?

  What the hell just happened?

  Chapter 13

  Ruined

  Braxton

  How is it possible to be ruined at such a young age? I’ve never even kissed her and I know I’m ruined. I’ve always known who my heart belonged to.

  I never had a choice in the matter. I now know that tugging in my chest was her stealing my heart, even as it beat in its cage. I just didn’t know she would repeatedly step on it.

  I knew the risk I was taking last night. I just expected Heather to be real with me. I didn’t think she would try to sell me bullshit. I know my temper can be short, but I just couldn’t sit there while she tried to sell me a lie.

  I mean, come on. I could almost taste the energy that was pulsing between us. I saw it in her eyes, she felt it too. Not just in the guesthouse. I felt her reaction to me, when I hugged her the day she first got back.

  Still, it’s Heather, so I would never point any of that out. I damn sure won’t rush her into anything. Although, if she wants to play games, she can play them by herself.

  I know what I want. I’ve been ruined for years. It’s Heather or nothing for me. I’m always honest when I hook up with chicks. It means nothing to me, it’s a good time and a way for me to perfect my skills, that’s all.

  Now with Heather back home. I don’t even want that. Ruined, I tell you. Ruined and feeling like a straight pussy.

  Heather

  It wasn’t the alcohol. When I woke this morning, and thought about what happened, most of it wasn’t even about Brax’s age. I’m ruined. I wouldn’t know how to have a real relationship.

  I panic at the thought of even going on a date, the expectations it all leads to. Knowing I have to share control or release the control I’ve created for myself, the thought freaks me out. I don’t have that kind of trust.

  I always feel like guys are only nice for one reason. For four years, I tried to tell myself I’m being crazy. Dad gives Faith the world. Uncle Joe treats Aunt Cass like a queen. I’ve seen healthy relationships, but it’s the one toxic relationship that’s made the biggest imprint on my life.

  Watching my mom with Ernest, along with seeing the person Ernest truly was, fucked me up. It goes beyond him being a perv. In my head, gifts and affection are given to excuse hurt.

  Ruined, there is no other way to put it. I can’t even think about a relationship with someone four years younger than me. No, Braxton turning eighteen or twenty-two wouldn’t make much of a difference. I’m damaged to my core, ruined beyond repair. I still fear my own reflection at times, thanks to Ernest.

  A relationship requires confidence I don’t have. I could never trade in my most trusted friendship for something I’m so unsure of. I loathe the hurt I saw in Braxton’s eyes, but its far better than the hurt I know I’ll put there later.

  Hell, I pray every day that people continue to assume they know me. It’s easier to pretend, rather than to have to be a part of what people perceive as normal. To pretend is to hide my damage.

  The truth gives hope, and I’ve had hope snatched away. That’s the real reason I’m back home. The truth, I got a call from my mom. Or at least, I thought it was my mom.

  Her name came up attached to the number. When I answered, it wasn’t my mom’s voice that greeted me. It was my sister’s. The sister I’ve never met.

  “Please don’t hang up,” she said softly into the phone. “I’d get into so much trouble for calling you, but I had to.”

  “Who is this?” I said slowly, not putting two and two together quickly enough.

  I was so crushed not to hear my mother’s voice. After all these years, I still hold out hope that she does miss me and think of me. I may not show it, but I miss her and it still hurts.

  “It’s me, Amanda,” the girl whispered. “I’m your sister.”

  I think the wind had been knocked out of my chest. I just sat on my bed, staring out of the window, onto the busy New York street below. I’d heard mom had another kid. I knew I had a sister, but hearing her voice made it real.

  “I…I just want to get to know you. Mom says you’re in New York, away at school. I think that’s so cool. I just want to be friends. We can text or something. You’re my sister,” the sadness in her voice tugged so hard at my chest.

  I spent an hour on the phone getting to know my ten-year-old kid sister. We started to talk every Friday after that. I accepted the truth of having a little sister. Somehow, talking to her gave me so much hope.

  Until one day, her call didn’t come. That hope I had slipped through my fingers, as one week, then another week passed. I haven’t heard from Amanda since.

  The sane part of me, told me to stay in New York and forget about her. The masochist in me, dragged my ass back here to California. You see, ruined. I had freedom, light was at the end of my tunnel, but I turned back to the place where my demons have been awaiting me.

  Ruined.

  Chapter 14

  Family

  Heather

  One year later…

  I’ve laughed so hard tonight, my face hurts. I love the McGowans and the O’Briens. Braxton’s cousins and uncles are a riot. The moment I heard all of their distinct accents fill the office, I kne
w I was going to be in for a good laugh.

  Logan, Brooklyn, Jamie, and Dylan have Irish accents, laced with years of being New Yorkers. Aunt Cass’s brothers and their sons all sound like Irish Northerners. You have to listen closely to catch what they’re saying most of the time, but when you catch their words, they’re sure to make you laugh.

  I have no idea what brings them all to town, but I’m so glad they’re here. Things have been stressful, between working with Braxton day in and day out, with both of us ignoring that night in the guesthouse. Then, there’s the reason I’m here in California to begin with.

  The best way I knew how to find out what’s going on with my sister was to go work for Dad at the firm. Amanda was ten, when she first reached out to me. I found that ironic then.

  It took a few months, but I found out all I could about my little sister, my mother, and her husband. Ernest is still a big shot greasy lawyer and he’s still connected to the Albanian crime family.

  When I asked Wyatt about the Albanian sec, he drilled me with questions for hours, before warning me to stay away. I never told him my real reasons for my asking. I’m not even sure if he bought into my bullshit excuses. Although, he made himself clear on the kind of danger I’d be getting myself into.

  It’s one of the reasons I’ve kept my distance. From the shadows, I check in periodically on Amanda. All I ever wanted was to make sure my little sister was alright.

  For the last year, I’ve been so tense. I don’t want to cause trouble for my sister. She was so worried about someone finding out about her reaching out to me. I never did get to the bottom of that concern. I just know it is always unsettling to think of harm coming to her if someone finds out.

  For that reason and that reason alone, I haven’t made my presence known to her. I have to be content with seeing that she’s okay from a distance. It’s been driving me crazy. This banter and laughter is just what I needed, before I started to become unglued.

  “Remember not to run yer gub when ye get back home,” Uncle Ronan teases Ry. “Last time we went out on the lash, he got langered and told Cass everything.”

  “Aye, Cass went mad as a box of frogs on us,” Uncle Raymond chuckles.

  “Right she was, ye shut yer bake this time or we’re never taking ye out again,” Uncle Jack teases in warning.

  Ryan’s face turns red from all the teasing. He’s only eighteen, I’m sure the last time he was dragged into his uncles and cousins’ antics, he hadn’t learned to hold his liquor yet. Heck, his eyes are a little glassy now.

  “I can hold my own now,” Ry says with a bit of a pout.

  “Your mother will see right through you,” Uncle Joe laughs, shaking his head at his son.

  We could all get into so much trouble for having Brax and Ryan here with us. However, we all strolled right into this bar like we owned the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to question this group of giants. Besides, Bean knows the head bartender here.

  Fortunately, they’ve been serving our group without question. We’ve been teasing and laughing for the better part of the last two hours. My heart swells, as I remember the huge smile Aunt Cass had back at the office. She’s always so proud of her brothers and nephews.

  “I could eat a reverend’s mother,” Carrick groans. “Where are those wings we ordered?”

  “You’re always hungry,” Logan murmurs into his glass of beer, grinning over the rim.

  Logan O’Brien is a handsome man. When he smiles it lights up his green eyes and takes over his face. The O’Briens favor the Blacks a lot, other than their eye color.

  “Why do ye think I order so much? Ye’d think I don’t have a mouth on me. He’ll try to eat the whole shebang, he’ll eat it all he will,” Jeremiah snorts.

  “Aye, I have to get me strength up. Did you see the lass in the blue dress? I need to lend her me ear for the evening,” Carrick croons, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “Lend her your ear?” I burst out into laughter.

  “Aye, she can scream me name as much as she likes,” he replies with a wink.

  I shake my head at Carrick. He’s a flirt, but harmless, much like the rest of them.

  “Ye have a glad eye for every girl with a pulse. Which one was in the blue dress? I stopped looking an hour ago, I’ve see one too many lasses that are caked,” Jeremiah chimes in.

  “Caked?” Bean giggles.

  “Aye, too much makeup for me liking,” Jeremiah replies with a deep frown.

  “I saw the one he’s talking about,” Brooklyn grins. “Carrick has a bit of sweet tooth.”

  Carrick shrugs, crooning before he licks his lips. “I like the way she fills her knickers.”

  “I think it’s time for me to call it a night,” Uncle Joe stands and begins to stretch.

  “Aye, I’m riding with you. I’m getting to oul for this,” Uncle Jonah groans.

  “Speak for yerself, I’ve not gotten oul yet,” Uncle Jack grumbles. “I came for more than business. First time me wife is not breathing down me neck. Aye, I plan to enjoy it, enjoy it I will.”

  Dylan and Jamie roll their lips and try not to burst into laughter. I cover my own mouth trying to do the same. Others at the table are not as successful.

  “Aye, I plan to stick around for a bit,” Uncle Ronan nods. “Not every day I get to hang with my growing nephews.”

  I feel my lips turn up, as I see the sparkle in Uncle Ronan’s eyes when he looks proudly at Braxton. It’s clear to see the two have a bond. I can see why, Uncle Ronan is a trip himself.

  “I’ll head out with ye fellas,” Uncle Raymond yawns. He stands and leans to kiss first the top of Bean’s head, then mine. “It was a pleasure to see ye lasses again. I hope youse make the next trip to Ireland, Aye?”

  “We hope so too,” Bean beams.

  I nod my agreement. I’m sure it would be a blast. Dad’s been talking about going for a visit off and on for a while. Faith has been asking to go, she’s never been.

  Everyone that’s leaving passes around their goodbyes. The laughter and joking continue, despite our group getting smaller. The food finally arrives a few minutes later. We all enjoy more beer and laughter while inhaling the wings and other appetizers that were ordered.

  I’m in the middle of scoffing down chips and spinach and artichoke dip, when the air shifts a bit at the table. I look up from my food to see the scowl on Logan’s face and Brooklyn’s rigid posture. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  I know right away something is up. I turn to see a group of guys that have just entered the bar. They don’t look like the type that usually come here. I turn back to Logan and Brooklyn to see their heads bent together.

  Bean decides in that moment she wants to get up to go to the restroom. I guess she’s too drunk to see what’s going on so I decide to go with her. I’m not surprised when Noah gets up to follow us.

  I’m nervous to get out of the bathroom the whole time I wait for Bean to finish up. Something in my gut tells me this night has changed for the worse. Those guys were bad news.

  When we exit the bathroom, Noah is standing outside like a sentinel. He follows Bean and me back to our table. Just before we get there, one of the guys from earlier, reaches out to pinch my elbow.

  “Hey gorgeous,” he purrs.

  My skin starts to crawl and I cringe. Noah jumps into the guys face swiftly. It’s so fast, wondering how he got in front of me so quickly, I look behind me to where Noah once was.

  “You’ll want to keep your fucking hands to yourself before I break them,” Noah hisses in a calm voice that contradicts his face.

  “My bad, didn’t know they both belonged to you,” the guy chuckles.

  “Do I look like I’m joking asshole,” Noah snarls back.

  “Do we have a problem?” Uncle Jack asks, as he steps up.

  “Not at all,” the guy smiles, showing yellow teeth.

  “Good,” Uncle Jack nods, placing a hand on Bean’s back, then mine.

  He leads us both back to t
he table. I’ve lost my appetite. I look over to Braxton, who’s been sitting next to me all night. His eyes are narrowed on the guy that touched me. Uncle Ronan looks ready to restrain Brax at any moment, which means he’s probably already tried to fly across the bar.

  “Aye, well, this night isn’t done getting interesting,” Brooklyn huffs.

  Just then two other guys from the undesirable group stop right at our table. Everyone else has fallen silent. Even the other tables around us have grown quiet. I coil for a fight on instinct. My nerves are shot at this point.

  “Would you look at this?” The dark haired one of the two speaks first. “Don’t you boys think you should’ve checked in if you were going to be in my city?”

  Logan stands to his full imposing height, towering over the dark haired guy. His muscles in his arms seem to have doubled with the move. His green eyes have become so hard and unyielding. The twinkle and mirth from earlier are completely gone.

  Logan snorts. “Aye, I did. I checked in with yer mother.”

  “You piece of shit,” the dark haired guy growls, while the other guy moves to restrain him.

  At this point, some of the patrons in the bar start to clear out. I guess I’m not the only one that sees this is about to get out of hand. I ball one fist in my lap, but reach for the neck of the long neck beer I’ve been sipping.

  “I’ve not sold my balls, so I don’t think I’ll ever be checking in with the likes of ye. I go where the fuck I want to go. Do yerself a favor, stop trying to make a name off of me and get the fuck out of my face,” Logan hisses.

  “Make a name off of you? Do you have any idea who the fuck you’re talking to?” He snarls back.

  All at once, every Black, O’Brien, and McGowan left at the table stand. It’s like watching mountains shift into formation. I sit with my mouth hanging open. You can feel the power and danger rolling around the table.

  “I think the question is do ye have any idea who the fuck ye are talking to?” Carrick says flatly.