Every muscle in my body locks, my neck likely burning a bright fucking red as Captain comes strolling in and in no particular hurry, a little glare testing across his forehead.
The teacher pauses, saying not a word as he does, knowing if she did it would only mean trouble for her.
I don’t have to look to know every eye in this room has shifted this way.
Captain plants one firm palm on my desk, leaning over until I’m forced to look up.
He knows I hate this... which is exactly why he’s doing it.
He grips the back of my neck, bringing his mouth to mine so he can speak against my lips, quiet and only for me. “You asked to be mine, that means you don’t look, talk, touch anyone else. Do you understand?”
“No one else...” I whisper, intentionally ignoring his entire point. “Does this mean I’ve got the golden stamp to touch you?”
“My knuckles are brass, beauty. I’ve got no use for anything golden.”
I don’t miss how his eyes cut to my hair as he says it, and his comment about Mallory flashes in my head.
He pushes to his full height, a sick satisfaction gleaming in his blue-green eyes as he gets set to push his point, making me the center of attention.
To piss me off.
Captain’s command is purposeful and clear, and loud enough for all to hear.
“Behave.”
Shit head.
Chapter 11
Captain
“I’m fucked.” I plant my ass onto the bleacher beside Maddoc.
“Let me guess, you wanna wring her fuckin’ neck, then lick the bruises?” he gives me a quick side smirk, laughing at my expression.
Because yes, exactly fucking that.
“I don’t know, man. Thought she’d fight me, not—”
“Fight for you?” Maddoc lifts a brow.
I nod.
“Why don’t you lock her ass in a room with the fake file we have on her, and force her to talk?”
I scoff. “I lock myself in a room with that girl and there will be no talking.”
“That bad?” Royce drops beside us, nodding for a towel.
I toss him one. “I caged her in the first fucking night, ready to just—”
“Go to pound town?” Royce laughs.
I chuckle. “Ended up telling her I wanted to bend her over.”
Both grin, only for their jaws to drop when I add, “So I could picture Mallory while I fucked her.”
The shock hits but wears off quick and they bust up laughing.
“That’s cold, my man.” Royce grins, proud, reaching out for a fist bump, but I leave him hanging. “Genius, but cold. I think I’ll take credit for that one.”
Maddoc shakes his head, then shrugs. “Still say if you want her, have her. You don’t have to trust her to fuck her.”
“Damn if that isn’t a true ass statement.” Royce grins. “Only chick I trust is Raven, and she’s ‘bout the only one I can’t fuck,” he jokes, shoving at Maddoc with his elbow.
Maddoc pushes him off the bench and he hops up, laughing.
The bell rings, so we stand with him, gather our shit, and head to the locker room. As we step through the double doors, James Carpo, our former head of security for all Brayshaw operations, comes around the corner in a crisp, black suit.
“Boys. I’d heard you were back today, but I didn’t have time to say hello this morning.”
“Lookin’ good, James.” Royce nods.
He scoffs. “If I had known becoming principal of a high school was harder than managing the entire town’s safety, I’d have never agreed to this.”
“Hey, it’s a good compromise. You have to stay involved; we need you,” I tell him.
“I’m pretty sure my daughter doesn’t share your sentiment.” He chuckles. “She’s not so happy I’m here.”
“Ah, she’ll come around, doesn’t take much to please Chloe,” Royce adds with a smirk.
James levels him with a stern look. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Nah, my man.” Royce pats his shoulder, stepping around him. “You mean, you’re gonna try and forget I did. Good luck with that, James!” he shouts from inside the locker room door.
I fight a laugh while James looks ready to puke.
Maddoc watches Royce go before turning back to James. “You got eyes on Raven?”
“Am I tracking her every move like you asked me to?” James lifts his brows.
My eyes snap to Maddoc.
“Yes,” he says.
“No,” James responds.
I quickly put my shoulder between them, knowing Maddoc’s advance was coming.
“That wasn’t a request.” Maddoc speaks slow.
“I can’t invade the privacy of the head of this town without her permission,” James tells him calmly.
“I put a fucking kid inside her. That is permission enough.” Maddoc’s shoulder begins to push against my back.
James, though, he smiles at him, used to his aggressive nature and proud of his fierce protection over his girl. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Brayshaw and see what I can do. See you guys later.”
Maddoc shoves into the locker room with me on his tail.
“You know she’s gonna tell him to kiss her ass, right?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m working on the doctor, need her forced into bed rest, so I can keep her ass locked at home until she’s stronger.”
I laugh. “She’s pregnant, not broken.”
“Then why’s everything hurt her?” he shouts.
“She say that?”
He scoffs, giving an incredulous glare. “Yeah, fuckin’ right, Cap, but I can tell. She’s exhausted, makes all these faces when she moves, like she’s stepping on thorns and shit. It’s her feet, her back, her fucking tits.” His eyes widen. “Swear to God, if her puss—”
“Cut it, brother.” I lift my palms and walk away, but the second I get under the warm spray of the shower, an unexpected and unwelcome question begins to swim inside my head.
I try to refocus, force my thoughts to anything other than where they’ve suddenly taken me, but it’s no use.
The things he’s describing in Raven, the things we’ve all began to notice, the swell of her stomach as her child starts to grow, the little cravings and mood swings, the added sentiment behind her eyes and lost look she gets when she’s quiet, I wonder... are those things Mallory experienced while pregnant, too, but alone?
And if she did, how the fuck could she go through all that, and still walk away from our baby girl in the end?
Was it easy for her or hard?
Did she give a damn at all?
Did she ever even hold her?
Did my baby girl lie alone, uncomforted and unwanted her first days in this world?
A deep, crushing ache falls on my chest and I fight for a slow inhale.
The pain has nothing to do with the girl who picked a different path than the one I gave her, and everything to do with the little girl waiting for me at home. For a love that was foreign but felt the moment I knew she was out there somewhere.
I didn’t have to see her to love her.
I needed no convincing to keep her.
The second I found the hospital birthing records with Mallory’s name all over them hidden deep inside my gym bag, it was as if an invisible weight lifted, like somehow deep down I was aware something was missing, and learning Zoey was out there filled a hole I never knew had been dug.
Mallory lost out on more than she’ll ever know, but Zoey never will.
I’ll adore her enough for us both, as will my family.
She’ll lack no love.
I’m stuck in my own head the remainder of the day. I don’t remember speaking to anyone or even eating at lunch. All I’ve been doing is waiting for the bell to ring so I could get the hell out and home.
I round the corner, headed toward the main entrance and a grin pulls at my lips.
Guess the others felt the same.
They’re waiting in the hall, ready to get out of here. With basketball season over, we’ve got nothing forcing us to stay after school.
We head straight for the truck, but when I spot Victoria eyeing Chloe and her friends across the parking lot, head tipped with a slight pinch of her dark brows, I pause beside her.
“Leave it alone, she’s with Mac now.”
It takes her a long moment, but then she glances my way, her expression blank, and shoulders past me until she’s sliding into the back seat with Royce. Raven tries to slip in after her, but Maddoc beats her with a glare.
With a playful eye roll, she climbs up front as I walk around and get in the driver seat.
“Was it as bad as you thought?” I ask Raven.
She shrugs. “I don’t really care, but even so, nobody said a damn word about the two extra stomachs attached to me.”
We chuckle, and I catch a small grin on Victoria’s face, but she wipes it away quickly, anxiety blanketing her features the farther down the street we get.
Minutes later, we’re pulling onto Bray grounds, past the group home and into the clearing that allows us a view of the mansion.
The tension in my chest eases as I spot her.
My little world.
“Look at her.” Royce sits forward in the back seat, smiling out the front windshield.
Zoey starts stomping her feet, trying to tug free from our dad’s hand as we roll closer to the porch, but he doesn’t free her quite yet.
She starts waving, and even though I can’t hear it, the sound of her little laughter fills my ears, and an unexplainable warmth flows through my veins.
This is it.
This is what I’ve dreamt about for so long, coming home to my baby girl waiting for me at our home. I didn’t realize it would be as hard as it was to leave her here today. When I’d go visit her, when Maria cared for her, an overwhelming sense of guilt weighed my every step. I thought it would be different when she was home, but it’s not. I felt her absence all day.
As soon as the engine is off, and my door is open, Dad lets her go and she comes charging down the steps, right into my open and waiting arms.
“Hi, Zo.” I hug her to me, quickly pulling back so I can look at her. “Did you miss me?”
“Uh-huh!” her smile is wide, her little feet kicking. “You’re all done now?”
I squeeze her tighter. “All done for today.”
I know she might not understand what I’m saying fully, but she throws her little fists up anyway.
“Yay!” She laughs, then shifts to look at the others climbing out.
I tense, but my muscles relax when Victoria keeps herself sitting inside.
Zoey wiggles in my arms, so I set her down and it’s Royce she runs to first.
“Zoey Bear!” he shouts as he dips down, lifts her up and tosses her in the air.
“Uncle Bro!” She laughs back, kisses his cheek then kicks again to be let go.
“You tryin’ to ditch me already?”
“Baby’s turn!”
Royce tickles her, and she throws her head back laughing.
“Fine.” He pretends to pout. “Baby’s turn.” He puts her down, watching as she runs over to Raven.
Raven pulls her lips between her teeth, and slowly lowers herself onto the porch steps so Zoey can drop beside her, same as she does for her every day, getting on Zoey’s level.
Zoey smiles, tugging her shoulders up to her cheeks, then reaches out and gently pats Raven’s stomach. She leans forward, thinking she’s whispering but her little voice is loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Hi, baby.” She giggles at herself. “Hi bestest friend. Are you sleeping?” She lifts her eyes to Raven. “Is baby sleeping?”
A gentle smile, a new one for her, graces Raven’s lips. “Do you think baby is sleeping?”
“Yes!” Zoey shouts, making us all laugh.
It’s the same exact question every day, and Raven plays along each time.
“Then I think so, too.” She winks, raising her eyes to Maddoc.
Of the three of them, Maddoc is the most timid with Zoey. I’m not so sure it’s nerves as it is maybe he’s afraid.
Outside of us, Raven is the first person he’s ever loved, but every time he looks at my daughter, at his niece, it’s not hard to spot the tenderness there.
I’m almost positive it terrifies him, makes him fear how hard he’ll love his own baby, and I get it. It’s the most powerful feeling I’ve ever known, but I can’t help and wonder if he’s fearful of loving someone more than he does Raven.
I can’t answer that for him, though, because I have no clue how it works, the love of your woman in comparison to the love of your child.
I imagine it’s different, but just as strong.
I look to our dad, who pointedly shifts his eyes to my SUV only to bring them right back, a heavy, disapproving frown carved across his forehead.
“Son.”
“Don’t,” I warn. “She deserves no part of this and she knows it.”
“You saying she wasn’t warned to drag behind?”
“Does it matter?”
His eyes narrow as he attempts to read the thought behind mine. “I’m thinking, yeah, it does. It’s a sign of respect.”
“Or fear of what we’d do.”
“It ain’t fear.” Royce steps up with a shrug. “If she was afraid, she never would have hid shit from us, and when we found out, she’d have tried to run. The girl lived on our property, in our group home. She went to our school, walked up in our house, lies and all. Someone afraid wouldn’t do any of that.”
“I have to agree,” our dad says, sliding his hands in his pockets.
“Maybe she’s a master con artist, and you’re both wrong.”
“Maybe she is, son.” He nods. “But maybe not.”
Royce frowns at our dad, but I shake him off. Now is not the time for this shit.
I waited all day to get home to my daughter, I won’t allow a deceiving blonde to take a second of my time.
I turn away from them both, kneeling in front of Zoey. “Daddy’s hungry, Zo. Wanna help me make a snack?”
“Me, too?” She smiles.
“Yeah, you, too.” I laugh.
“And Uncle Bro too!” Royce adds, scooping her up and helicoptering her into the house, but not before pausing and turning to Maddoc. “You wish you had a cool nickname, bro.”
Maddoc scoffs, but with a grin. “My kid’s gonna call you Uncle Dumbass.”
“Nah... your kid’s gonna call me daddy,” Royce throws right as he runs off.
Raven laughs, gripping Maddoc by the arm before he can chase after him.
We step inside, not one of us bothering to glance back at the girl left alone in the back seat.
* * *
I unbuckle Zoey from her car seat, and she hops right out, dashing across the driveway until she reaches the porch steps.
“Oh no!” She freezes, turning back right as I begin following. “My train!”
Maybell walks out right then, and I smile from her to Zo. “I’ll get it, baby girl. Go inside with Miss Maybell.”
“Okay!” Zoey grabs her hand and Maybell laughs as she drags her into the house.
I walk to the vehicle and open the back to grab her stuffed train when a streak of blonde catches my eye around the right side of the house.
Victoria must have seen us pull up and went out the back.
I close the door, tracking her movement and instead of sticking by the flowers this time, she searches across the mounds, picking one that looks ready to die and carries it to the farthest side of the pool. She chooses the only spot with the little bit of sunlight left and lies back, placing the flower on her chest right as her eyes close.
I head inside, make sure Zoey is good with Maybell, and take the stairs two at a time toward Victoria’s room.
The door is shut, but I had her lock removed, so I push it open with ease.
A quick, resilient burn fires d
own my throat as my senses are assaulted, a heavy mix of lavender and mint, sun and fucking sin, the only proof she lives inside these walls.
I had the room completely remodeled for her when I thought her place here was starting a lot differently.
Fresh paint and brand new furniture, a bright chandelier to match.
I wasn’t sure what her style would be, but satin seemed fitting and the colors are soft with some royal blue among the room, the crystals hanging from above offering a ray of light throughout where the sun or moon can’t reach.
Annoyance flares when I look in her closet, finding her small selection of clothes still neatly folded inside her bags, the hangers and drawers all empty, bed pristinely made as if she’s never even slept in it.
The two small blankets laying over the reading chair lead me to believe she hasn’t. The computer is off, curtain’s still drawn up the way they were the day it was prepared for her—before we found out she purposely withheld information from us.
She hasn’t settled in the slightest fucking bit.
I should be happy about that, her understanding she’s got no guarantee.
So why am I more pissed off than I was walking in here?
I grab her backpack and unzip it, pulling out her notebooks and binders before stuffing them back and looking into the small front pockets.
I glare at the near-empty baggie of weed stuffed inside, a half pack of Zig-Zags beneath it.
I zip it up and toss it back in the corner she had it in, kicking over the small garbage can, but there’s nothing in there but pencil shavings, the bedside drawers are empty, too.
What the fuck?
Next, I move into her private bathroom.
At least this area is being used. There’s a towel hanging over the rack and a small, open makeup pouch sitting on the counter. I glance inside, but it’s all normal bullshit.
Faded jeans sit on the top of a small laundry basket, so I grab them, checking the pockets. My brows lift as I feel something inside, but all I find is a sucker wrapper, a couple quarters, and a dollar receipt for a school newspaper.
I stuff it back, and drop the jeans, making my way to the window. My hands stretch across the frame as I stare out at her.
BE MY BRAYSHAW Page 12
