Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(63)

Brayshaw rules.

I nod, and he continues.

“No one is allowed here, but you know that already. No drugs are allowed in this house, but the weed in your bag will be fine once it’s where my daughter can’t reach.” He eyes me a long moment, then adds. “We eat dinner together, every night, no exceptions.”

“Oh shit,” Royce whispers with a small chuckle, and Maddoc smacks the back of his head.

Captain doesn’t look away. “If you can’t cook, we can teach you.” He pauses, and the tight pull at his shoulders eases some as he fights to let go. “Raven sucks, so don’t ask her for help.”

She laughs, and I find myself letting a small smile slip as his does, but he quickly clears his throat and walks away, only to come right back again.

His glare is hard, but his words are much, much more.

“Unpack your shit, Victoria. Now. Tonight. All of it. And sleep under the covers, not on top.”

And then he’s gone, and a dangerous, risky sensation runs through me.

Hope.

“Hey, uh, RaeRae, you should loan me your headphones tonight.”

My eyes fly to Royce’s and he pops a brow.

Raven laughs, dragging her man from the kitchen, and Royce follows them out.

I take a moment to breathe and then I head up to the room I was given and do exactly as Captain asked.

For the first time, I settle into my new home.





Chapter 19





Victoria



The sun is just coming up when my door opens and closes.

I stay facing the wall, waiting to see what he’ll do, having expected him hours ago.

There’s a light shuffle, and then silence.

Several minutes go by before he speaks.

“What did you mean earlier, what filth and ugly did you see? What kind of life did you live? Where did you live?”

A smile finds my lips.

Sweet Captain, stepping from behind his shield.

Slowly I flip over, finding he’s on the floor, his back positioned against the bed, head propped on it.

“I lived here until I was ten years old, in this town. After Donley stole me from Maria at the hospital, he basically put me in a room on the Graven Estate and left me there. I guess I was fed and taken care of as a baby because I lived, but I don’t exactly have anyone to ask about it.”

“What was the room like?” he asks.

“Big, almost like an apartment, I guess. It was cold and bare with a bath and small fridge, microwave when I got a little older and was trusted to use it.”

“No school?”

“Like with other kids?” I shake my head. “No, but for one hour a day, I had a teacher, but I think she was just another employee of the house, not a real one, and she wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine. She was emotionless and wouldn’t look at me. Not once in six years did she meet my eyes.”

I remember, when she’d leave, I’d stand in the center of the room with my eyes closed, a nasty little thing called hope in my na?ve heart, all for it to be crushed day in and out when then the lock on the other side would click, confirming what I already knew and expected—I was locked inside. Alone.

The crazy thing, or maybe it’s not so crazy, I don’t know, but I didn’t even care she left. I just wanted to see what the world looked like outside the door.

“Stop.”

My eyes fly to the back of his head, but before I can speak he does, “Stop thinking in your mind. Think out loud. Tell me. Talk to me.”

My chest tightens, and I nod even though he can’t see.

“I would talk to the walls, louder when I saw shadows beneath the door, but nobody ever opened it.”

“You were alone.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “But I didn’t hate it. I had a million dresses and nightgowns, a TV and...” I trail off, wishing I could see his face. “A garden.”

His head snaps right, but he doesn’t look at me, instead choosing to watch me in his peripheral.

“I was bored more than anything, so I would go out into the little yard attached, and daydream about climbing the wall, until one day I heard a couple kids playing somewhere near, and said, ‘fuck it’ and tried. I tried every day for years, but I never even got halfway up. The wall, it was blanketed in thorns and ivy.”

He swallows but says nothing.

“The man who would clean my room and bring my meals found me digging holes in the yard a few times. I was punished, no school for a week, which meant no human contact.” I smile into the pillow. “Naturally I dug deeper.”

Captain’s shoulders bounce with a quiet, huffed laugh.

“A couple days later, when the man found it again, he walked right out, and the morning after that I woke to my door being thrown open, and pallet after pallet of flowers were carried in, dropped onto the patio with a hand shovel and two pairs of gloves.” I smile into the darkness, tapping my fingertips along the satin pillowcase. “My time there sucked a lot less after that. Getting those, planting those, that’s when my life actually began. With a purple flower.”

“Purple...” he rasps.

Yeah, Cap. Purple.

He’s quiet a long moment before he says, “Thorns and ivy, purple flowers... your tattoo.”

“My tattoo.”