Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(74)

Maddoc slid into the driver’s seat, knowing I would need to sit in the back. He keeps trying to meet my eyes in the mirror, but I can’t look away from Zoey.

My phone beeps again, and my eyes close.

Goddamn it.

My brothers’ phones have yet to ring, that can only mean one thing.

It’s her.

Begrudgingly and with a grip so tight my knuckles are white, I pull my phone from my pocket and glare at the screen, at the name I haven’t seen glowing across it in years and never wanted to again, but would have given everything for at one point in time.

When I loved her, and I swore she loved me back.

One day she was here, and the next she was gone.

I wigged out, searched for her only to find nothing. The girl I was in love with had vanished into thin air, but as quickly as the worry came, it was replaced with resentment, because in our town, there is no such thing as gone at random.

To be gone with no trail to follow meant one thing—she made the choice to go, and had help.

When she popped back up, eleven months later, she was no longer a Bray Girl, but weaseled her way into Graven Prep.

To turn your back on a Brayshaw was like a stamp of approval, they welcomed traitors to their family with open arms and promises, but by that point, I didn’t care in the slightest.

That’s because I didn’t know the reason she had left was to hide her pregnancy, to have and discard my child, to try and pretend she didn’t exist and hope I was none the wiser.

I wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for the documents given to me, sharing the hidden news.

Victoria.

My head snaps over my shoulder, to the third-row seat where she’s pushed against the window farthest from me, staring straight out it with a wretched expression, elbow perched on the doorframe, thumbnail sliding across her chin.

Slowly her eyes make their way to mine and hold.

A deep, chocolate, brown.

Not blue.

Not blue?

My head flies forward, my eyes closing.

Fuck.

My stomach twists even more.

I shut off my phone, not opening the six-message thread waiting for me.

“Pull over,” I rasp, and all eyes are suddenly on me.

“Cap?” Maddoc frowns from the road to me.

We’re still a good twenty-minute drive from home, but I’m suffocating in this fucking thing.

“Pull over, man.”

He does, and I climb out into the fresh air, nothing but a two-lane highway seen for miles. I take a deep breath, ready to close the door when suddenly Royce’s shoes hit the ground beside me.

I look to my dad, and he gives a curt nod, shifting closer to Zoey’s car seat, so I close the door, and off they go.

It takes us well over an hour to get home, not a word spoken the entire time.

That’s one of my favorite things about my brother, his silent support, always there and never pushing.

As we walk up the steps, he turns to me with tension in his eyes, but he only clamps my shoulder and nods, disappearing inside while I drop onto my ass and look out over the driveway, at the orchard and the long road between them.

I pull my phone from my pocket, turn it on and read through Mallory’s messages.

My shoulders fall, and then Zoey’s voice flows through me, her sweet little call, and gentle laugh.

I look over to find her running my way, Easter basket overflowing with eggs, my dad, Raven and Maddoc trailing her, eggs in all their hands, a trail of some dropped behind them.

I laugh, and it tugs at my insides.

“Daddy, hu-mon!” She smiles.

Right then, her little hand lifts, brushing her curls aside.

Something her mother does.

Exactly the way her mother does.

How did I not connect the move sooner?

How could she share anything with a person she doesn’t even know?

A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow past it, my eyes falling to my phone again. I hold my breath, responding with a single, two-letter word.

I turn, set it down and hop off the porch with a smile. “I’m coming, baby girl.”

Daddy’s coming.





Victoria





Two days have come and gone since Easter, and while he keeps me at his side at school, and pulls me close when home, Captain’s lost in his own mind.

Each night that’s passed, his footsteps pad against the floor, my chest rising with each one closer he grows, only to leave me in knots when they disappear, but tonight, the shadow of him hesitates beneath my door.

He stands there, right outside, and I hold my breath, waiting.

He steps inside.

He doesn’t bother closing it behind him, doesn’t speak, but his eyes find mine in the dark, and slowly, he slides beneath my covers, lying on his side so he can face me head-on.

His eyes are rimmed with dark circles, proof he hasn’t slept, and his body sags with the weight of the world, but he doesn’t let anyone into his.

As far as I can tell, he’s held it all in so far.

Captain reaches out, and I force myself not to frown as his knuckles bypass my jaw when they normally glide along it, but instead slide into my hair.

My blonde hair.

He kisses along my jaw, down my chest until his lips are settled on my breastbone. When my legs fall open for him, he climbs between them.

I run my hands along his skin, letting him take what he needs, feel what he wants and kiss wherever he chooses, wishing he’d finally kiss my lips.