Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(90)

Naturally, as one does when they’re consumed with more than they can handle, drowning with no sight of the surface, he pushes harder, cuts deeper.

I see it in his eyes, the resolve, the cut of the cord he was barely hanging on to.

His shoulders square, eyes narrowing as his lip curls.

“Maybe it’s good your mother was murdered,” he growls.

“Captain!” Raven snaps.

He ignores her, creeps closer, bending so we’re eye level. “My dad might have shown your mother mercy when she fucked up and stepped over the line, but I won’t be so kind with you.”

That burns a fire under my own skin, and I punch him clear across the fucking jaw.

“Oh shit,” comes from Royce, but nobody moves in.

Captain’s head snaps to the side, the corner of his lip busting, but I wait until he drags it back to speak.

“Fuck you, dick. I would never do a damn thing to take her from her home, and I don’t give a flying fuck if you believe me or not. At this point, I almost hope you don’t just so you feel like a helpless little bitch a time or two when you realize I’m not the fucking bad guy here.” I push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “You have no idea how fucked what you’re saying is,” I force past clenched teeth. “But if I have to be the bad guy to make you feel better, fine. Consider me warned, Cap. And fuck right off.”

I shove again, pushing past him when he calls, “Try and leave and I’ll lock you in that room like a proper fucking princess.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and slowly, I spin to face him.

“Typical broken boy bullshit,” I snap, and his brows crash in the center. “Can’t hardly look at me but can’t stand to see me go.”

Head cocked, he glares through thick lashes, his tongue sneaking out to dab at the blood in the corner of his mouth. “Say what you want, I’m not fucking joking.”

“Do you really think I would give up my place if you don’t come along with it?” I ask, shaking my head. “Because I won’t. So, go ahead, fuck Mallory some more, asshole, you never said you were mine, so you’ve got every right, yeah? But don’t do it expecting me to be sitting on the sidelines or crying in the fucking background. I won’t. I said I wanted you to be my Brayshaw, Captain. I never said a damn thing about needing you to become one.”

I walk away, but I only make it to the door.

“Victoria.” The urgency and panic in his tone is the only reason my feet don’t carry me outside.

I take a deep breath and turn around, my throat closing at the sight.

Captain is on his knees, shoulders dropped as low as they can go. He opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

“If you say sorry right now, I’ll punch you again.”

“I’ll take it,” he rasps. “Every one you’ve got. I’ll take ‘em, Beauty.”

I look to his brothers, all stuck with frowns on their faces, pain on Raven’s, none of them have a single idea what to say—rare for a Brayshaw, let alone four.

“Come to me.” The word leaves him on an empty breath.

I shouldn’t, but I let my hand fall from the knob, allow my feet to carry me to the broken boy on the floor as his family stands back watching.

I don’t get to decide what to do once I reach him, because his hands shoot out to grip my shirt and I’m tugged against him.

His arms wrap tight around me, and he yanks me down, his legs swinging around so he can drop to his ass, placing mine in his lap.

He doesn’t say a word, but he holds onto me like he can’t imagine letting me go.

Minutes pass, and I find my hands lifting, my palms flattening on the sides of his face, and his head lifts.

Regret buries the blue in his eyes, giving me only a murky green to stare into.

He grips my face in his palms, staring deep into my eyes and says what I had no idea I needed to hear.

“I didn’t fuck her.”





Chapter 31





Victoria



Raven knocks on the doorframe, coming in slowly. “Damn, Vee. Tryin’ to make me look bad?”

“Please.” I chuckle, fastening my belt. “They fell in love with you when all you wore were cheap sweats and a two-dollar tank top.”

“Eh, it was less. Got that five-finger discount,” she teases, making her way to my bed and sitting on the edge.

I laugh. “Right.”

“The boys haven’t said much about what they think happened out at Maria’s,” she offers, assuming I was curious as to what conversations were had when I wasn’t around.

She assumed right.

“They have their PI looking but…”

But she wasn’t all that important to them, so a manhunt isn’t something she’s afforded.

Not that one would be needed.

They must figure it has nothing to do with them, but simply her past catching up to her, as it does in places like this.

She leans back on her hands. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“It’s a concert with thousands of people.”

“And we’ll be in a mid-level suite, each of us at arm’s length with no escape.”

“I told you last night and the night before and earlier this morning, Raven. I’m going. I’m fine. Stop.” I slide my eyes her way.