Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(111)
“Thanks for the warning, now do me a favor and tell me where my man is.”
“Come on now, girl, you know your boy better than that.” He moves aside and there he is, smack dab in the middle of the room, an entourage already around him. “Front and center.”
Being what they expect.
He spots me right away, like he was waiting for me to walk through the doors.
“Well, well.” He accepts a fresh popped bottle from a girl I’ve never seen, kicking his leg out for her to take a seat that doesn’t belong to her.
“Look who’s showed up.” His head falls back lazily.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know I was coming,” I call him out. “That’s the only reason you snapped your fingers and allowed in the swarm of swans.”
He flies from the seat, the girl falling to the floor, but he doesn’t pause to help her.
He stalks toward me, his chest puffed high, but his shoulders, they’re drawn up tight. And he’s angry.
So damn angry.
It’s fear that’s caused it, and he has no idea what to do with it.
He leans in, his lip curling, but my god, his body shakes.
It’s light, almost unnoticeable, but it’s there and it creates a sting within my own.
He’s aching on the inside, and it’s vibrating through his very being, and for some reason, this boy in front of me feels the need to hide it. To hide himself. Hide from himself behind these people who could never truly love him because they don’t know him like I do.
He’s a fraud in his own skin.
He’s going to make this hurt.
I can see it in his lonely, broken boy eyes.
I guess this is where it all falls apart.
The saying goes nothing lasts forever, but that saying is a damn lie, because pain does.
Pain lasts a lifetime.
Here comes mine.
Royce
“I don’t know why you’re here when you’re not wanted or allowed,” I force out. “Leave.”
Her shoulders fall, but she keeps that little lift of her mouth in place. “I can’t. Not until you talk to me.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you. If I did, I’d have called you. I didn’t.” I force myself a step back.
Goddamn it, she’s close.
Too close.
Not close enough.
Before I realize it, I’m reaching for her, but I sloppily pull back, growling as I spin away from her. “I said go. Group home girls aren’t allowed here.”
“Good thing I’m far from one of those.”
“Not anymore.” I spit onto the floor, glancing over my shoulder. “You’re as worthless here as you were where you came from. They had no use for you, and neither do I.”
Fucking kill me.
My insides burn as if someone shot me with a syringe full of their best cut venom, but still I add, “Go back to your aunt, you’re no longer wanted here.” I barely get the last few words out before I’m forced to swallow the vomit beginning to rise.
My veins burn, my throat’s closing, but it’s nothing compared to the jagged blade slicing down my torso at her next words.
“Your hand did some damage.”
My palm flies to my ribs, holding them in place, fighting the sting, soothing the ache. I plant my fucking feet, steel my trembling jaw, and force myself to spin, to face my demon head-on—the marking on my girl’s left temple.
My shoulders fall, the weakness in me showing itself to the one girl I wish I was strong for.
“B—”
“I only said that to get your attention,” she rushes out. “I... lost my sight. ”
Her words are making no sense to me, and mine are a harsh lie. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“I’m trying to tell you this wasn’t your fault. I’m going blind, Royce. I blacked out,” she whispers, and my mind screams, my head spinning, fighting to understand past the alcohol swimming in my veins.
Is she lying so I’ll give in?
I can’t give in, especially if this is true.
Bass said she’d fall into darkness in our world. Did he mean it literally and I was too much of a dick to realize this?
Will she really lose her ability to see when she’s spent the last four years seeing nothing at all?
Four years wasted. Her spirit dimming with her sight.
She shifts closer, and her nearness burns as much as the distance had. “This wasn’t your fault,” she affirms. “But the hurt that followed when I watched you walk away, that was.”
Cause I’m a piece of shit.
And I’m about to become an even bigger one.
I draw up another rancid laugh and this one damn near knocks me on my ass. “You say this shit, tell your little lies, like I’m supposed to care. Newsflash. I don’t. Not about how you feel, not about what you’re going through, not about you.”
Lie, lie, fucking painful ass lie.
Silence, cold and dark, threatens to swallow us.
I should let it, but don’t know how.
I tell myself to walk away, but my feet refuse to move, so fuck it. I get in her face.
“I should take you right here, right now, give you a little goodbye present so I can send you on your way. We both know I don’t have to like you to fuck you.”