Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(112)

“No,” she whispers, her hand coming up to touch my chest, but I jerk away. “You don’t, but you would have to love me to take my virginity like you did, because Royce Brayshaw doesn’t touch virgins otherwise.”

I try to speak, to snap back, but my throat’s officially clogged.

My Brielle.

My baby.

She can never be mine. I’ll destroy her.

Proof is the angry red mark staring back at me.

“Call me a fool,” I whisper hatefully. “‘Cause what a rookie mistake that was. Now look at you, standing here expecting more, like you’re special. Like you weren’t just a body to be played with, for me to fuck the second I decided I wanted to... and you gave, didn’t you? Right when I said go, just like the rest of them.”

She runs her tongue over her teeth, flicking her eyes away to conceal her hurt briefly only to bring them right back.

Pure agony burns in my gut, melts my defenses, and threatens to swallow my resolve.

I want to tell her that I didn’t fuck her, that I worship her body, want to treat it like a fucking temple, bring her as close to the stars as I can, knowing how much she loves the sight of them. How I want to set us both aflame, over and over and over again. And then do it again, but I can’t say any of that, because I’m bad for her.

Bad, period.

Everyone knows it, so she must too, right?

Realize that girls rope me in because they want to fuck me, ‘cause I’m the disposable asshole who can make them feel good for a night or two, but that’s it. They keep Cap. They want Maddoc, they settle for me.

Nobody wants to keep me.

The fuckup.

The bad guy with bad intentions.

Do what you do best, Royce. Push, but you better push fucking hard, ‘cause if she comes to you, it’s over. Settled.

And way too fucking selfish.

“Come on now, little Bishop. Don’t stand there looking so helpless. You had to know what was happening here. We talked about what playing dumb makes you look like.”

Her chest begins to rise and fall in short pants, her lungs refusing to share the same air as me, the bastard who hurt her. Who is hurting her now.

“I know what you’re doing,” she rasps. “And you can kiss my ass if you think this will work, but go ahead, Playboy. Break me if you dare.”

Her big, turquoise eyes holding mine and waiting for more bile to make its way up and out.

I force myself not to look away, not to flinch. “I needed to catch Coach Von in the act.” My shoulder lifts, but I hardly feel the move. “He had it coming after everything with Enoch and his girl, the girls he likely hurt before her. Took longer than I thought, but you finally did something useful, fell right in. I mean, come on, you’re so desperate to feel wanted you even volunteered for the dirty little role.”

A fucking knife, right through the heart.

Her face caves, a sharp huff pushing past her nostrils.

“Royce,” Captain snaps.

I ignore him, frowning at her, but I’m not really looking at her, I can’t.

I focus on my peripheral.

“You were nothing but a game piece, one I had to track, bring in, and mold into the perfect little part. And it worked. Why you think I tested you out first?” I force a foul fuckin’ laugh, welcoming the rotten taste in my throat. “Why you think I put molly in your drink the first night here? To see how much work I had to put in to blind you. I was shootin’ for figuratively, but man, maybe I’m better than I thought, yeah, since you ‘lost your sight’?” I speak as mocking as I can muster, tip my head, and wish for a fucking sword to chop it from my body. “But it took a whole lot of work, didn’t it?”

Captain pushes on my chest, trying to drive me away, but I shove his hand off and he shakes his head, unable to look at Brielle.

“You’re such an asshole.” She rasps, uncertainty in her gaze.

“I know.” And this will be my greatest show.

An R-rated fucking nightmare, never to be forgotten, a sight I’ll forever be haunted by.

She blinks but nothing new shines back as she does and it tears me in two, yet she doesn’t run, doesn’t move an inch.

She stands still, staring right at me.

I need her away before I crack.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, it never should have.” The only true words to leave me tonight. “But I’m not gonna stand here and pretend I have any more use for you. I’ve already taken all you’ve got to offer. Used you up like I planned to. Erased the halo hanging above your head and replaced it with some horns, but that’s what you wanted, right? To be bad? To be a part of the darkness of our world.” I walk backward, retaking my place on the couch, Katie on one side, Giana on the other. I shrug. “You’ve got nothing left I want, so go on, little Bishop,” I rasp, not recognizing my own voice. “Get out of here before you get bit. I’m trying to celebrate, and you’re killing the mood.”

“I’m not done talking to you,” she pushes on, her voice so low it’s almost missed, her hope damn near dead at my hands.

Micah steps up, gripping her arm gently and I fly from my seat, shove him back, and dip into her face. I growl the final gauntlet; one I know will get her to leave.

“You really want another person to get their ass beat because of you?”