Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(130)

My throat grows thick, and more tears fall. “Yeah, I do.”

He chuckles lightly, leaning in to kiss my forehead, and whispers, “Goodbye, baby sister.”

He stands and as he walks away, he pauses, narrowing his eyes and says, “When I call, answer.”

A low, raspy scoff warms the room, followed by a teasing, “Good luck with that shit, Bishop.”

Low laughter follows, and my brother nods, glances around, and walks out.

As he does, I feel no sadness or hurt, not a hint of the abandonment I used to bury, because this time, as he walks away, I know I could go with him and he’d gladly hold the door open for me. This time, I’m okay with his goodbye.

This time, I chose to stay behind, because when I look to my right, into the dark and loving eyes waiting for mine, I know I’m staring at everything in this world I could ever want... and so much more.

Royce freaking Brayshaw.





Chapter 40





Royce



When I was young, I thought I knew what my life would be.

I’d be strong and bold and free. Wild and untamed and not a damn thing could stop me, change me, see me.

I would hide behind a mask I’d created to protect the one thing I didn’t want anyone to touch—the organ beating inside my chest.

I knew what love did, and I wanted none of it.

Love was a thief. It robbed you of your good senses and bred weakness inside the mind. It created doubt and jealousy and downright drives you mad.

That’s what I knew of love.

I didn’t know shit.

I was never strong or bold or free, not really.

As a kid, I was locked in my own mind, fearing what would come—a day where I’d lose my brothers to someone or something.

I was nothing but a lost boy, and in flew my Tink to rewrite all I thought I knew about strength and freedom.

She saved me from me by loving every jacked-up part of me.

Love did make me crazy, it took from me, changed me, but not for the worse. For the better.

Brielle, she is my strength, where my bravery will come from, and only when she’s with me, will I ever be free.

Free of fear or loss or pain, of regret.

To love Brielle Bishop is to breathe deep and full, to be loved by her is something too deep to explain.

She smiles, reaching up to run her fingers along my healing wound. “Your eyes are telling a story... you’re thinking.”

I lower, running my lips along hers only to pull back. “Of you. Always you.”

“Yeah, and what about this time, hm?”

“Captain told me what you did, for Enoch and Taylor.” I trace my fingertips along her neck. “You helped them find their way back to each other.”

“They deserved it. They love each other, and none of what happened was their fault.”

“Always the light in the darkness,” I whisper, emotion thickening up my tone as I stare at her. “You had to go and one-up me, huh, in my white knight moment?”

She chuckles, but it transitions into a sigh.

She pulls my face down to hers, closing her eyes. “We died together.”

“And we were brought back together.”

“Right beside each other. Are we zombies now?” she whispers with a laugh, her arms lazily draping around my neck.

“Nah, superheroes maybe.”

“Yeah, I think that’s better. Does basically being born again mean we have new birthdays?”

“Oh fuck yeah, Tink. But not new, two.” I grin. “I’m cashin’ in on doubles.”

“You would,” she teases, her legs falling open for me.

I settle right between them, hovering over her.

“Baby girl,” I whisper. “I’ve got another rule for you.”

“Let’s hear it, Playboy.”

“Love me forever,” I rasp, a deep ache in my body, a heavy need for her now, her tomorrow, her every day after that. “Let me love you forever. Don’t leave me, always want me, and never stop fighting with me.”

Those eyes, the ones I’ve dreamed of for months, craved, fucking thirsted for, grow so damn warm and full I can hardly stand it. I almost have to look away, but don’t.

I need this from her.

“That’s a lot of rules,” she says softly.

“That’s not an answer.”

She laughs, nudges me on the side so I slowly roll us over, and she gently climbs on top.

My pulse beats heavy under my skin, and her hand comes up to cover my heart, feeling it beat against her, for her.

“I know you’re worried, more now than before, I’d bet. I know lying in the hospital bed beside me, you wondered at least once if this is right. You still worry you’re taking from me, by being with me, but do you want to know the truth?” She entwines her free hand with one of mine, lifting it over her heavily beating heart.

“Always,” I rasp, anxiousness creeping up my throat.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and a small smile forms along those perfect lips of hers.

When she doesn’t move after several seconds, I glide my fingers along the line of her underwear.

“What are you doing, baby?”

That smile, it widens. “I’m staring into your eyes, at the deep brown that changes from golden to cocoa to the night sky.”