Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(14)

What can I even say?

The guy who slipped onto campus and went all Damon Salvatore, started whooping on people because of me is a stranger to me?

I don’t get a chance to say anything, though. George beats me to it.

“Ms. Bishop.” He grins, his eyes falling to the money in my palm. “That for me?”

My gaze drops to the wad of Ben Franklins. “Uh—”

I cut off when loud bangs sound against the large metal door of the teachers’ lounge.

George reaches for the cash, so I hand it over, and he quickly shoves it in his pocket. Tugging his keys from his belt loop, he slips one in the lock and smiles. “You might want to start walking away now, Ms. Bishop. Staff meeting gone wrong.” He chuckles.

I nod, slowly doing as he says, and then the click of the lock sounds, teacher after teacher piling out, heavy complaints falling from their lips.

“Whoa now. How the heck did you folks get locked in there?” George asks, meeting my eyes one last time for a small wink.

What... he locked them inside?

I spin around, quickly moving toward my next class, but as I grow closer, I realize Royce had it all covered from the start, and not for his benefit.

For mine.

I mean, in a weird, messed-up kind of way that also allowed him to do his thing, draw attention and get a read on my reality.

A laugh makes its way up my throat.

A good, true laugh.

Not loud or bubbling, but one that allows a little bit of light inside.

I should fear the airy sensation that’s evaded me for so long now, but instead I hold on to it.

Because while the sun and the moon light our lives with a single glance, to feel that light is rare, and something that can’t be robbed from you before it should.

Because a feeling comes from the inside, not the out.





Chapter 4





Royce



Blue.

No, not blue, teal.

Fuck, not teal...

A little deeper, a mix of both, but crisp and clear with an icy center.

Turquoise.

But what up with the swollen eyes and why’d her bitch cousin call her out like that?

She seemed like a tiny pushover, but then she straight pushed the cousin over.

Didn’t expect that from the tiny one.

“You good over there?”

My head snaps toward Mac and he chuckles. “Day dreamin’?”

“Bro, fuck you.”

He laughs harder, shaking his head. “For real, what’s up?”

I lick my lips, facing forward.

I don’t talk shit through with anyone but my brothers or Raven, but it’s just us here, so fuck it, yeah?

“The chick who showed up out there?”

He nods.

“That’s her cousin. Notice how she looks a helluva lot more like Bishop than the other one, pale as fuck, dark hair, problem with the world?”

“I did.” He shifts his body to face me better, fully aware there’s a lot more coming.

“Couple days before Bass moved into the group home, Brielle was sent out here, meaning she wasn’t a part of our world anymore. A week after that, he came asking for her file, offering to work for free for the first two years in our world if we handed it over and let him get rid of it.”

“Smart on his end.” He nods. “Got her out, waited, then asked knowing it would make no difference to you guys at that point.”

I lean back. “Exactly. And it didn’t. As far as we were concerned, we did our part, the girl was set for a better life than the one she had, so we handed him what he wanted. We might have even respected the prick’s loyalty to his sister for his willingness to have less if it meant doing what he thought was right for her, keep her safe and away, or what-the-fuck-ever.”

“And you still paid the guy ‘cause you wanted him to push himself.” He nods.

Exactly.

Mac gets it, he’s moving up in Brayshaw and learning the ins and outs, the strength of our pull in the circle around us.

I lay it all out since he’ll be our main man soon, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“The thing about our files?” I shake my head. “They ain’t copies. They’re straight from the fucking county servers, deleted from record the second they touch our hands. Hospital visits, police reports, school fuck-ups. Poof, shit doesn’t exist, never happened.”

He studies me, slowly dropping back against the door. “And when the Bishops’ files came to you guys, you were only freshmen, so you took your dad’s word after a quick look inside. You didn’t read them.”

I nod. “Only read one, a report on assault charges against Bass to get an idea of how good his hands were.”

“You came here with no clue who this girl was or what she was about.”

“Nothin’ but a name and address, my man, and that shit cost a fuck-ton to get my hands on, so when I got here, saw the look-alike cousin, I told my ass that’s her, done fuckin’ deal.” I raise a brow. “I almost got got, bro. If the cousin didn’t give her up, I would have.”

“Nah, man.” He shakes his head. “You’d have figured it out.”

Maybe.

Not very Brayshaw of me to jump to conclusions without proof.

My brothers would whoop my ass.