Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(35)

My head snaps back to the porch as the two climb down the stairs, his hand at the base of her back, as if she needs to be led.

She doesn’t.

An unexpected urge to knock Micah off the steps follows, but I push that shit back, letting irritation take its place.

I must growl out loud as Raven turns to me.

She grins. “You doin’ okay back there, Ponyboy?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Ass is your jam.”

The girl was wearing a school uniform fit for a forty-year-old every time I saw her, minus yesterday when she wore a pair of baggy sweats and T-shirt—road trip, comfort clothes—but like Raven pointed out, I can spot a nice ass from a mile away, find that shit under any kind of material known to man, thick or thin. So, like I said. I saw it.

Gotta admit, she’s got more than I realized.

Hips too.

Not that I care.

With each step Brielle takes, her smile spreads wider.

“Look at her.” Captain watches her. “She’s not even nervous.”

“She’s the last thing from nervous. Excited, maybe even content.” Victoria tips her head to follow her as she passes the front of the SUV and keeps toward Mac’s that sits at the edge of the curb, waiting for them.

“Told you. Off.”

“Does this girl know anything about us, man, or is she coming in blind?” Cap glances my way briefly.

“Guess we’ll see.”

“Poor girl.” Raven sits back. “She has no idea what she’s in for.”

Not a fucking clue.

The laughter and chatter die down as we head for the school.

We’ve got a mess to clean, and today is setup day.





Brielle





Last night, after Mac and Micah got all of my bags put in my room, Mac took us for a late-night burger to fill us in on their newest issue and go over some things he said we needed to know—things that are expected and what’ll get us a one-way ticket underground.

Okay, so he didn’t use that term, but I think it’s fitting.

People here, they do disappear, but nobody talks about that.

Just like we’re not to talk about anything that’s shared with us, we take part in, see, discover, or even fail at. Basically, we’re like the CIA, but really not at all, more like rogue rebels.

Or they are. Not me.

I’m ‘whatever Royce tells me to be’—words Mac awkwardly delivered on behalf of his BFF.

I decided he’s the Manny Rae to Royce’s Tony Montana, but a version who doesn’t die in the end at his best friend’s hand.

Okay, maybe that’s a really bad comparison, but it’s fine.

He’s important, that’s all I know.

“All right, it’s all yours, my man.” Mac passes a set of keys to Micah.

Keys to his now car, his bonus for joining their team.

We look over to find a black Denali.

Identical to the ones the Brayshaws drive.

Micah frowns from it to Mac, but Mac only nods.

“GPS is already set to get you back to the school,” he shares. “Follow it and don’t be late. You’ll draw attention to yourself being new and we don’t want to make a show.”

We nod and switch cars.

Micah is grinning from ear to ear and keeps whistling as he checks out gadgets on the dash.

He looks to me with a smile. “How about some flat cakes? I saw a McDonald’s across the bridge when I drove in?”

“Mac told us not to be late.”

“We have a half hour and look.” He pushes buttons on the navigation system. “It says it’s six minutes away.” When I hesitate, he nudges my shoulder with a smile. “Come on. New place, new life. It’s just a pancake.”

I laugh. “I already ate… but I guess I could go for a hot chocolate?”

He laughs. “There we go.”

As Micah said, we’re there in six minutes, and pulling away after three.

He looks to me with a grin that dims as he faces forward. “Is this weird, being in a car with me like this?”

I exhale. “Kind of, but surprisingly not as bad as I thought it would be when Mac suggested it last night.”

I look to Micah and we both laugh.

“Hey, so,” I tread lightly, messing with my phone in my palm. “Did you meet everyone at the boys home?”

Micah shrugs. “I met a couple. I guess some were out late, some are gone on jobs and shit. Be back in a week or something.” He scowls. “Why, you not meet any of the girls?”

“No, yeah, I did. All of the ones who were interested in laying eyes on the new girl anyway, the rest stayed in their rooms.” Micah laughs. “I was just... wondering—” About my brother.

We begin rolling across the bridge, but as we do, a car cuts us off, and Micah’s forced to slam on the brakes.

My body flies forward, but the seat belt catches me. Unfortunately, not my drink, and then my entire chest burns with steaming cocoa.

I gasp, pulling at it, and Micah turns to me with wide eyes.

“Shit!” He throws the thing in park, and turns to me, but as my head lifts, I realize the car that cut us off has stopped.

I hit his arm, frowning forward. “Micah...”