Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

She squints and then looks to her hands. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I should have asked.”

“The answer will always be no.”

She doesn’t say anything for several minutes, instead staring out the window. When we’re on an old dirt road, she looks my way. “This looks like an exquisite place to dump a body.”

I scoff. “There’s a little waterhole back here, some sandbars and cliffs and shit.” I cut her a quick glance and keep down the narrowing path. “The entrance is on the other side, but this is the way Maybell would bring us when we were kids.”

“Why not the entrance?”

“No one could see us back here.” I frown at the road.

When we were young, we were tough, but we were just little boys. We were smart, but not always smarter than grown-ass men with agendas. As added precaution, we were hidden away for the most part.

We had each other, lacked nothing in life, but we weren’t free to roam. The world around us wasn’t safe, facts we understand now more than ever.

It only took one brother falling in love and risking it all, the other getting shot at and me, well, I pretty much partied through it all, came in to fuck up who needed fucked-up, and went on my merry way.

Before we were wild fuckers, we were brave boys.

Places like this were our escape, even if it was still just the three of us.

I don’t know why I’m bringing her out here, and this way.

My foot finds the brake and I’m ready to stop, throw it in reverse and go around, but then I look to Brielle.

She’s unbuckled her seat belt and has her shoulders and face out the window.

When she realizes we’ve stopped, she shifts, her shiny silver hair sticking to the gloss she must have snuck onto her lips as she looks over her shoulder. Right at me.

My stomach hollows and I wonder if I forgot to eat.

And then I remember... I ate plenty.

A heavy frown forms and concern seeps into her crazy, unusual turquoise eyes.

I face forward, take my foot off the brake, and fuck it.

I keep forward until we’re at the wide, flat embankment, park and hop the fuck out.

I don’t wait for her, instead leaping along the smaller rocks. Once I’m on the flat dirt plane, I ditch my shoes, and then jump up another. I continue until I’m at the highest peak point.

It doesn’t take long for her to make her way to me, but she pauses a rock below. I don’t have to glance over to know she’s eating the place up.

She loves the water, and this place offers a hell of a view.

Foothills of all sizes make up the place, large boulders mixed within them. Some of the hillsides stretch long and wide, curl and curve around the banks while others cut off completely, leaving a straight shot into the cool-ass, fresh and clean mountain water. There’re more hidden groves in this place than any other around here. You could come out here, walk all around on the busiest of days and still find your own private, hidden little cove.

“This is so nice.” She scans the area as far as she can see.

I nod, pointing over to the far left peak. “Soon as school’s out, the swim team will start settin’ up rafting trips that’ll leave right back there and take you about four hours downstream.”

She nods. “I think my brother was invited once, I remember him mentioning something, but... he never learned to swim either. It was something we were supposed to do together.”

I study her profile, and the shadowy look that comes over it. I need it gone.

“Come up here.” I tap my foot along the top of the rock.

She looks to me. “Up there?”

I grin. “You afraid, Bishop?”

She scoffs a laugh, but nods. “Kind of, yeah.” She looks over the side, at the twenty-foot drop down into the deep, dark water beneath us. “What if I fall?”

“What if I said I won’t let you?”

Her eyes fly to mine and she opens her mouth to speak, but then lowers her smile to her feet. She licks her lips, peeking up through her long lashes.

Without a word, she walks closer, her hand reaching out for mine.

I don’t know what the fuck it is, but something that stirs like nerves builds behind my ribs, twisting and fucking tightening.

It ain’t nerves, though.

I’m not nervous.

But what am I?

I drop onto my ass and scoot toward her, take her outstretched hand and steal the other. Her chest inflates when I link our fingers together rather than tug on her open palms.

“Climb me, Tink.”

“Climb you?” she deadpans.

I grin. “Like your favorite, sexy tree.”

A laugh bursts from her, but she quickly swallows it, takes a deep breath, and climbs.

She ditched her shoes where I did, so she lifts her legs as high as she can, using the base of my feet as a steppingstone. Her left knee comes down then, first pressing into the muscle of my thigh but as she lifts the right, the other slides along the material of my shorts, widening her legs.