Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

Here we go.Bass is out of the car and in my face in four seconds flat and tossing a stack of papers in my face. “You got a message for me, Brayshaw? I’m here. Serve it up.”

I ignore his bullshit, hold my arms out, and the motherfucker doesn’t hesitate like every other person in this place does.

Nah, he takes his shot, catching me clear across the jaw.

I welcome it, knowing damn well I deserve it, but he’s far from innocent, too, so he’ll get his just the same.

I spit, lick my lips, and grin at the punk.

Jet black hair and jacket to match, he stands fucking tall. Bold.

“Bass fucking Bishop.” I creep closer and his fists clench tighter at his sides. “Welcome back, motherfucker.”

My right hook flies forward, sending him against the hood of his pretty-ass ride behind him, but not before his foot kicks out, knocking me on my ass at the same time.

I roll to my feet as he does, sliding in to connect with his gut as he catches me in the ribs. Both of us cough, but neither slows down.

Blow after blow, we keep the same pace, trade punches and break through skin. Blood drips down my lips while his flows from above his left eye.

We go in for more, but I switch shit up knowing we could go all night, and when we did tire, it would be at the same damn time.

I would know.

I trained the motherfucker.

I knock him in the ribs, first right, dodging his uppercut, and connect with his left next. He allows himself a single second to breathe, and I use that second to bend my upper body back, twist and spin around him, wrapping him into a headlock.

His next move is to give me all his weight, but I drop us both to the fucking ground before he can and scoot my ass back until the passenger side door meets my back, offering more balance.

Bass growls, his hands locked on my arms, his legs fighting for dominance he won’t get.

But then my hair is pulled from above and my head darts up to meet the Malibu fucking Barbie hanging half out the window.

“The fuck?!” I shout, banging my head against the door to jerk myself free, but she digs her claws in deeper.

“I said stay in your fucking seat!” Bass shouts.

“I’m in the fucking seat, you said nothing about the window.” The girl smirks and his growl turns into a groan.

“Hey, Pamela Anderson’s spawn, get your fucking hands off me or you’re gonna have problems.”

“Oh.” She fake pouts. “I’ve got plenty of those, what’s one more?”

“How ‘bout one that ends with a knife in your side?”

Our heads jerk toward the porch to find Raven, Victoria, Maddoc, and Cap all standing there.

Raven flips her knife open, running it along her index finger, her eyes popping up. “Been a while since I’ve got to use this baby. Give me a reason to.”

A rasped, mocking laugh leaves the girl but Bass cuts her off quickly.

“Cut it, rich girl. Let the bitch go.”

I tighten my hold, digging my knee into his spine and he jerks, trying to reach back.

He manages to slip around, and then we’re rolling again.

We jump to our feet, his grip tight on my stretched collar, until he has my chain locked in his fist.

The motherfucker meets my eyes, and a fire flares in mine.

He knows better than to touch—

He rips it off, my family crest flying somewhere to the left, so I lay his ass out.

He falls back, slamming hard onto the rocks beneath his feet, and I jump on top. I serve him another hard hit to the jaw and his hand shoots up to grip my neck, squeezing, and my airway closes.

But I wink at the bitch, wishing for unconsciousness.

It’s only fair I lose it too, right? Like she did?

I let him go, allow him his other hand to fly up and grip me tighter.

The world around me starts to spin, and when a grin starts to split my lips as the gray takes over, his eyes narrow.

The bastard sees what I want and tosses me aside instead, refusing to give it to me.

I cough, choking for air, and he pants, climbing to his feet as I do.

“Are you guys done now?”

Our eyes fly to the porch to find Brielle standing there.

It’s Bass who speaks first. “You’re in his house...” He trails off, pushing to his full height, and we both slip closer. “I know what this place means to them, to him. If you’re inside this house, then you’re...” His features pull tight.

She gives a small smile. “Inside his heart?”

Fuck me, my chest pounds heavy.

His jaw tics, the tension on his face doubling. “Brielle,” he edges.

Her eyes find mine and I have to grip the porch railing to keep myself standing.