Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

My heart hammers beneath my ribs, so hard he must hear it. “I said I won’t make her choose.”

“Don’t kid yourself, man. She already did,” he says quietly. “I didn’t ask her permission, I told her she was leaving with me, and my sister flat-out refused. She refused to leave you.”

The weight of a thousand pounds both falls and lifts over me, sinks my stomach only to feed my soul. “I fucking love her. I’ll never stop.”

“Yeah, man,” he grumbles. “I’m getting that.”

I look to Captain, to Maddoc who has suddenly appeared, at the taut expression he wears.

The fear I feel, the pain I let in, the possibility of tomorrow, and every emotion in between, it flows through them too.

I feel, they feel.

They want this for me, for us.

The final loop.

The calm for our storms.

None of us have it, the purity she brings.

The strength she’ll give and not just me, but all of us.

We’re the five points of the star, and she’s the circle that’ll seal us in.

“Go get your girl, brother.” Maddoc swallows, tipping his chin.

I look to Bass and the dude holds his knuckle out, so fuck me, I lift mine to his.

“Still think you’re a bitch, but I might let you come to my wedding.” I grin.

Bass scoffs a laugh, but it turns into a groan. “Don’t start your ‘Brayshaws start early’ bullshit, man. It’s day one.”

“For you. She’s been mine for a hot minute.”

He flips me off with a laugh.

Captain steps up to Bass, a hard expression on his face.

My brother, he cares for Brielle. He believes in her place here, and his words prove it.

“You’re wrong to think she don’t belong.” Cap’s straightforward with Bass, standing tall and sure. “We have power, we have schemes, we have knowledge, what we don’t have are gentle hearts. She does. She’ll round us out, and we’ll all be better leaders because of it. Because of her.”

Bishop’s eyes gloss and he gives a hard, curt nod, turning to me.

“The fuck you waiting for, Brayshaw? Don’t make my sister wait like I did. Let her know we’re good, we both know what it’ll mean to her.”

I spin on my heels and dart forward, but something has me pausing and whipping back around.

Bishop chuckles, and damn, it’s a deep one. “You really are fucking whipped.”

He knows as well as I do why I stopped—it’s the look in my girl’s eye that I know I’ll get if her brother walks up beside me. If he gives her what she doesn’t need but desperately wants, even if she hasn’t said it yet. His blessing.

I grin. “I ain’t mad about it.”

He shakes his head and falls in line beside me.

My brothers head out the back gate where Maddoc parked, and the two of us head back toward the front. We don’t have to say we’ll worry about this shit later. It’s agreed upon without a word.

We step around the side of the school, slowing the closer we get when Brielle isn’t easily seen through the windows of Mac’s car.

“Royce...”

“Maybe she’s lying down.”

We step up to it, tear the doors open, but it’s empty.

Bass spins to his car, and his Barbie sits up in the seat, stepping out.

“Where is she?”

“Where is who?” She smirks.

“Fuck this. Let’s head back, grab her on the way.”

“Yeah, that won’t work.” She tips her head. “She didn’t walk.”

Bass crowds her. “What are you talking about?”

She shakes her head with a smirk. “I was scrolling through Instagram and lost services, so I hopped out and walked around a bit, within the five-foot span, so don’t have an aneurism.”

“Keep talking,” he demands.

“Imagine my surprise when I spotted the girl of the hour slipping into the night with a different knight.” she looks to the moon with a mocking edge. “Ah, the irony, right?”

“Get to the fucking point, girl.”

“Oh, an angry boy, nice.” She tips her head.

“Cut it,” Bass snaps. “Where’d she go?”

“Hopped in a car.”

“What fucking car?”

She smirks. “I could show you.”

I rush her, but Bass doesn’t let me too close.

She laughs, her eyes sliding to his. “Ah, down boy,” she whispers like a privileged brat. “First, I need your word that you’ll—”

Bass shuts her ass up by slamming his lips into hers, and her eyes shoot wide.

“Quiet, Rich Girl,” he rasps against her lips, snagging the phone from her hand.

I glance between the two, at her, stuck there frozen, mouth parted, hand up even though her phone’s no longer in it.

I laugh and her eyes snap to mine, her face smoothing and going back to the bitchy Barbie. “Damn, Bishop, girl’s got a Brayshaw size hard-on for you.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, try and convince her of that,” he mumbles, looking to her. “Password?”

She blinks, reaching out. “I’ll put it in.”

He pulls it back. “Password.”

She clamps her lips together, looking away when his eyes narrow, and he stalks toward her.