Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)
“Daddy fix it?”
My throat grows thick, and I’m unable to swallow, unable to look into the eyes waiting for mine to lift.
Why did Maddoc do this?
I glance his way, but he watches Captain as Raven focuses on Zoey. Royce, though, his glare is directed right at me.
I release Zoey, but she’s reluctant to let go, and a small frown forms across her forehead as I push to my feet.
“Daddy, fix it,” she says, a little firmer.
“No, ZoZo. I have to go.”
“No.” She shakes her head, gripping my hand again and tugging. “No, no. Daddy do it. Hu-mon.”
Shit.
“I can’t.” I gently pull free and she stops in her tracks, pushing the loose hairs from her face. “Rora has to—”
“Come here, Zoey,” Captain gently calls her, cutting me off. “I have your ball.”
“No ball!” she shouts, the teeniest trace of a cry in her tone.
Captain’s fist clenches at his sides, but still I can’t look up.
His anger has already wrapped around my ribs, pulling and tugging and twisting.
Royce tries next. “I feel like some Fruity Pebbles.” He walks closer, reaching out for her. “Let’s go get some, Zo—”
She jerks away from him, running behind me to wrap her hands around my legs. “No, no, no!”
I freeze, dropping my eyes to hers, and when her little lips start to tremble, my heart shakes with them.
Four sets of eyes burn into my skin, all waiting to see what I’ll do.
What the fuck do I do?
Piss them off or break her spirit?
How is that even a question?
I shift, ready to pick her up, but Captain beats me to it, clutching my arm to stop me, while leaning down to swoop up Zoey.
He keeps his focus on her, but his firm hold gives more than he’d like—his hand twitches against my skin, tightening just to loosen in the same second.
“Let’s head inside now, Zo.”
To everyone’s horror, and dare I say surprise, Zoey starts to cry, kicking her feet and throwing her body over his arms until she’s half hanging from his arms, attempting to land in mine.
With her arms out she opens and closes her hands, wordlessly begging for me to grab her as her tears take over her sweet little eyes.
Sweat builds at the base of my neck, and I lift my arms the tiniest bit.
Within seconds, I’m surrounded by the other three, and while the moon is bright above us, all I see is a thick cloud of gray.
It takes everything I have to shuffle backward, away from her, and it’s like shredding myself in half.
They don’t get it, but how could they.
My lips have stayed sealed.
I lift my eyes, meeting a pair of turbulent blues, the light shade of green they normally hold absent altogether.
There’s so much happening within them, rage being the clearest, but that’s not what gives me pause.
Confliction, pure and simple.
To deny his baby girl is to break his own heart, but to allow someone he can’t trust near her is against everything he is—the nurturing, fierce protector he prides himself in being, traits that have only strengthened with Zoey’s homecoming.
I can’t allow him to battle himself, it’s not right.
I’m the bad guy in this story.
I drop my eyes to the grass and rush around them, but I don’t head for the house, not when Zoey will see and possibly come looking.
I hustle toward the driveway until I meet the orchards, where I take off in a full sprint down the dirt road, but I don’t make it to the end.
Heavy arms wrap around my elbows and I’m ripped from the ground, spun and slammed between long, thick tree branches.
A hiss escapes, my eyes darting forward and connecting with Raven’s.
They widen.
“Are you fucking stupid?!” I shout, attempting to steady myself.
Raven doesn’t allow it and nudges me back, her forearm coming up to lock off my throat. She’s shaking, furious, gray eyes burning.
“You shouldn’t be running like that,” I rasp, attempting to swallow past her hold. “What if I acted out of reflex and knocked you down?”
“Shut the fuck up,” she forces past clenched teeth, not flinching as heavy, hasty footsteps grow closer. Her nostrils flare, jaw clenching.
She pushes harder.
“You ever gonna come out and tell him whatever the hell it is he needs to know?”
“No.”
She slams a hand down on the old wood near my head, bending to bring herself closer. “You really think you’re in a position to play like this?”
I flick my eyes between hers. “They haven’t earned it.”
A scoffed laugh leaves her, and her frown begins to fade but she puts it right back. “Are you for real?”
“What kind of Brayshaw would I be if I made this easy?”
“You aren’t one.”
“Yet.”
Her eyes fly between mine, a heavy dip forming between her brows.
Trust me, Raven.
Her hold lets up the slightest bit, and I look to the side. Royce and Maddoc are rapidly approaching, vicious scowls on both their faces, but their anger is likely for Raven.