Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

Suddenly, Captain is at my back.

“Red’s your color, Beauty,” he says into my ear as his fingers run along my ribs, stopping where the stretchy shirt disappears into my high-waisted black jeans. His eyes fall on my lips, painted a heavy red, five shades darker than my natural color and the same exact shade as my top.

He licks his own. “But I knew that already.”

His gaze comes back to mine, softening as he stares. His hand comes up to grip the side of my face, a sadness suddenly clouding his.

“Victoria,” he whispers, and my lips pull in, a heavy crease forming above his brows. “The shit I said about Maria... that was fucked up. I didn’t mean it.”

I nod. “I know.”

He shifts, bringing us closer, and my heart rate spikes. “I’m—”

“Victoria!”

Captain’s hand falls and my glare flies to Chloe.

“I need to find the ladies’ room. Come with me?” Her smile is bright and annoying, and I’m ready to tell her to go the hell away, but the longer I look at her, the more I see.

Her eyes are pleading.

Her secret slaps me in the face and even though I don’t want to walk away right now, she might just need me to, so I nod, slipping away from Captain, but he quickly grabs my arm.

“You’re not going to the bathrooms by yourself,” he snaps.

Mac knocks his elbow with Captain’s and points up a long set of stairs, where massive body after massive body lines every three to four steps and leads to a glass hallway, a private bathroom just at the top.

“Maddoc picked this box for that reason,” he tells him.

“And you think he’d let Raven go alone?” Captain questions.

Mac laughs, shoving at Captain playfully. “Fuck no. If my girl were pregnant, I wouldn’t either.”

My eyes snap to Chloe’s and she frowns.

“Ready?” I ask her and she nods, leading the way.

As soon as we’re inside the glass building, she moves to the side, staring down at the others below, dancing and laughing, Mac and Captain staring right at us.

“Don’t judge me,” she says.

“I’m not.”

She whips around, angry glare but heavy moisture in her eyes. “I went to the doctor. I’m only six weeks along. The threesome with Royce was well before that. It’s Mac’s.”

My lips pucker as I almost speak, but quickly pause. “Okay... so why are you crying?”

“Because now it’s real.” She laughs nervously, shoving open the door into the bathroom, me right behind her. “I’m pregnant, and my dad is probably going to have him murdered.”

“Doubtful.”

She disappears into the stall. “You don’t know my dad!”

I roll my eyes, leaning against the frame, waiting for her to come out.

The door shoves open and her four-inch heels carry her to the sink to wash her hands. She runs her fingers through her hair and turns to the side to inspect her figure.

“Why haven’t you told Mac?” I ask her.

She sighs. “Because once we’re finally done with school, he wants to take over as head of Brayshaw security. He says all the time how dangerous it is. Add a kid into that and he’ll give up what he’s been working toward. It’s all he wants.” She looks my way, her lipstick in her hand. “Mac comes from nothing, earned everything he has, and he’s worked so hard to earn their trust, to get to where he is—a place where he’ll have a chance. I can’t take that away.”

“Who says you’re taking anything away?”

She laughs as if I’m the most naïve person on the planet, and her words confirm the thought. “You have so much to learn.”

I shake my head. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe he wants those things so bad because they’ll make him feel worthy of you?”

Her eyes fly to mine, and slowly she puts her makeup back in her purse.

“Your own dad was head of security, Chloe, and now your boyfriend is going for that spot, wants it, as you say, more than anything.” I shrug, pushing out of the bathroom door. “Sounds like in his mind, the key to keeping you is to become one of them.”

We stand there, inside the closed-off glass, staring down at the guys staring up at us.

“I don’t love him because he’s Brayshaw.”

“Does he know that?”

“He better,” she says. “I can’t believe this, but you’re so right, Vee.”

“Let’s keep it at Victoria. We’re not even friends yet.”

She laughs. “Yet. Nice.”

Together we head back for our seats, but just before we get there, her hand grips my arm, holding me back.

Fear lines her eyes, so I spin around and grip her shoulders.

“You’re Chloe Carpo. You’re strong and determined, and honestly kind of a bitch, but...”

She laughs, tension rolling off of her. “You suck at a pep talk, but thanks.” Her eyes slide by mine, and she whispers, “I’m telling him. Now.”

My brows jump. “Now.”