Break Me Page 5

  His eyes narrow farther, and I go to step by him, but he slides with me.

  A heavy sigh escapes me and I shake my head. “I need to go. I have class,” I stress, knowing the cost—literally—of being late, and the need to get away from him. Fast.

  His glare is so heavy now, so calculating, I can hardly see the brown of his eyes. He doesn’t take his focus off of me as he pulls a rolled-up stack of twenties from his pocket and holds it up.

  I glance from it to him. “What’s that for?”

  He grips my hand, slaps it inside, and stalks off.

  “Royce—”

  “Take that to the teachers’ lounge,” he cuts me off in a tone void of emotion as he glances at me over his shoulder. “Might wanna be quick about it.”

  Teachers’ lounge?

  “For what?!”

  My question goes unanswered as he disappears.

  Curiosity is the only reason I turn on my heels and make my way to the main hall, which is on the complete other side of the school from where my next class is.

  Ibuprofen will be my foot’s best friend tonight.

  I step inside and George spots me right away, rushing over.

  My shoulders fall.

  Great!

  So the jerk set me up to get in trouble?

  “George, I...”

  I what?

  What can I even say?

  The guy who slipped onto campus and went all Damon Salvatore, started whooping on people because of me is a stranger to me?

  I don’t get a chance to say anything, though. George beats me to it.

  “Ms. Bishop.” He grins, his eyes falling to the money in my palm. “That for me?”

  My gaze drops to the wad of Ben Franklins. “Uh—”

  I cut off when loud bangs sound against the large metal door of the teachers’ lounge.

  George reaches for the cash, so I hand it over, and he quickly shoves it in his pocket. Tugging his keys from his belt loop, he slips one in the lock and smiles. “You might want to start walking away now, Ms. Bishop. Staff meeting gone wrong.” He chuckles.

  I nod, slowly doing as he says, and then the click of the lock sounds, teacher after teacher piling out, heavy complaints falling from their lips.

  “Whoa now. How the heck did you folks get locked in there?” George asks, meeting my eyes one last time for a small wink.

  What... he locked them inside?

  I spin around, quickly moving toward my next class, but as I grow closer, I realize Royce had it all covered from the start, and not for his benefit.

  For mine.

  I mean, in a weird, messed-up kind of way that also allowed him to do his thing, draw attention and get a read on my reality.

  A laugh makes its way up my throat.

  A good, true laugh.

  Not loud or bubbling, but one that allows a little bit of light inside.

  I should fear the airy sensation that’s evaded me for so long now, but instead I hold on to it.

  Because while the sun and the moon light our lives with a single glance, to feel that light is rare, and something that can’t be robbed from you before it should.

  Because a feeling comes from the inside, not the out.

  Chapter 4

  Royce

  Blue.

  No, not blue, teal.

  Fuck, not teal...

  A little deeper, a mix of both, but crisp and clear with an icy center.

  Turquoise.

  But what up with the swollen eyes and why’d her bitch cousin call her out like that?

  She seemed like a tiny pushover, but then she straight pushed the cousin over.

  Didn’t expect that from the tiny one.

  “You good over there?”

  My head snaps toward Mac and he chuckles. “Day dreamin’?”

  “Bro, fuck you.”

  He laughs harder, shaking his head. “For real, what’s up?”

  I lick my lips, facing forward.

  I don’t talk shit through with anyone but my brothers or Raven, but it’s just us here, so fuck it, yeah?

  “The chick who showed up out there?”

  He nods.

  “That’s her cousin. Notice how she looks a helluva lot more like Bishop than the other one, pale as fuck, dark hair, problem with the world?”

  “I did.” He shifts his body to face me better, fully aware there’s a lot more coming.

  “Couple days before Bass moved into the group home, Brielle was sent out here, meaning she wasn’t a part of our world anymore. A week after that, he came asking for her file, offering to work for free for the first two years in our world if we handed it over and let him get rid of it.”

  “Smart on his end.” He nods. “Got her out, waited, then asked knowing it would make no difference to you guys at that point.”

  I lean back. “Exactly. And it didn’t. As far as we were concerned, we did our part, the girl was set for a better life than the one she had, so we handed him what he wanted. We might have even respected the prick’s loyalty to his sister for his willingness to have less if it meant doing what he thought was right for her, keep her safe and away, or what-the-fuck-ever.”

  “And you still paid the guy ‘cause you wanted him to push himself.” He nods.

  Exactly.

  Mac gets it, he’s moving up in Brayshaw and learning the ins and outs, the strength of our pull in the circle around us.

  I lay it all out since he’ll be our main man soon, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

  “The thing about our files?” I shake my head. “They ain’t copies. They’re straight from the fucking county servers, deleted from record the second they touch our hands. Hospital visits, police reports, school fuck-ups. Poof, shit doesn’t exist, never happened.”

  He studies me, slowly dropping back against the door. “And when the Bishops’ files came to you guys, you were only freshmen, so you took your dad’s word after a quick look inside. You didn’t read them.”

  I nod. “Only read one, a report on assault charges against Bass to get an idea of how good his hands were.”

  “You came here with no clue who this girl was or what she was about.”

  “Nothin’ but a name and address, my man, and that shit cost a fuck-ton to get my hands on, so when I got here, saw the look-alike cousin, I told my ass that’s her, done fuckin’ deal.” I raise a brow. “I almost got got, bro. If the cousin didn’t give her up, I would have.”

  “Nah, man.” He shakes his head. “You’d have figured it out.”

  Maybe.

  Not very Brayshaw of me to jump to conclusions without proof.

  My brothers would whoop my ass.

  Or they’d try.

  Raven definitely would, and then maybe Brielle’s for fuckin’ with me, if she wasn’t pregnant with my brothers’ kid.

  Maybe even then.

  A small smile finds my lips at that, but even the thought of my family isn’t erasing the shit swimming in my head.

  Mac sees it.

  “That’s not what’s hot on your mind.” My friend knows me. “Lay it on me, man.”

  I lick my lips, glaring out the window.

  “Bass asked us to send her here because he said it was what was best for her then, that her family here loved her. Wanted her. That she’d have more here, a life. A future to build off of, like we were offering him.” I turn to Mac. “That the vibe you got?”

  Like I knew he would, Mac shakes his head no.

  When I decided I was headed this way, my only clear thought was to get here and toy with the little sister of the fucker who ticked me off, to tease or test her out a bit. After that, I’d leave, and with a spicy story to share with the punk the next time I saw him.

  But then what was supposed to be our dirty little meet and greet turned into a twisted ass grab and go, and fuck man.

  I don’t know.

  My instincts are teasing at the trigger, screaming something ain’t right.

  Her cousin and all the
bullshit she brings, the school...

  The ease surrounding her while in a car with a stranger.

  How it was nowhere to be found inside the school.

  “You’re staying.” He eyes me, but he didn’t ask a question and a response isn’t needed.

  I pull a joint from the glovebox and relax into the seat.

  “Thirsty?” Mac asks.

  I grin, lifting the joint. “’Bout to be.”

  Mac laughs, puts the car in drive, and off we go.

  I flick on the lighter, pull it to the tip and puff until it’s hitting good, the smoke rolling from my lips.

  Brielle Bishop.

  Tiny.

  Feisty.

  In for a fuckin’ ride.

  Brielle

  Right when I thought the nightmare was coming to an end with the glorious sound of the final school bell piercing my ears, I remember the way every Goosebumps book I’ve ever read ended, with realization the problem isn’t really gone, but still very much lurking, like the tattooed bad boy straight ahead, for instance.

  He leans against the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring straight at me.

  I release a heavy sigh and continue to hobble forward.

  With each step closer I grow, Royce’s chin lifts.

  I stop a few feet away from him. “You’re still here.”

  “And you’re damn excited about it.”

  A low laugh leaves me, and I cut a quick glance away, but I’m pulled right back when his arms drop.

  “You lied to me,” he says as he pushes off the curb, reaching out to blindly tug the back door open. “Now you owe me.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.” The refusal flies from me before I realize it’s coming.

  Royce’s hand pauses on the frame, my words freezing him there for a split second. Once he snaps out of it, he stalks toward me, confidence dripping with his every step, and he doesn’t stop until he’s a shuffle of his feet away.

  He licks his lips. “That a challenge?”

  I smother a laugh, shaking my head as I put some space between us. “Definitely not, but absolutely worth the mention.”

  He scans me a moment. “Get in the car, baby Bishop.”

  “If I don’t?”

  He laughs, but it’s mocking and short. “Funny. You’re funny.”

  That little bit of distance I created?

  He erases it, closing in on me with a cautionary glare. “See, my telling you to, was me being nice about it—”

  “An order is your idea of polite, got it. Keep going.”

  His face hardens more, and his eyes flash with something else, a mulled question he has no intention of sharing, but wants the answer to nonetheless. “You can refuse all you want, smart-ass, but know that either way your ass ends up in the car. You climb in or I pick you up and put you in, but you might wanna avoid that since your boy’s got his little runners watchin’.”

  I tense despite myself, but don’t look, and answer honestly. “I don’t care about them.”

  “Good.” He cocks his head. “Neither do I. Now get in.”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “Yes.”

  My leg bounces as I consider what he said before. “What do you mean I owe you, owe you what?”

  “Two truths for every lie.”

  “I’ll just lie again.”

  “Nah.” He flicks my hair, his eyes snapping to mine. “You won’t.”

  The sureness in his rich and gravelly tone has unease growing in the pit of my stomach.

  “You don’t know me.”

  “You sure?”

  Am I?

  Maybe he’s the person who’s been parking at the end of my street, watching me the last couple weeks. My brother did say they’re the only ones who sort of kind of knew where I ended up. I doubt he’d admit it if I asked, though.

  I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth, a small frown pulling at my lips as I consider what to do, and in the end, I’m rolling my eyes, stepping around him and sliding inside the damn car.

  And what do you know, Royce slips in beside me.

  Neither he nor Mac talk much on the drive, so I sit as quietly as they do until I realize we’re pulling up at one of the two hotels in this town.

  A heavy strain tugs at my muscles and I push my hands into the worn seats. “Yeah, no. I’m not about to go inside there with you two.”

  They laugh but say nothing, both climbing out and meeting near the back of the car.

  I start to sweat.

  Are they planning my demise?

  Confirming where to drop the body?

  Taking it back to Brayshaw where no one would dare come looking for it?

  Tension threatens to rise as I try to read their lips but fail. This could quickly turn into something really bad for me if I don’t stay calm, but then Mac passes off the keys to Royce as he steps up to another small car parked beside us, and with that one move, I’m able to settle myself.

  He opens the driver’s door, so I decide it’s safe for me to climb out and eavesdrop.

  “So you’ll go straight to the school, figure out what’s going on?” Royce asks him, glancing my way quickly when I close the door. “None of us will be back on campus until I’m home. My brothers are on a hump-cation until I get back.”

  Mac chuckles. “As soon as I get home, I’m there. I’ll find out what has the school on edge, check in throughout the day.”

  “Thanks, man, now go home to your girl, put her to bed.”

  Mac grins. “She’ll just be waking up by the time I get there.”

  “And she hasn’t been dicked down in a few days,” Royce jokes. “I believe in you.”

  Mac laughs, his fist lifting to meet Royce’s. “Later, bro.” He tips his chin, glancing at me with a smirk and low salute. “Later, Bishop.”

  I smash my lips together, offering a small wave, and then we watch him drive away.

  As I look back, I find Royce’s attention on me, where it stays for several seconds.

  Studying.

  Measuring.

  Curious?

  He looks off, slipping right into the driver’s seat so I make my way into the passenger’s.

  A few minutes up the road he pulls into a Cruiser’s station and unbuckles his seat belt, so I step out with him.

  As we walk in, he follows behind, crowding my space the second I open the glass door to the cold drinks.

  His pecs are pretty much equal with my shoulder blades, the buckle of his belt gently scraping at the high curve of my back as he presses me forward. He cages me there, shuffling closer until he’s so close, I have to bring my hand up to grip the cool plastic racks to keep me from falling against the shelving.

  In contrast with the chilled air blowing against my front, his heated breath burns along the skin behind my ear, and I incline my chin just enough to meet his eyes.

  “Are you trying to seduce me in the fridge of a mini-mart that smells like recycled mop water?”

  “Come on now, little Bishop, you’re smarter than that.” He leans in, his smirk a mischievous one. “If I wanted to seduce you, you’d be in my hotel room already.”

  Before I can blink, the chilled air wraps around my back, the heat of his body having disappeared, but you bet your ass he can hear my laughter wherever it is he ran off to.

  I smile to myself.

  Man, he’s seriously on that pro ho level.

  It’s over the top and unnecessary, but it’s also a breath of fresh air, loosening it a bit.

  With a shake of my head, I grab my drink, circling the back of the store in search of my go-to breakfast, and make my way toward the register.

  As I round one corner, Royce does the other, both of us already biting into our item of choice—a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles.

  His eyes narrow, dropping to the Yoo-hoo in my left hand as I spot the one tucked beneath his arm.

  “You don’t have to get the same shit I do,” he scolds me like a chi
ld. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

  My eyes widen. “Oh, I copied you? Nice try. What, you afraid to show your food of choice?”

  He glares. “This is my food of choice.”

  I shrug, biting at a small piece of the chocolate glaze before it falls and set my drink on the counter. “Well, mine, too, and before you convince yourself otherwise, know I can pay for a three-dollar meal.”

  He’s full of suspicion as he lowers his drink beside mine on the countertop, and with more force than necessary. He ignores what I said about paying, throws a twenty down, and walks out.

  He doesn’t speak once back in the car, and before I know it, we’re pulling up at my aunt’s house. He puts the car in park, grabs his phone, and starts pressing buttons.

  I hesitate, taking my time looping my backpack through my arms as I wait for some sort of insight as to why today happened, but he doesn’t take his face from his screen, so I step out and close the door behind me.

  My feet have barely crossed the curb when he’s pulling away.

  I’m not sure why he bothered to be there after school and insisted I ride with him when all he did was silently bring me back here, but does it really matter?

  I keep my head held high as I walk around to the back yard and set my bag down on the grass.

  From the far side of the house, I grab the small milk crate basket, and bring it around, laying out the blanket stuffed inside it, and flip the thing upside down.

  I allow myself five minutes to relax and enjoy my Yoo-hoo and the last bites of my donut, and then I get to work.

  I pull out my books and start on my homework, feeling guilty for wishing the light away, but so ready to be able to climb into bed and stare at the stars.

  Chapter 5

  Royce

  I drop onto the springy ass bed in the so-called suite and prop my phone up on the Bible I found in the drawer. The second I’ve got it planted right, my phone rings.

  I grin, answering the video call from my family.

  Raven is the first face to pop up on the screen, her black hair tied up on her head, baggy-ass hoodie covering her entire body.

  “Ponyboy!” She grins.

  “RaeRae, I fuckin’ miss your ass already.”