Page 10 of Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

“That’s a lot to risk for a guy like him,” Mac eases. “Came empty-handed, had nothing but what he earned under your name.”

I know what he’s trying to say, and I get it.

Bishop showed loyalty to Raven, same as he did us since the day he set foot on our grounds, and I’m supposed to respect him for that. For helping one of us when she needed it, for having her back when we weren’t there to do it, no questions asked, no consequence too big.

But I can’t.

To be real, I don’t hate the fucker. I can’t lie and say I didn’t think he would keep my sister-in-law safe, because I did. But it wasn’t his place, it was mine.

Maddoc was fucked-up, Cap was laid up, and all that was left was me.

And then he stepped in again, pissed me off and now I want to piss him off, and what better way to do that than play with the sister he thinks is out of reach?

No one is out of my reach.

Am I being a bitch? Don’t know or care.

Sister for a sister makes sense to me.

Maybe that’s twisted, maybe I’m twisted, but I never claimed to be the sane one, that’s Captain.

Maddoc is the angry alpha, and me, I’m the fuckin’ wild one.

The time bomb.

Unpredictable and admittedly, unhinged.

I see things a little different, through a haze of rage most of the time, and yeah, I hold a grudge like a champ.

But I’d like someone to come to me, tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to respect someone who would risk himself like that, for a girl he hardly knows, yet ditches his own fucking sister without a blink?

I know better than anyone blood doesn’t count, me and my brothers share none, but Bass loves her. That’s why he sent her away, to protect her from the big bad fucking wolves, right? From the darkness he said she’ll fall into, and claims she’s not meant for?

The punk didn’t even have the balls to tell her straight-up he made that choice. That he’s the one who felt it was better for her.

Fuck him.

He wants to step into my family, insert himself where he’s not wanted. Touché, motherfucker.

Consider me inserted.

Brielle will know me and she’ll know me fucking well.

“We’re not waiting out here all day, are we?” He smirks.

“Nah, my man.” My eyes slide to the red double doors Brielle disappeared through. “We’re not.”BrielleWith a water bottle in hand, I follow the flow of students out into the quad, only for my feet to cement themselves moments later.

Is it possible to have a nightmare during the day... when you’re wide awake?

The view in front of me screams yes, yes, it is.

Royce stands in the center of the basketball court, passing a ball between his loosely planted feet with ease, shoulders strong, but in a careless kind of way, head tipped back and to the side the slightest bit—cocky and carefree. Assertive.

An unquestionable alpha.

I follow his line of sight to the group of five guys standing closer to the left side of the hoop, all with a different question written across their faces, and my stomach twists.

These guys, they aren’t simply school randoms. They’re the starting five on the team, and Royce must have straight-up walked into the middle of their game, claimed their ball as his own, and they’re not happy about it.

I look back to Royce.

He’s standing off against a foreign group of males, in a school he has no pull at, a school where nobody knows the repercussion that comes with simply looking at a Brayshaw wrong, let alone squaring off against one. Still, Royce shows not a hint of concern.

I slip my glasses on as the crowd shuffles me closer, whispers now floating through the manure-stenched air.

It’s a bunch of “Who is that?”, “Is he new?” and “Look at those tattoos.”

“Damn, he’s hot,” the girl at my side says, knocking an elbow into her friend. “Look at those lips.”

I know, right?

A wolf in a god’s body.

A god in his own sense.

An anomaly.

It must suck, to be that enigmatic and now that I’ve met him, spoken to him, I know the mystery isn’t only on the outside, but woven within.

He could try his hardest, and if he’s human like the rest of us, he may have a time or two, and still, he’d be incapable of getting lost in a crowd.

Like the North Star in a dark night’s sky, he burns too bright to hide.

How exhausting that must be.

I, however, can blend with the best of ‘em.

Or maybe it’s the worst of them since the beautiful, boisterous ones never could.

My eyes glide across the old blacktop as Mac appears along the other side of it, doing his best to slip into the crowd. He gives a small, almost unnoticeable tip of his chin, and while Royce makes no move to look his way, my guess is he caught it.