Page 110 of Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

“Where is Enoch now?” Cap asks.

“I’ve got Micah and Jenson keeping him locked in a room down the hall. Didn’t want him to go off half-cocked again.”

“And Taylor?” Victoria asks, lifting Phoenix from Raven’s arms.

I nod, looking to Cap. “We had them bring her up to the Bray wing so she’s not bothered by people from the school, and so we can talk to her without anyone around when she’s up for it.”

“I don’t think she’ll talk to you guys.” Comes from Brielle, and all our eyes move to her. “Let me go to her.”

My brows snap to the center. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“It might be your only option.” She offers a small smile. “You’ll make her nervous and she’ll forget things or hold back. You guys are intimidating, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You scare the fuck out of me.”

She laughs, a softness in her eyes.

Around the room, my family looks between the two of us, and I know the shift is clear. They see.

“Trust me,” she whispers. “I’m... kind of good with this stuff.”

Captain steps up. “She’s right. Calm and caring ain’t our area.” He points a soft look at Brielle, one that reaches deep inside my chest. “This is perfect for her.”

Maddoc scowls. “Don’t forget you just ran over her dude’s fucking hand. She might hate you.”

Brielle glances his way, the corner of her mouth lifted a bit. “But he knows better than to tell who did it, right?”

Maddoc smirks. “That’s right. Just making sure you realized that before you went and apologized the second she looked at you.” He glares but it’s playful. “Seems like somethin’ you’d do.”

Brielle chuckles. “I’d probably have thought about it, yeah.”

Maddoc looks to me and tips his chin.

My girl, my call.

I frown at Brielle. “What are you gonna say to her?”

Brielle pushes to her feet and gives a slow shrug. “Nothing. I’m going to sit with her, and then let her say whatever she needs to say to me.”

She reaches for the note and Captain doesn’t hesitate in handing it over to her.

“I don’t get it.”

She steps up to me and pats at my chest with a hint of tease. “You don’t have to. You just have to trust me when I say it will work.”

She tries to walk by, but I grip her wrist, yank her back to me, lift her chin. “I do.”

“I know.” She smiles, pulls herself free, and walks out.

I follow her with my eyes, and when I look back, everyone is focused on me.

“Business, huh, Royce?” Victoria teases.

I flip her off with a smirk.

Fuck business.

That’s my baby.BrielleAs I walk up to the door Taylor is behind, I find who must be her parents standing in front of it embracing. I consider walking away and giving them more time, but the man spots me when his teary eyes open.

He loosens his hold on the woman, and they both turn to me.

“Mr. and Mrs. Simms?” I guess.

They nod.

“I’m Brielle, I go to school with Taylor.”

Her mom begins to cry. “We feel like such failures.”

I nod, placing my hand on her arm. “Some people are very good at hiding. I was.”

I don’t break down what I hid as the situation is very different, but as I hoped it would, a little light sparks in her eyes. To see me standing here gives her some sort of hope when she feels so lost.

“She won’t talk to us.” The woman clutches her husband. “She doesn’t even want us in the room.”

My lips pull to the side, and I point over my shoulder. “There’s a little coffee bar around the corner, it’s specific to this floor so you won’t run into anyone accept maybe a Brayshaw or two, and they won’t bother you.”

They understand, but fear has them clutching each other tighter.

“Please, trust me.”

After a second, her parents nod, and the way her mom grips my shoulders as she walks by is beautifully heartbreaking.

With a deep breath, I slip inside the room.

Taylor doesn’t even open her eyes. “Please, Mom. Not now,” she rasps.

“They went to get coffee.”

Her lids fly open and she frowns. “Brielle?”

I nod, walking farther into the room, and taking the seat a few feet away. “You know my name.”

“Everyone knows your name after Royce’s little claim at the school.”

“Yeah, that was—”

“Sweet where he’s concerned,” she cuts me off, her tone low and tired.

A low laugh leaves me. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Her smile is a sad one, and she looks away. “Why are you here? I don’t even know you, and I don’t feel like talking.”

I nod, reaching for the remote, and sit back. “I know.”

I click on the TV, skip to a cooking show and turn the volume all the way down.

We sit there, silently watching as a pile of vegetables turns into an entire meal. It’s about fifteen minutes later when she sighs from her hospital bed.