Page 19 of Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

It’s not normal for us to be apart.

We live and breathe for each other, with each other.

We don’t need words to speak, we don’t need action to understand.

We’re like triplets, connected way deeper than most. We talk without words, understand with action. We breathe for each other. We’re three assholes who couldn’t be any more different, yet somehow, we’re still the same. We’re a team with an empire ready and waiting for us.

I scoff, thinking of what Brielle called us—the Three Musketeers.

I guess that works in a way, even though our threesome has grown to five.

I’m the odd man out now.

The leftovers.

“Royce...” Raven eases.

My eyes snap to hers, and concern brings creases to her forehead.

She leans closer to the screen, frown growing. “You good?”

“Damn good, if I’m judging myself.”

There you go, deflect like a motherfucker.

She scoffs a laugh, but we all know what she’s gettin’ at.

“So, what up? How’s the hump-cation going now that you’re practically a fuckin’ continent away in the back wing of the house? I see you can still sit and stand as well as that belly allows, Madman must not be—”

“I’ll fuck you up, brother,” Maddoc cuts me off with a glare.

“But I’m so far away.” I grin.

He chuckles, flipping me off as he takes a drink from a water bottle.

“We’re good, Ponyboy.” Raven smirks. “Good mornings, afternoons... nights.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

She laughs, her eyes moving to Maddoc when he reaches out and I know what’s coming.

And there she fuckin’ is.

Bouncy blonde curls pulled up tight, little strands framing her face, and a megawatt smile pointed right at me. “Uncle Bro!” our princess screams, leaning as close as possible to the screen.

“Zoey Bear! I miss you!”

“I miss you!” She giggles. “Uncle D said you want me to watch cartoons with him tomorrow ‘cause you’re not home.”

“Uncle D is a li—”

“Okay,” Cap cuts me off with a glare and I fight a grin.

We might be fucked-up assholes, but we’re trying to teach our niece, Cap’s baby girl, our way of life, and one of the biggest pieces to keeping it as straight as we’ve managed is our no lie rule. No matter how big the issue, how fucked-up we imagine the aftermath of the truth, that’s what we give. Always.

Sure, this is tiny and nearly irrelevant as far as dishonesties go—my brother trying to compete for that top uncle spot with me—but to a toddler, a lie is a lie.

So I smile for my niece, nodding my head, and damn, she gives back.

Maddoc chuckles to himself and I flip him off when Zoey looks to her dad as he stands up and disappears from sight.

“So what’s on the menu tonight?”

Light chuckles leave them, and they all look to Raven.

I try to push away the hint of seclusion it brings. I mean, fuck, I’m the one who came here without them when they’d have hopped in the car with me without a question asked had I asked them to.

Still, that nasty sense of fish out of fucking water creeps in.

Raven notices, her eyes narrowing, but I avoid eye contact.

“Well, we ordered Chinese at the pregnant lady’s request,” Victoria teases.

“But she said it tasted like shit,” Maddoc grumbles. “I swear to God, all she wants to eat is Doritos with hot sauce and sweets.”

I laugh, making a mental note to stock up on loads of bad-for-you shit for her when I get home.

Cap comes back, setting a plate in front of Zoey, and she climbs down to eat.

“What is that?”

“Fried chicken. And guess what he fried it in?” Victoria raises a playful brow. “Crushed up Doritos.”

I smile and Maddoc shakes his head at his girl, grabbing two plates from Captain and then they’re all on screen again, food in hand.

Maddoc nods his chin at my bag, so I tear it open and pull out a fat tri-tip sandwich.

“Not much to pick from around here, but they’ve got enough barbeque shit to last a lifetime.”

All three give light nods.

I know they want to ask where ‘here’ is, but they won’t. They know I’ll tell them the truth if they do, but the fact that I didn’t offer it up means I don’t feel like sharing yet, and they won’t push unless they feel the need to.

Instead, Cap asks, “Mac head out already?”

“Yup,” I say through a mouthful. “He’ll be there by morning.”

My brothers nod but not Raven.

“You’re fine without him?” She watches me closely.

“I’m a big-ass boy, RaeRae,” I tease.

She drops her fork with a click that echoes through the speaker. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. You’re by yourself. Away from us.”

“I’m good.”

“Says the guy who hates riding in the back seat by his damn self.”

A choked cough disguised as a laugh fills the stale smelling room, and I shift on the bed.

“For real, I’m fine.”