Break Me (Brayshaw, #5)

by Meagan Brandy

To those walking in darkness, may you find your North Star, and one day feel the light.

It’s like cocoa without the whipped cream—lacking the full, glorious experience.

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.

Family runs deeper than blood.

Don’t underestimate what you don’t know, and once you do, tear it to pieces or tip your fuckin’ hat.

“Bitch.” Victoria draws my attention with a smile. “I’m his now, tomorrow, always... and you.” She nods with a smirk, her eyes falling to the crowbar in Royce’s hand, slowly coming back to mine. “Are off to a good start.”

“You want to play, Tink, play,” he rasps headily. “Take. Demand.” His eyes darken and he leans forward, pressing the left curve of his lips to my ear, gliding them slightly, as if he has a need to press them against me, but he refuses himself. “Demand... and receive, my little Tink.”

“I want to be the guy a girl closes her eyes at night and sees. The one she wakes thinking about ‘cause she wants to fuck me or fuck with me, fight with me. And not because she wants to gain something or prove something, but because I’m all that she can see and she feels blind without me, even if she wishes she didn’t sometimes. I want to be her light and dark and, yeah, sometimes her fucking nightmare. A fucking king in her

eyes and she’d be all those things right back, the queen in mine. Of mine.”

She smiles, and without a hint of mockery. It’s pure and true and... fuck me, it’s gorgeous. She’s gorgeous. Beautiful.

Like she hopes to someday, somewhere find the same things? Like she hopes she has?

Pizza freaking pocket.

Screw your little Pisces complex.

I’m so sorry, brother. It’s time for you to live your life without having to worry about mine.

“And who’s gonna tell her, huh?” Laugh. Ache. Why’d I say that?

Did my words hurt, baby?

I hate her, she don’t listen. I like her, she challenges me. I can’t stand the sight of her, she distracts me. I can’t function when she’s out of sight, she’s all I want to see.

Let them see his mark on my skin.

“For the record, as far as I’m concerned you were already mine, and baby girl... know that I’m yours.”

It’s Bass who speaks first. “You’re in his house...” He trails off, pushing to his full height, and we both slip closer. “I know what this place means to them, to him. If you’re inside this house, then you’re...” His features pull tight. She gives a small smile. “Inside his heart?” Fuck me, my chest pounds heavy.

His jaw tics, the tension on his face doubling. “Brielle,” he edges. Her eyes find mine and I have to grip the porch railing to keep myself standing. Baby girl...

brothers come to stand before her, and Bass’ eyes shoot wide. “Are you for fucking real?!” he shouts. “You want to guard her from me? That’s my fucking sister!”

He curses under his breath, then forces his gaze to mine. “Tell me, Brayshaw, would you jump in front of a bullet for her?” “And make sure it stopped on me.”

If bones break from the depth of words spoken, mine would be in pieces beneath her. My fucking queen. I said I never wanted to be a king, and I meant it, but fuck me if I don’t feel like one now.

“You are in my eyes,” she breathes, and my features tighten. Slowly she starts grinding her sweet spot over me. “You’re the one and only, all-ruling, all-consuming, king in mine. Of mine.” “Damn fuckin’ straight.” I rasp, growl, and groan. And then I flip her on her back, slide inside and hold there.

The three of us by each other’s sides. The kings to our queens. The boys of Brayshaw.

Now is the time to enjoy what we have... front row seats to watch as the boys of Brayshaw High grow into the men of the Brayshaw mansion.

My baby bought me my own star and named it Tink. Of course, he said I couldn’t be anywhere he wasn’t, so he bought himself one two, and named it Lost Boy.

“Twins.” He speaks, but not to me. “Not even while you grow strong enough to meet the world, will you be alone.” My chest swells. My lonely, lost boy.

A silver one. Spearing from one side to the next are two stars that almost meet in the middle, one slightly raised over the other, each with small diamonds trailing their path, designed to look like shooting stars in the sky.