“That’s ‘cause you piss me off.”

“You piss yourself off.”

He glares and I laugh.

I spin around, bringing myself closer to the wall where the water comes about halfway up my stomach.

Royce’s eyes fall to my triangle top and thank god for padded swimsuits.

“Come on, Playboy.”

Slowly, his eyes lift to mine.

“Teach me how to swim?”

He stares a long moment. “I’ll have to touch you.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “Is that a problem for you?”

“It will be for you.”

I tip my head playfully. “Oh yeah, how so?”

He scoffs, a small tug playing on his lips as his body suddenly loses all of its tension. He walks forward as fast as the water allows him to and smirks. “Clearly you’ve never been touched by a Bray.”

Oh, he’s got jokes.

Okay.

I plant my feet against the wall, grip the edge, turn to look at him, and smirk back. “I’ve never been touched at all.”

I kick off, holding my breath longer than I should as I glide through the water. When I pop up, it’s with a loud gasp. I look toward Royce.

He has yet to move his body, but his eyes, they followed.

I can’t see them from here, the moon now at his back, but I know they’re on me.

Without a word, he climbs out, grabs his clothes.

He leaves.

Ten minutes later Mac is coming through the gate, offering me a ride back to the house.

His ‘offer’ sounds a lot like a requirement, so I accept, and ten minutes after that, I’m stepping into the shower in my bedroom.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know I’m awoken to the sound of my phone ringing.

I frown when I see it’s Ciara who is calling, but quickly answer and bring it to my ear.

“Hey.”

Sniffles sound on the other end and I push against my headboard. “Ciara?”

“Hey,” she whispers.

I frown. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom,” she says quietly, as if she has to whisper. “She’s a piece of shit.”

“What happened?”

“You left.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out, so I wait for her to speak.

“When I heard you were carried out of school, I went home to... you know, see if you were okay or whatever.” She clears her throat, and my lips twitch. “When I got there Micah was just leaving with all your shit, which is so fucking weird by the way.” A low laugh leaves her.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I mumble.

“Franky sort of had a fit about that, too, by the way. He’s convinced you two must have been screwing around before that...” She trails off.

I drop my head against the headboard. I hate that for her.

She’s quiet for several seconds before adding. “A guy showed up at the house an hour or so after Micah left.”

“What guy?”

“I don’t know who he was, but he had a smile and a chocolate cake and so she let him in. Right away he started asking her all these questions about you and your brother.”

I sit up. “Like what?”

“If she talked to him before you left, if he knew you left. My mom got pissed, she figured you told people about your life before us, about her brother, but I just assumed he was a friend of Bass’ or something, you know?”

“So what happened?”

“I don’t even know,” she begins to cry, guilt heavy in her tone. “She started yelling at the guy and I just... took off and haven’t been back. I left her in the house with some wannabe square with a freaking comb-over.” She pauses. “I just couldn’t deal. I’m so tired of this crap, Brielle.”

I nod, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arm around them. “I know.” I was too. “So where’s your mom now?”

“Sitting in room 104 with tubes in her arm.” She clears her throat. “She’ll be fine, I guess.”

My eyes widen. “She’s in the hospital?”

“It’ll do her some good to be clean for a few days, something about too much Valium.” She scoffs. “I didn’t even know she was mixing pills with her liquor.”

My brows pull.

Mixing pills with liquor...

No. Can’t be.

Why would Royce send someone to my house after Micah?

He wouldn’t need to, right?

I need to talk to my brother.

Where the hell is my brother?

“Are you okay where you are, Brielle?” she whispers.

I nod. “Yeah. I am.”

“Good,” she swallows. “That’s good. Don’t come back here, okay?”

She knows I don’t plan to, but this helps her feel like she has some sort of control over her life. So I leave her to have it.

“Okay, Ciara,” I breathe into the line, and then it goes dead.

I pause a moment, and then try calling my brother, but get no answer. Again.

So I get up and get ready for school, Ciara’s words heavy on my mind.

Who came to my aunt’s and what the hell did he want?

As I step into the living room, I spot Maybell on the couch. “Everyone’s gone?”

“You didn’t come out, so I thought you might want to take a day.” Maybell stands, coming over to me.

“I was talking to my cousin, and then I tried to get a hold of my brother, but he hasn’t answered in days. It’s not like him.”

I wait, hoping she’ll offer some insight on why he wouldn’t, but she doesn’t, and hey, maybe she’s unaware of the things the boys send their team to handle.

“You can wait, if you need to, child.” Maybell’s eyes scan over the red swollenness framing mine.

I offer a tight small shrug. “If I skipped every time this happens, I’d have failed a long time ago. There will be a next time, and then another, until... well. Until there isn’t,” I tell her even though I get the sense she’s fully aware.

She pulls in a full breath, a slow nod following, “You know, sometimes having my boys at your side makes the world around you real dark.” Her smile’s slow and real. “But every now and again, someone comes along who realizes the world around them holds no light... when they’re not.”

Something inside me twists at her perfectly chosen words.

A world of darkness.

That’s what I’m risking by being here.

If she knows this, she doesn’t voice it, but pats my cheek.

“Will you remember something for me?” she asks, speaking before I can respond. “I need you to remember what feels like the end, is always the beginning. My boys are tough, but I’ve known for some time that breaking into a certain one’s soul would prove to be the hardest battle yet. So just... remember those words, will you, child?”

I swallow, nod, and she does the same, leaving me in the living room alone.

With a deep breath, I head out the front door, and I’m met with an SUV full of Brayshaws.

Instantly, Royce’s eyes meet mine and narrow.

“You’re here.”

“I knew you’d step out eventually.” He takes in my swollen skin but doesn’t comment. He pushes off the back door, pulling it open for me.