He’s not.

I see it when he looks at his sister-in-law, at Victoria, and his brothers.

He craves what they have, but he doesn’t believe he can have it, too.

This world, it can seem tame at times, but there is always more going on under the surface waiting to be weeded out. The boys’ past is only one example of that.

Royce is no stranger to darkness, the pain it can bring, and the unscalable mountains that rise from ash.

Pain recognizes pain.

I run my fingers over the purplish-red marking he left behind for me to find this morning, knowing I’d replay how it came to be.

It’s dark and angry, like him.

The corner of my mouth lifts, and I glide my fingers from the hickey to my lips. I trace over them with the pad of my middle finger. I think they’re still a little swollen. Raw.

I look into my eyes, at the turquoise within them, at the hint of red fogging up the edges, but I don’t care.

The light will still shine through.

My hand comes up to my hair, subconsciously reaching for my scar, but I spot it in the mirror and force it back down.

I step back, smiling at the girl in the mirror, and unexpected moisture fills my eyes, because for the first time, the girl who smiles back?

I believe her.

I help with breakfast at the home but skip out on the chores since Maybell continues to remind me it’s not my job to help. I feel bad about it, but not bad enough to stay behind this time.

I walk to the main street of town, grab a donut from the donut shop Raven told me about, and spend some time checking out the shops.

As a kid, I don’t remember ever coming to town. Our parents kept us on the outskirts, away from people, so it’s all new to me.

The stores are smaller, independent-like places. There is nothing commercial or mainstream here, not even the grocery stores. They’re all family named and owned, if I had to guess. Members of the Brayshaw community who understand the rules and want to be a part of it, following generations before them.

I walk across the park and into the market located beside it to grab what I came out for. Once I have it, I head back for the house.

“Brielle?” My name is called.

I turn, bending to allow myself to see through the open window, and the guy inside of it pulls his glasses off, pushing his hat up to show his blond hair. “August, hey. How’s it going?”

He nods with a grin. “Not bad. Let me give you a ride.”

I pause, my eyes dropping to a pile of treats in the passenger seat. “I’m okay, thanks, besides it looks like you have some serious gorging plans. I’d hate to keep you from all that chocolate.”

His eyes dart down, and a stiff laugh leaves him. “A gift for a friend.”

“Nice.” I smile.

“Get in, I can spare you one. Give you a ride wherever you’re headed.” He unlocks the door, waiting.

I shake my head. “I appreciate it, but I’m really enjoying the sun. And hey, nice car. No more bus for you, huh?”

“Turtleneck, huh?” His eyes fall to my top in a pointed look, but he grins a little.

I laugh, heat creeping up my neck, not that he can see it. “At least it’s sleeveless. I feel like I finally understand why such a shirt exists.”

He nods, the corners of his eyes tightening, but he smiles through it. “You might be on to something there.” He looks forward, drumming on the steering wheel a few times before he turns back to me. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

I nod.

“Okay.” He drops his eyes to the bag in my hand. “Well, I should go. Can’t hold up traffic.”

I laugh. There isn’t a single car behind him. “You do that.”

He lifts two fingers. “See you around, Bishop.”

I nod. “Yeah, see you around.”

With that, I head back for the house.

I stuff the two sandwiches in the freezer, wrap up the box with a grin, and make my way to the Brayshaw mansion.

I’m not exactly nervous to see him after last night, but I am a little unsure, and pretty dang good at an icebreaker.

So, with that thought in mind, I slip from the trees, around the backs of the SUVs and set the shiny silver wrapped item on the porch bench, quickly slinking away.

My plan is to go find Valine and convince her to watch a movie with me, but as I step off the last stair, both feet now on the ground, the door swings open behind me. Several voices fill the air... and simultaneously cut off.

My back burns knowing they’re staring, and not knowing if they’re angry I’m so close to their home.

I consider pretending I don’t hear them, but as quick as the door opens, a soft, sweet voice shouts for them to ‘hurry up’, and then the sound of light footsteps are padding against the wood.

“Zoey, wait!” Victoria shouts, but it’s too late.

Zoey’s little shadow falls over my feet.

I turn around, and there she is, teetering on the edge of the last step, maybe three away from me, Victoria now at her side, her arms half thrown in front of her, shielding her while holding her back.

My ribs grow tight, the charge in the air a powerful one, even with a good hundred feet between her and me.

The hairs on my arms rise slightly, and I can’t fight the slight lift of my lips.

Victoria is a mother, the little one at her side her entire world.

Loved and protected, as every child should be.

I’d bet she isn’t fearful of what I may do, fully believing in Royce and the choices he makes, but as I said... she’s a mother, and her little one trumps all.

I allow my eyes to move back to Zoey, and my smile grows freely.

“Hi.” She watches me curiously.

“Hi.”

“Uncle Bro said his friend is coming today. Are you his friend?” She whips around, running back before I can answer.

My eyes follow her, straight to Royce.

He bends, ready for her when she throws herself into his arms.

“Uncle Bro, is that your friend?” Zoey smiles, laying her head on Royce’s shoulder. “I like her hair.”

She’s so cute, her pronunciation still not quite clear.

He kisses her head, his eyes hot—the good kind—and on me. “Yeah, Zoey Bear. That’s my friend, and she’s in troooouble.”

A sharp zing runs down my back, heat rising to my cheeks

Zoey’s head pops up and she gasps. “What’d you do?” The cutest, tiniest little scowl takes over her face.

I laugh, noticing the others do too, even if they try to hide it.

“Look at that mean mug, Zo.” Captain grins, shifting to take her from his brother. He kisses her temple, bouncing her lightly. “You be nice.”

Her face falls and she kicks to be let down.

Captain hesitates, looking to Royce. They have a silent conversation that leads to Captain, very, very slowly, lowering his daughter back to the ground.

She runs right up to me, Victoria making her way down the steps behind her.

I bend, bringing myself closer and she drops her chin to her chest, her pretty blue-green eyes lifting and sad.

“Daddy said I was mean,” she whispers or tries to. It’s loud enough for everyone around to hear. “Did I hurt your heart?”

At her words, my heart does sort of feel hurt, but it’s more of an honest kind of ache.