Because I want to.

Do I want to?

Questions knock heavily within my mind, but they’re a jumbled mess of half spurred thought.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

I look inside the dimly lit space and back to him. And then I slide inside.

It’s not until we’re pulling up at an airstrip where Mac stands outside of a small plane with the airstairs open and waiting, that I remember I’m the underdog, locked in a car with the top dog.

My head snaps to Royce, who watches me intently.

My mind races as I stare at the stranger in front of me, at a guy I was warned about, and for some reason, my head decides to nod when not a question was asked.

Satisfaction flashes across him, but it’s gone as soon as he blinks and slowly, he steps out, helping me right behind him.

Royce’s eyes move between mine. “Hope you’re ready, little Bishop.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Ready for what... exactly?”

He looks up at the plane that has his last name printed large and proud on the side with open eyes and an answer that steals my voice. “To come home.”

A harsh and fast breath slips past my lips and my palm flies to my stomach, in an attempt to settle the somersaults going strong inside it.

Home.

As in to Brayshaw.

I think I’m going to puke.

Chapter 8

Royce

I spent the last twenty-four hours going back and forth with myself, but if I’m real, I knew before I even made it home I’d see her again and why—to bring her home with me.

Like I talked to the girls about, I don’t know what happened to any of the people we didn’t bring into our group homes, but I do know what happened to this one, so I’m going to fix what was fucked.

It was on the word of a punk who believed he knew what was best for her that we sent the girl away in the first place, but now I know that punk was wrong.

All this time she could have had a team behind her, a brother next door, a life to fucking live, but instead she’s been alone in the dark when darkness is what he wanted to shield her from. A different form of darkness, sure, but still. The girl was stuck with an aunt who hated the mere sight of her. She was a personal little Ms. Fuckin Fix It, had a cousin who treated her like shit, in a town she wanted nothing from because she knew they’d never accept her.

He’d understand all that if he spent ten minutes there, which is exactly how I know he hasn’t.

If he were smart, he’d realize he left her with nothing.

Nothing but a curious little mind.

Who better to open it up for her than me?

This worked out perfectly, really. I’m giving her a chance at a life that was taken from her and I get to use her to spite Bass while doing it, all in one move.

A smirk finds my lips.

I’m going to give the girl the opposite of everything Bass wanted for his baby sister, make her realize exactly why big bro wanted her far, far away... once she realizes it was he who made the call.

In the end, it’ll all be Bishop’s fault.

He chose to shelter her when he should have put some fuckin’ time into her, teach her how to eat up and spit out assholes like me. And he could have with ease. She’s got fire, that’s easy to see, but nobody’s fed it.

Lucky for me, he didn’t, and now I get to have my cake and eat it too.

Mac pulls me from my thought when he takes the seat across from me, glancing down the small aisle where Brielle is taking a second to breathe.

“So she agreed.” He keeps his voice low.

I pull a bottle of Crown from the center pocket between the seats, offering him a shot as I pour my own. “She didn’t refuse.”

He raises a brow, taking the small glass and bringing it to his lips. “If she had?”

I laugh, keeping my gaze on his as I reach inside the console again, lift and set down a third cup.

He grins, shakes his head and downs his in one long swig.

I sit back and swirl mine around, my focus glued to the amber liquid.

If I had to guess, I’d say she understood.

She was coming whether she wanted to or not.

But I’m not convinced she didn’t want...

Brielle

Holy crap, I shouldn’t be here.

I should call my brother.

I definitely should not call my brother.

I mean, he’ll figure it out soon enough—the plane ride is only an hour and a half long.

If Bass knew how living with my aunt really was, I have no doubt he’d have found a way to come back for me, but I have never said a word because I didn’t want him to give up the chance he was given.

The Brays may not have wanted me, the puny little sister then, but they wanted him, and he deserved a chance in hell and more after freeing us from ours. I owe him my life, and I’ll likely never be able to repay him for all he’s done for me, but this might be my chance to earn my own.

I would be a fool not to take it.

If everything works out, Bass will get to keep the life he loves, save the money he earns, and I get my brother back.

That might be the only reason I even stepped onto this plane.

I run my fingertips along the cool, marble countertops and pluck a grape that hangs from a bundle draped perfectly over the edge of a crystal vase that I really hope is glued in place.

I spin around, leaning against the counter, my eyes landing on the plush, ribbed white seats.

I’ve never been on a plane, and now I’m on a fancy private one with a guy I was never meant to meet.

Who was supposed to leave my aunt’s little town believing my cousin was me and never look back.

I sigh, running my hands over my face and into my hair, gripping it loosely only to let it fall back into place.

God, this is so far from how any of this was meant to go.

Royce showed up on Tuesday morning and come that night, he was gone.

I woke up Wednesday prepared to begin the whole ‘forget the Bray’ process.

But then I got to school, and who happened to be walking up at the same exact moment as me?

Travis.

I steeled myself for his insult, but it never came. In fact, when he noticed me, he forced his eyes to skate right by. His black eyes, and just like that, the night before made sense.

Royce had rushed back into the diner to make sure his little show wasn’t one that would be shared, because he didn’t want me to have to deal with what I told him would follow.

After that, I spent most of the day overanalyzing everything that happened when he was here. How he got upset when Franky put his hands on me, how my cousin acting like an ass bothered him, his little freak-out over me being outside at night alone and how he later played it down.

A smile finds my lips.

That might have been my favorite part, along with everything that followed.

I got to talk to someone that night, really talk, and about things that nobody cares to hear from me. Maybe I gave too much, but I don’t care.

It felt good and Royce... I knew he heard me. Really heard me. It was all there, in his shadowy eyes.

I decided, like I pretend the bad in my life has a purpose, Royce pretends he’s this cavalier Casanova, but in my short time with him, I recognized the truth.

Royce Brayshaw has a heart.