Break Me Page 83
“Tonight was just... a bad night.”
“There are always going to be bad nights. They don’t stop. They only get worse. Is that what you want?”
“This isn’t who he is. He’s upset with himself.”
He stops at a light, looking to me. “And that’s an excuse?!”
“What’s yours?!” I find myself shouting, growing defensive of the life I’m building here and the people in it.
My brothers face falls. “Brielle—”
“What’s your excuse, Bass?!”
“You were never supposed to come here,” he says instead. “I told you to lie. To be you and stay away and you’d be fine!”
“Why be me?!” I scream, shifting in my seat to face him full on. “Because he could never love a girl like me?! Because I’m not worth it?! Well, guess what, Bass, it wasn’t him I lied to. It was you!”
His head pulls back.
I keep my frown in place. “You asked me if he fell for your plan, and I said yes. I said yes because it was true. You told me to be me, to make sure Ciara was around when I was, so he’d see us both, and fall for the lie, and he did. He took one look at her, and just like you said he would, decided she was me. Bass Bishop’s tall, gorgeous, look-alike.”
“Brielle.” He shakes his head, but I don’t let him say more.
“What I didn’t tell you, was how she outed me not fifteen minutes later, so I stuck to your little plan. I did exactly what you said, like I always do.” I throw my hands out, letting them fall to my lap with a slap. “I was me, fully and completely, and what do you know, he didn’t hate me for it. He didn’t throw me away for being me, like you did.”
He blanches.
“Yeah, Bass, I know.” I glare. “I know now that you’re the one who made the decision for me. You had me sent away, split us apart. Not them. You.”
His eyes harden, flying over my shoulder. “He tell you that?”
“You know what, no he didn’t, but he should have. I gave him a lot of crap for it and not once did he throw that in my face when he could have so many times, and you know why?” I ask but don’t allow him to answer. “Because he knew how much you meant to me and that it would break my damn heart to find out the truth before I was ready for it.”
“He has you manipulated.”
“No,” I snap. “He doesn’t. But thanks for letting me know how unstable you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re unstable.” He shakes his head. “But you’re young. You—”
“I’m not young,” I cut in with a low laugh. “Bass, I’ve lived the life of a grown-ass adult since I was in grammar school, just like you. I’ve never been a kid and you know it. Neither of us had that honor.”
“You’re still my sister.” His knee bounces and he looks away. “And you’re not staying here, Brielle. I’m sorry, but you’re not.”
I push against the seat. “Well, I’m sorry, because it’s not your choice. You don’t get to do this, remember me when it’s convenient, and then show up when I finally no longer feel like I’m waiting for you.”
“We’ll talk about this at the hotel.”
“No.”
His head snaps toward me and he glares.
“Take me home.”
“Brielle—”
“I said take me home.” I stare straight ahead, an unexpected numbness crawling over me.
He wants to argue, but with a low curse, he heads that way.
Only when I’m climbing from the car, preparing to slam the door does he whisper, “This isn’t your home.”
I slam the thing as hard as I can.
I can’t believe I’ve been waiting for so long to see my brother face-to-face. To hug him and laugh with him and this is how our reunion goes.
Screw tonight!
Screw Royce Brayshaw and screw my brother.
I’m going to get high with my friend because I can, and then I’m going to pass out and hope tomorrow is a better day.
My hope went to shit.
The next day was as crappy as the one before, and today sucks just as much, but I can’t hide in my room anymore.
My brother has called me nonstop, showed up a half dozen times, and I’ve brushed him off each and every time.
I’m not ready to deal with him yet when everything else is so fucked-up.
The reality that surrounds him is the fact that he’ll be leaving, and when he does... is he leaving alone or with a plus one?
I can’t think about that right now, so I’m doing my best not to think at all, sitting on a park bench, taking hold of the joint Valine passes me.
“You look like shit.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, her pointy nails clicking together as she does.
I fight off a cough, grinning as I blow out a long line of smoke, trailing it until it disappears into the air. “Yeah, I could use a brush.”
“And maybe some eyeliner.”
I laugh, bumping my shoulder into hers. “Here, take your pinner back.”
“Bitch, you think I can afford to roll more than a half gram at once? Negative.”
I cut my eyes her way. “Can I ask how you make money?”
“Can I ask why you wear an ice mask to bed?” She pops a perfectly shaped brow. “Pre-punch by your man, that it?” she jokes to lighten the mood.
A scoffed laugh leaves me and I look away.
Touché.
My muscles have finally calmed enough to allow for a long exhale.
“Nice, right? Letting this shit chill you out?” She blows out a cloud of smoke, pulling in another and holding it. “My mom used to say it’s a street girl’s Xanax.” She nods, looking over the town. “Makes sense, I guess.”
I don’t push on the mom comment, I know it will only have her jumping up and flipping me off on her way out, so I go with something totally different.
“You know I hadn’t smoked in a year before the other night?”
“I haven’t smoked in nine months.”
Our heads cut over our shoulders to find Raven walking up.
Her eyes are on Valine. “I need to steal your friend.”
Valine leans forward, tilting her head. “I don’t know, I’m kinda not hating her right now.”
“I kinda don’t care.” Raven pulls a baggy from her pocket and holds it between two fingers.
Valine grins and pushes to her feet. “I kinda like you.” She walks away.
Raven watches her go, and then her eyes slide back to mine. “That’s been in the glovebox since before I got pregnant. It’s dry as shit, but she won’t figure it out until we’re done talking.”
A low chuckle leaves me. “I don’t think she’ll care.”
Raven nods and walks closer. “Broke girls never do. Weed is weed. An escape is an escape.” She speaks from experience.
Raven stands near the bench and looks out over the planter boxes. “I’d sit if it didn’t sting like a bitch to get up.”
“How are you feeling?” I pull my lips to the side.
She scoffs a laugh. “Like I did after I got stabbed.”