Brielle

I lift my hand to my brother’s bruised and busted face, and the tears he’s fought hard to keep locked in place slip free, my own following.

“Big brothers aren’t supposed to cry.”

“Little sisters aren’t supposed to die.”

“They brought me back.” My voice is a scratchy whisper, coated in a heavy layer of overflowing emotion, but my attempt to tease, to lighten the far too grim mood, works a little.

His frown deepens, but his lip twitches. “Yeah and thank fuck for that.” He trails the bruising on my cheek up to my temple. “What you did was reckless.”

My mouth pulls to one side and I nod. “I know.”

We both know I can’t apologize for it, because I’m not sorry.

His face falls and my lungs ache, but it has nothing to do with my injuries, and everything to do with what I know is coming. “You need to leave.”

His eyes snap to mine. “I won’t,” he swears. “If you say you need me, I won’t.”

“But...”

He sighs, his face tightening as he shakes his head. “But you’ve already said you don’t, and as hard as it is to admit, I believe you.”

I tilt my head to peek over his shoulder, and meet the eyes of not one, but four Brayshaws.

A low laugh leaves me, and when I wince, everyone winces with me.

My hand falls to clasp around my brother’s, and I look into the eyes of the person who taught me how to love and how to reach for more.

“I will always need you, Bass. No matter who I have...” I swallow. “Or who I lose. I will always need my brother, but that doesn’t mean you have to be here to be here,” I whisper. “You can go home without guilt and keep working on the happiness you’re chasing but have yet to discover.”

His jaw flexes. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I promise. “You’ve been sitting beside me for four days. I can’t imagine the new world you’ve found can run smoothly without you in it.”

His lips smash together, and he raises a teasing, dark brow. “You have no idea.”

“I object to that statement.”

We look toward the door to find the blonde he rode in with, and he sighs.

She walks in the room, and both Victoria and Raven push to their feet, making her smirk grow, but as her eyes come to mine, it smoothes out. She runs her tongue along her teeth, swallowing. “For the record, by helpless little lamb, I meant worried big brother.”

Bass’ brows pull but he doesn’t turn to look at her.

She licks her lips. “So, yeah. See you around, or hopefully, I don’t. No offense, I’m just sort of... trying to shake a stray.”

Bass rolls his eyes and I glance from him to her.

“No offense,” I say right back. “But you don’t really seem like his type.”

She gives a close-lipped smile and inhales. “Yeah, I tried that line, too, a time or ten.”

She spins on her wedges, heading for the door, but as she goes to push it open, it opens on its own and a low, whispered, ‘oh shit’ leaves her.

Rolland enters, a man I don’t know at his side, but the Brays seem to know him as they rise with his entrance.

The man looks to my brother, but Bass doesn’t give him the time of day.

“Take it outside,” Bass says without turning away from me. “Now.”

There isn’t a moment’s pause, they follow my brother’s command.

“This new life of yours, it must be pretty interesting.”

A small smile grows on my face, and Bass reaches up to hold my cheek.

“I’ll be back before the end of summer to see you,” he guarantees, an ache in his tone. “Think you could teach your brother how to stay above water?”

My throat grows thick, and more tears fall. “Yeah, I do.”

He chuckles lightly, leaning in to kiss my forehead, and whispers, “Goodbye, baby sister.”

He stands and as he walks away, he pauses, narrowing his eyes and says, “When I call, answer.”

A low, raspy scoff warms the room, followed by a teasing, “Good luck with that shit, Bishop.”

Low laughter follows, and my brother nods, glances around, and walks out.

As he does, I feel no sadness or hurt, not a hint of the abandonment I used to bury, because this time, as he walks away, I know I could go with him and he’d gladly hold the door open for me. This time, I’m okay with his goodbye.

This time, I chose to stay behind, because when I look to my right, into the dark and loving eyes waiting for mine, I know I’m staring at everything in this world I could ever want... and so much more.

Royce freaking Brayshaw.

Chapter 40

Royce

When I was young, I thought I knew what my life would be.

I’d be strong and bold and free. Wild and untamed and not a damn thing could stop me, change me, see me.

I would hide behind a mask I’d created to protect the one thing I didn’t want anyone to touch—the organ beating inside my chest.

I knew what love did, and I wanted none of it.

Love was a thief. It robbed you of your good senses and bred weakness inside the mind. It created doubt and jealousy and downright drives you mad.

That’s what I knew of love.

I didn’t know shit.

I was never strong or bold or free, not really.

As a kid, I was locked in my own mind, fearing what would come—a day where I’d lose my brothers to someone or something.

I was nothing but a lost boy, and in flew my Tink to rewrite all I thought I knew about strength and freedom.

She saved me from me by loving every jacked-up part of me.

Love did make me crazy, it took from me, changed me, but not for the worse. For the better.

Brielle, she is my strength, where my bravery will come from, and only when she’s with me, will I ever be free.

Free of fear or loss or pain, of regret.

To love Brielle Bishop is to breathe deep and full, to be loved by her is something too deep to explain.

She smiles, reaching up to run her fingers along my healing wound. “Your eyes are telling a story... you’re thinking.”

I lower, running my lips along hers only to pull back. “Of you. Always you.”

“Yeah, and what about this time, hm?”

“Captain told me what you did, for Enoch and Taylor.” I trace my fingertips along her neck. “You helped them find their way back to each other.”

“They deserved it. They love each other, and none of what happened was their fault.”

“Always the light in the darkness,” I whisper, emotion thickening up my tone as I stare at her. “You had to go and one-up me, huh, in my white knight moment?”

She chuckles, but it transitions into a sigh.

She pulls my face down to hers, closing her eyes. “We died together.”

“And we were brought back together.”

“Right beside each other. Are we zombies now?” she whispers with a laugh, her arms lazily draping around my neck.

“Nah, superheroes maybe.”

“Yeah, I think that’s better. Does basically being born again mean we have new birthdays?”