Be My Brayshaw Page 22

“Boy.” She smiles as Zoey grabs her hands, clapping them for her as she sits in her lap. “Go on.”

I nod, leaning farther in to kiss Zoey’s cheek. “See you in a little bit, okay?”

She nods but looks past me as she climbs into her seat. “Uncle!”

“Right here, Zoey Bear.” Royce laughs, stretching his arm past me and setting the rest of the donut in her hands.

“Bye Daddy!” She carefully slips her arms into the straps of her seat, kicking her feet as she bites into it, both of us forgotten.

We step back so our dad can slide in, and then they’re off.

Raven and Maddoc are coming down the porch as we turn around, an ice chest in Maddoc’s hand, blanket in Raven’s.

“Ready?”

“She wants to stop for ice cream on the way,” Maddoc grumbles, sliding a frown toward Raven.

“I need to stop for ice cream,” she corrects him.

“Like you needed the chocolate and chips and shit this morning. We’re barbecuing. Why not wait until after you give my kid some protein first?”

“You might not like sweets, Big Man, but this thing inside me is half mine, which means it has half my appetite for snacking.”

“Not an it and you’re dead wrong, baby.” He quickly pushes his lips against her hair. “Sometimes kids don’t share shit with their mamas.”

Royce chuckles beside me, and Raven smirks, looking away.

Maddoc’s eyes narrow on her, quickly shifting to our brother. “What?” he snaps.

“Growin’ a puss on us, bro?” Royce teases.

Maddoc shoves him. “Fuck’s that mean?”

“It means Royce owes me a stack of twenties.” Raven wiggles her eyebrows. “Told you he secretly read the books Maybell gave me.”

Royce laughs harder, but Maddoc doesn’t say anything. He smirks as he makes his way to the back of my SUV to put the ice chest inside.

I glance up at Victoria’s window as Raven stops beside me. “She take off?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, jerking her chin toward the side of the house. “Heard her go out the back door when we were gettin’ out of the shower.”

I nod, open my door and slide in, but I only get as far as putting the key in the ignition.

I growl and slip right back out.

I walk around the front right side of the house, jolting to a stop when I spot her on her knees. Her hair up on her head as she feathers her fingertips along the flower bed we had put in for Zoey before she came home.

It’s identical to the one she was used to seeing when she lived with Maria, long parallel lines of every shade of purple in existence, a thicker, heavy curve in the middle, wide-open sky behind it, allowing nothing to block the sun from beaming down to give them life.

Victoria sits back on her heels, scanning over the twenty-foot-long garden. She closes her eyes, inhaling a full breath right as a heavy crease covers her forehead. I jerk around and move back to my SUV.

I slide inside, slam the door and peel out of the driveway, loud enough to interrupt her thought, but not loud enough to drown out my own.

Why is she touching the flowers and what came to her mind, bringing pain with it?

Does she like flowers?

Why the fuck do I care?

I lift my palm, slamming it against the steering wheel, only to tighten my hold on the cooled leather.

Nobody flinches or is caught off guard, and nobody questions me.

It’s how we work.

I feel, they feel.

I hurt, they hurt.

I get angry, well… that’s when it’s bad for everyone involved.

One’s anger is what drives another’s rage.

If there is one thing that pisses us off more than all else, it’s to witness pain from one of our own.

I’m not in pain, but I’m sure as fuck in something.

From there, it doesn’t take long to get to the courts, and once we do, we jump straight into a game.

I’m lost in my own damn thoughts the first half, only managing to focus toward the end.

Mac finishes up with the main part of the barbecue right around then, so everyone takes a minute to breathe and eat, but I’m done.

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the bottom of my t-shirt, my eyes sliding to the end of the court where Jason stands with Mac, Chloe, and a few other girls. He laughs as he throws away his plate before picking up a ball and heading back out onto the asphalt.

None of us picked up on anything outside the norm with him today, like we hoped. He’s acting like his usual attention-seeking self.

Royce nods his chin, tugging his shirt over his head as he takes slow steps toward Jason.

The girls start whistling and laughing, causing Jason to turn around.

His dribble slows, but then his eyes tighten some and he starts crossing the ball between his legs.

Royce crouches the slightest bit, his fingers drumming the air at his sides, and then the two both move.

Jason darts forward as Royce shoots right, anticipating his exact motion, and steals the ball from him with ease. He continues down the court, jumping up and dunking before Jason can attempt to catch up.

Royce grabs the ball, chucking it hard against Jason’s chest.

He catches it easily, a light chuckle escaping him as he attempts a three-pointer, but Royce hops and is in the air, slapping the ball away.

Jason laughs and comes forward with his hand out, so Royce gives him props.

His eyes slide our way but don’t hold.

No aggression from him toward one of us.

Maybe the little blue car’s got nothing to do with him?

“Fuck’s next?” Maddoc says behind his towel before swiping it across his head and draping it around his neck.

Royce makes his way over when someone else jumps up, ready to go one on one next.

“Let’s see how things look at school, go from there?”

He and Royce nod in agreement.

“Aye, Raven loved that shit at the warehouses, huh?” Royce grins at Maddoc.

“Fuck, man. She did, but now she keeps talking about it.”

“She miss the fighting?”

A strain pulls at his forehead as he watches her shift from foot to foot in an attempt to get comfortable. “She’s feelin’ useless. I think our fight the other day made it worse, that shit was hard on her, having to sit back like that.” His eyes swing our way. “She’s getting fuckin’ restless, gotta help her find something she actually likes, not some shit she came to crave out of survival. She’s never been able to chill enough to know what she’d even want to try outside of what she had to do to get by or clear her head. She wants to fight still, after, so I’m looking at some trainers that I won’t have to kill along the way. Legit boxing, not the savage shit like out there.” He frowns. “Gotta keep her outta that ring.”

“Concert?” Royce throws out. “Still has those earbuds in more than not.”

Maddoc nods. “I’d fuck up anyone who came within four feet of her.”

“We’ll get floor seats or a box suite.”

He licks his lips. “Yeah, let’s find somethin’ quick.”

Royce’s head draws back. “Gettin’ blue balls?”

Maddoc’s glare flies his way. “Fuck you, yeah right. My Snow’s real good to me. I’m the only thing she can put all her pent-up energy into.” His smirk is slow. “I’m not mad about it.”