Be My Brayshaw Page 62

And for a moment I’m grateful she’s too weak.

Her eyes travel over me, settling on the ground beneath my feet and she swallows.

She walks away, and I’m left to head home and break the dam built by the enemy. I’ve said it all along, no matter who you are, hope is a dangerous beast, it sinks you and...

When you drown, your hope floats, but it’s not strong enough to pull you up with it. So, like a body chained to a brick, down you go.

I don’t remember the short walk to the mansion, but suddenly I’m standing in the driveway and then stepping inside the house.

Not thirty seconds after I close the door, Zoey is skipping down the stairs, Captain at her heels.

Only when she reaches the bottom step, do I notice the little bow in her hair today, the same soft shade of blue as the tiny Vans on her feet.

She spots me first, running over with a smile.

“Rora! I got new shoes.”

I lower onto one knee so she and I are eye level and let her interlace our hands. “I saw.”

“Do you love them?”

I love you, pretty girl.

“I do.” I swallow, releasing her and she runs off.

My eyes trail her as she goes, catching a flash of pink as she does, and slowly, I turn my head toward Captain.

He pats at his front and back pockets, his eyes bouncing around the room until they land on the counter where his phone is plugged into the charger. Once it’s in his hands, he’s searching around again, a small frown on his forehead.

“Hey,” I say, slowly pushing to my feet.

His eyes briefly meet mine and his lips raise into a small smile. “Hey.”

“Looking for something?” I ask, walking farther into the room.

“My keys.”

“They’re in your hand, Cap.”

He freezes, opening his palm with a scowl.

“Leaving?”

He hesitates, but then his shoulders seem to grow wider as he subconsciously opens his stance. In that one move, his decision, if ever he questions himself, was cemented.

“Yeah, I am,” he says.

This is what I meant when I told Mallory Captain has to see with his own two eyes. He has to read a situation, understand it for what it is, feel it in his gut.

He would drive himself mad with what-ifs, forever question me if I were to even hint at that thought.

So I smile as real as I can muster. “You painted her nails.”

His eyes move between mine, and he nods. “Took me a couple tries.”

A small laugh leaves me, and at first, his lips lift, but then he glares at the floor, and his feet start moving.

“Captain—”

“I have to go,” he cuts me off. “Zo.”

Zoey runs right in, a basketball-shaped, fluffy mini backpack on her back, and slips her hand right into Captain’s.

They walk out the door, leaving it wide open, so I step out onto the porch.

“So much, Rora!” Zoey calls just before Captain closes her door, climbing into his own.

Each roll of the tires has my pulse growing stronger.

So much, ZoZo.

The second they get onto the dirt road, Royce’s SUV flies by, passing Captain’s, and when Captain keeps going, Royce slams on his brakes, sending dust flying all around.

Maddoc and Royce’s doors are thrown open and they both pop out, leaning over where the hood meets the open door.

They look down the road, and to me, both hopping out and coming closer.

“He left?” Royce shouts.

I nod.

“You didn’t tell him.” Maddoc’s frown deepens. “Why?”

He holds my eyes, doing his best to read mine, only looking away when Royce is suddenly standing beside me on the porch.

He waits for me to look into his eyes, understanding. “Why would she?”

In other words, why would I think he’d care?

He hated Maria and would have no other reason to give a damn.

Right?

Chapter 29

Captain

 

“Daddy, look!”

I follow her little finger, spotting the squirrel right before it runs up the tree trunk. “I see, baby girl.”

Zoey taps the little stick against the root of the tree and then sets it down and runs back over to me. “Can we go home now?”

I turn her toward me, and she puts her little hands on my cheeks.

“You ready to go home now? See your papa, and your uncles, Raven.” My eyes move between hers. “Rora?”

She smiles, squeezing my cheeks until my lips are pinched. “And my bestest friend?”

A small chuckle leaves me, but with it comes pain in my ribs.

“Ready, Daddy?”

My eyes canvas the area once more, and I pull out my phone to check the time.

Two hours late.

I give Zoey a little shake and she laughs, wrapping her hands around my neck as I lift her from her feet and head back for the car.

“How about we go see a movie and then we go home?” I ask her. “Does that sound like fun?”

“Yes!”

I get her buckled in and drive us to the movie theater, but the second the SUV is in park, Zoey’s eyes close.

Only then do the events of tonight hit me.

I don’t know what I expected, what I had hoped for.

That might be a lie.

I’ve spent almost three and a half years hating Mallory.

First for leaving and breaking a part of me I never meant to give to her, then for hiding my daughter from me, and later down the line, when I no longer gave a single shit about her myself, I hated her for our daughter.

How dare she abandon our little girl.

The second she asked to see her, my instincts told me no, fuckin’ never, but the guy she left behind was confused, and he and the father I am now, who doesn’t understand how she could leave, blended together. Millions of questions ran through my head.

What if she didn’t want to leave me, but was forced?

What if she never planned to give Zoey away, but felt helpless?

What if she did what she did for our little girl?

What if it was honor and selflessness that took her from me, from us?

A decision a Brayshaw would make?

If there was a chance, even the smallest of one, what kind of father would I be if I didn’t try and take it, if I didn’t try to give my daughter a mother she deserves?

Mine was taken from me. I could never take hers from her.

Not that Mallory gives a shit, she didn’t even have the guts to tell me she wouldn’t be here.

With a deep breath, I pull from the parking lot, intending to head home, but end up driving around for who knows how long.

Maybell is sitting on the porch when I turn onto the property, but as she sees me she stands and walks to the edge of the driveway.

I slow to a stop, rolling down my window when she makes her way to it.

“Miss Maybell, kinda cold out tonight to be sitting on the porch.”

Her eyes are heavy with understanding.

She was waiting for me.

“Tough day, boy?”

I’m unable to hold in the frown that takes over, and she gives a sad smile, her hand coming up to touch my cheek.

“Go on,” she whispers. “Get that baby girl tucked in bed.”

I nod, waiting until she’s inside the house with the door closed and roll the rest of the way down the road to do just that.