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“He’s intuitive.”
When I start to shake my head, Maddoc grips it between his hands, a frown taking over his face once more. “Raven, that was not his knife,” he throws out tersely. “I have never seen that knife before. Being a Brayshaw has rules, and if an item is given to you by a Bray, it was created for you, and not to be given away. Those words are sacred. If he gave you something with them written on it, it’s because he knew, eventually, you’d be exactly where you are right now. With us.”
“He bought me from my mom for who knows what reason, because she sent him to prison. Maybe even before if that’s why he was paying her for two years before he was even arrested.”
Maddoc shakes his head. “I don’t know. His going to jail never made sense, my going to jail made no fucking sense if you think about it from our perspective. We’re Brayshaws, that doesn’t happen to us, so I knew he had some sort of plan behind it. And the one he had shocked the shit out of us. We thought maybe because he was arrested in another town that it made a difference, and that’s why he wasn’t released right away – them not knowing who he was – but learned later it wouldn’t.
“Raven, we’re not the only family like ours, there’s several of us spanning across the state line like a barrier, blocking people from coming into our worlds. We all serve a purpose, live a certain way to have the lives we do,” Maddoc says, then glances to his brothers before looking back to me. “But we will fucking find out where you fit into this. Your area is outside of our maps. I don’t even know how he found you or your mom. None of the families connected to us have business that way.”
I rub at my eyes and let out a deep breath.
The last two days have been a huge fucking information overload. My head is starting to spin.
I meet each of their stares, each a complete contrast of the last – dark brown, light blue, and jade green – but each hold the same intensity and promise.
One I chose to believe, even if it makes me a sucker in the end.
Family runs deeper than blood, and I think I might have found mine.
We all stand, and Royce and Captain both move in for a hug before disappearing inside to crash.
Maddoc grips my hand and pulls me behind him, not bothering to close the balcony doors on our way to our designated room for the night. Our door, though, he closes and locks.
Grabbing a hold of my other hand, he pries my knife from my fist, pulling it closer to his face. A frown finds him as he stares, slowly running his fingers across the words that mean more to him than I probably even understand. He nods to himself, then sets it on the table beside us.
Maddoc’s eyes shift to mine. He tugs his hoodie over his head, drops his jeans, and then moves to relieve me of mine, not once looking away from me.
He steps against me, wrapping his arm around my lower back and pulling me in.
I halfway hate how I like it when he does this, touches me, stares at me with dark eyes full of more than I might ever be ready for.
He tips my head back with a touch to my chin and runs his lips across mine, nipping lightly, before he pulls back. “Don’t think too hard on all this, baby. Just let it play out, and while it does, know something,” he whispers, walking me backward to the mattress. I allow myself to fall and he drops down, hovering over me. “I don’t care what happens tonight, tomorrow, or next fucking year. I don’t care what anyone wants from, or of me. I decide what I want from you.”
He wedges his knee between mine, bringing himself even closer as he runs his lips across my jawline, stopping to whisper in my ear, “And I’m bettin’ on everything.”I turn off the shower and step out, quickly dressing and towel drying my hair.
Last night was the best night’s sleep I’d had in weeks and it has everything to do with the one who slept beside me, while my knife sat on the table beside him.
My knife that was given to me by his father.
What a crazy few fucking days.
I quietly step into the living room area of the suite, and as expected, it was Captain’s footsteps out on the balcony that woke me.
He stands there looking over the foggy city a moment before running his hands down his face. He grips the railing, dropping his chin to his chest, and the sight has a pain hitting mine.
