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“You’re the reason we have what we have,” he snaps angrily, growing closer. “You believed in Raven first, led us into the thought of opening up to someone new. You saw something in Victoria we refused to until you convinced us to look deeper. When we break, you step up with a bottle and break with us. You don’t judge, you don’t push, and you don’t fucking run. If there was something in this life I couldn’t give Raven, I couldn’t live with that, but you’re stronger than I am, brother. If your girl for real loses her sight, you’ll find a way to make her see. No-fucking-body else will be able to give her that. You’re not her ruin, Royce, you’re her only fuckin’ recovery.”
“Think about it, Ponyboy,” Raven whispers. “You don’t get close to people, neither does she. She’s been alone, and you feel alone even when you’re not. Maybe that’s because deep down you feel something’s missing, something we can’t give you.” She stands with a shrug. “Maybe that something is her.”
“I told you to stop trying to convince yourself of something none of us, including Brielle, will ever be convinced of. I didn’t think a single soul would ever deserve to be loved by you, Royce Brayshaw, but now it’s so obvious it’s her. I know she will never want for anything in her life, she’ll never fear a soul, and she will never look back with regret,” she whispers. “Now get your ass up and go talk to that girl before Bass does something stupid we’ll be forced to kick his ass for, like tie her up and throw her in his car.”
My throat begins to clog. “And if she decides she wants to go with him?”
“Then you bare your broken boy soul to her and convince her otherwise. If that doesn’t work, we do the tying.” She lifts a shoulder. “Our town, our rules, right?”
I look to my brother who nods to Cap several yards away, keeping his eyes on the two who must still be near the porch and us tucked back here in the corner. He tips his chin.
I look to Raven and hold my hand out.
I don’t allow her to hold my weight, I know she’s still sore, but her grip is firm on mine.
She smirks. “Go on, Ponyboy. Show her what you’re made of.”
“Trust me, RaeRae,” I whisper. “She knows.”
Raven’s eyes dart to mine and then the three of us laugh.
We hop out, and toward the front of the house I go.
Ready or not, baby. Here I fucking come.Chapter 34RoyceWith my keys in my hand, I run out the front door, and the sun punishes me for all the alcohol I’ve been drowning in, shocking and fogging my vision.
I squint, flopping a hand up to block the summer rays for a clearer look, and fuck me, I’m hit with every emotion all at once, my thoughts and vision coming back with a vengeance.
Brielle stands a few feet away, leaning against my ride all gorgeous and perfect-like with no makeup and tied back hair.
Something raw and deep burns in my gut, twisting and fucking turning.
Never in my life have I ever touched a girl harmfully.
I do all I can to protect people from shit like that, to hurt assholes who hurt others, especially girls, women.
This time I was the asshole. It’s my turn to hurt and goddamn if I’m not aching from the pain I’ve caused her, but it’s not enough.
I deserve so much worse, and Brielle...
Fuck man, Brielle.
I’ve met my fair share of people, and it’s rare to find someone who is both honest and loyal. To find someone who is those things and kind? Unjudging and just... more than you knew to exist?
That shit’s unheard of.
She deserves the fucking world.
A sad little smile curves those lips of hers and it serves as a cupid’s arrow through my chest, but the deadly one. The one with the red tip, coated in poison that eats away at your organs.
Baby girl... fuck.
I jog down the stairs and straight to her.
Her smile is soft and knowing, and she pushes off the side. “Took you long enough.”
“Tell me you’re not trying to leave.”
“I’m not trying to leave,” she whispers. “But you needed a little push to get you ahead in the game.”
I dart forward, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, my free hand coming up to the marking on her temple. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean... I can’t fucking believe...”
“I know.” She grips my wrist, pulling it to her mouth to kiss the edge of my tattoo there.
I dip, lifting her by the ass, holding her tiny body in my arms.
As if she’s meant to be right here, in my grasp, her legs need no leading, her arms no guidance, both wrapping around me for a better grasp. A stronger hold.
