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“I get it,” I cut him off in a whisper, and his face hardens, his nostrils flaring as he stares at me.
I give a small smile.
“You don’t have to do all that, threaten and warn me every time we have a conversation. It will only lead to me not wanting to have any more.”
“What makes you think I care?”
I can feel that you do, even if you don’t want to...
I don’t say that.
I shrug and glide back in the water. “I mean, you’re in the water with me right now. Kinda seems like you might not hate being around me, even if you do get mad at least once every time we’re around each other.”
“That’s ‘cause you piss me off.”
“You piss yourself off.”
He glares and I laugh.
I spin around, bringing myself closer to the wall where the water comes about halfway up my stomach.
Royce’s eyes fall to my triangle top and thank god for padded swimsuits.
“Come on, Playboy.”
Slowly, his eyes lift to mine.
“Teach me how to swim?”
He stares a long moment. “I’ll have to touch you.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Is that a problem for you?”
“It will be for you.”
I tip my head playfully. “Oh yeah, how so?”
He scoffs, a small tug playing on his lips as his body suddenly loses all of its tension. He walks forward as fast as the water allows him to and smirks. “Clearly you’ve never been touched by a Bray.”
Oh, he’s got jokes.
Okay.
I plant my feet against the wall, grip the edge, turn to look at him, and smirk back. “I’ve never been touched at all.”
I kick off, holding my breath longer than I should as I glide through the water. When I pop up, it’s with a loud gasp. I look toward Royce.
He has yet to move his body, but his eyes, they followed.
I can’t see them from here, the moon now at his back, but I know they’re on me.
Without a word, he climbs out, grabs his clothes.
He leaves.
Ten minutes later Mac is coming through the gate, offering me a ride back to the house.
His ‘offer’ sounds a lot like a requirement, so I accept, and ten minutes after that, I’m stepping into the shower in my bedroom.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know I’m awoken to the sound of my phone ringing.
I frown when I see it’s Ciara who is calling, but quickly answer and bring it to my ear.
“Hey.”
Sniffles sound on the other end and I push against my headboard. “Ciara?”
“Hey,” she whispers.
I frown. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom,” she says quietly, as if she has to whisper. “She’s a piece of shit.”
“What happened?”
“You left.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out, so I wait for her to speak.
“When I heard you were carried out of school, I went home to... you know, see if you were okay or whatever.” She clears her throat, and my lips twitch. “When I got there Micah was just leaving with all your shit, which is so fucking weird by the way.” A low laugh leaves her.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I mumble.
“Franky sort of had a fit about that, too, by the way. He’s convinced you two must have been screwing around before that...” She trails off.
I drop my head against the headboard. I hate that for her.
She’s quiet for several seconds before adding. “A guy showed up at the house an hour or so after Micah left.”
“What guy?”
“I don’t know who he was, but he had a smile and a chocolate cake and so she let him in. Right away he started asking her all these questions about you and your brother.”
I sit up. “Like what?”
“If she talked to him before you left, if he knew you left. My mom got pissed, she figured you told people about your life before us, about her brother, but I just assumed he was a friend of Bass’ or something, you know?”
“So what happened?”
“I don’t even know,” she begins to cry, guilt heavy in her tone. “She started yelling at the guy and I just... took off and haven’t been back. I left her in the house with some wannabe square with a freaking comb-over.” She pauses. “I just couldn’t deal. I’m so tired of this crap, Brielle.”
I nod, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arm around them. “I know.” I was too. “So where’s your mom now?”
“Sitting in room 104 with tubes in her arm.” She clears her throat. “She’ll be fine, I guess.”
My eyes widen. “She’s in the hospital?”
“It’ll do her some good to be clean for a few days, something about too much Valium.” She scoffs. “I didn’t even know she was mixing pills with her liquor.”
My brows pull.
Mixing pills with liquor...
No. Can’t be.
Why would Royce send someone to my house after Micah?
He wouldn’t need to, right?
I need to talk to my brother.
