BE MY BRAYSHAW

by Meagan Brandy

  A small grin forms, and I shake my head, glancing at the kitchen window a moment. Slowly, my eyes slide to one of the most important people in our lives.

  “She’s gone and your journal isn’t working,” Maybell guesses correctly, understanding softening her eyes. “Tell me what’s on your mind, boy.”

  I look to the old sand at my feet. “What you said to me before, about how once we choose that’s it, there’s no going back, no changing our minds.”

  “Sealed in the heavens and etched along the walls of hell.”

  I nod. Yeah. That.

  “I chose Mallory first,” I say. “Isn’t that the answer to all this? The glue. Where my anchor fell?”

  A wolf only has one mate in his lifetime.

  She sits silently for a long minute, only speaking once I force my gaze to hers.

  “The way I see it, that’s where the anchor broke from the chain, crashed to the deepest part of the sea where only one person will be brave enough to go. This person will dive headfirst into the dark waters, not caring to make it back to the surface, because to fix what’s broken in you is worth the risk of losing everything, even life.”

  I open my hand, twisting my wrist, and study how the sun reflects off the brass. A golden rainbow.

  My jaw tics.

  “And that glue you speak of? That’s classic Captain right there, my nurturing, loving, deep thinking boy.” My eyes find hers again, and she gives a small smile. “You hurt, are confused, for the girl who doesn’t deserve it, the struggles of a man who loves his daughter with the sun and moon, the air and the fire of the earth. She may have done what she did, but that will never take away from how this girl gave you the most important person in your world. You may hate her, but you’re grateful, and it tears you apart and, sorry to tell you, boy, but it will never stop tearing you apart. It’s proof of your heart, Captain Brayshaw. It’s what makes you, you.”

  A hint of ache sneaks into my frozen body, and I welcome it.

  I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “I wish I was as sure as you, Maybell, ‘cause right now all my mind is telling me is to fix what’s broken, but I have no clue where to start, no idea what I should attempt to fix first or at all.”

  She pushes to her feet and comes to stand in front of me.

  I lift my head, meeting her deep brown eyes.

  “Tell me this, boy. If there are two bleeding souls, and only enough thread to mend one. Who do you heal?”

  “What if neither of them deserves it?”

  She nods. “What if I told you one of those souls was yours?”

  A desperate, selfish ache forms in the pit of my stomach at her words.

  Suddenly she’s holding out a small envelope addressed to her.

  My brows snap together. “What is that?”

  “Don’t know.” She pins me with a steady, strong-minded gaze. “It’s not mine.”

  She points to the very edge where a small anchor is drawn.

  It’s for me.

  My chest wall expands out, and slowly, I push to my feet, now towering over her.

  “It came in the mail a couple days ago. I thought it was odd, it was in the lockbox, but then I looked at the back.”

  I grab the manila envelope from her hands and flip it over.

  Written in cursive on the back flap, it reads:

  I’m trusting you as you trusted me.

  Only if she’s gone.

  Something stirs in my gut, twisting and turning at the emptiness inside.

  Maybell’s hands come up to pat my cheeks as she’s done so many times in my life. “Go on home, my sweet boy. Someone wants you to see what’s inside that envelope.”

  “Who sent this?”

  “I have an idea,” she says, but nothing follows, and with an encouraging smile, she walks back into the Bray house.

  Thankfully my dad has Zoey in the pool house watching movies this afternoon, so I’m able to rush right home, up the stairs and into my room. I slam the door closed behind me, and tear open the envelope, pouring its contents onto my comforter, and then I freeze.

  A single folded piece of paper.

  One rounded diamond.

  I stare at the items, and my throat tightens with uncertainty.

  I tug at my hair, scrub my hands down my face and in the end, I can’t fucking do it.

  I yank my phone from my pocket and press number three.

  It rings once before she answers.

  “I need you.”

  “I’m coming.”

  My phone falls to the floor and I wait.

  A little less than a half hour passes, and then my door is thrown open.

  Maddoc enters first, his eyes flying around the room before settling on me, and then he pushes the door open farther, stepping aside so Raven can slide past him.

  “Cap.” She rushes over, and the door closes right as she plants her feet in front of me.

  Before Raven, it was only me and my brothers and while we have always been enough for each other, understood and listened as a team, had the others’ backs no matter the situation, even if we were the fuck-ups, adding Raven to our family was a necessity we didn’t know we were missing.

  I can be weak in front of my brothers and not be judged, but there’s something about having a female to confide in that settles us a little differently. Not better or more just… different.

  “Sorry it took a minute.” She hugs me. “We had just climbed out at the warehouses, Maddoc had to drop off something, but we jumped right back in the SUV and came home.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as she pulls away, dropping my head back.

  Her hand comes up to brush along my hair. “What happened?”

  I jerk my chin toward the bed.

  She follows my line of sight, a frown instantly forming. “What is that?”

  “Can’t bring myself to look.”

  Her eyes come back to mine.

  I’m fucking terrified, Raven.

  She sees it, understands as she always does.

  Her Brayshaw item is a knife, and I think I understand it now.

  Her blade, it holds the pain.

  She’s the true strength between us all.

  Her hands fall and she steps away, moving to my mattress.

  She lifts one leg, sitting half off the edge, her gaze meeting mine as she first picks up the envelope. She reads the writing there before flipping it over and seeing the message on the other side.

  Her chest inflates. “It’s about Zoey, isn’t it?”

  “I think so.”

  Her eyes find mine once again as she blindly grasps the thin piece of paper, her other hand reaching out for me.

  Anxiety tugs at my muscles, and at first I don’t move.

  Raven slowly shakes her head, her chin tipping the slightest bit. “Come on, Cap.”

  Slowly, I make my way over, sitting on the opposite side so we can face each other, and her hand slips into mine as she holds the paper open between us.

  We look at the same time.

  Captain,

  If this is in your hands, my daughter is not.

  This means she’s everything I hoped she’d grow to be, everything your father once promised she would, despite the ugly life she lived and the little chance the world gave her.

  You may know, if she allowed herself to open up at all, she saw the darkest parts of it but in a light she didn’t then understand. Maybe that’s what molded her, her ability to see beyond the obvious, into someone’s soul.

  I never got a chance to earn her love, and if you’re reading this, I never will, but that’s not why I write you this letter.

  I write to give you a gift, a gift I stole.

  It’s not mine to offer, I have no right, but it was created for you, so I have no reservations.

  It is my hope that this will ease your soul, give you peace and relieve you of the guilt your heart holds.

  Zoey gave me this, she mended all that was broken inside me, and while I know her being in my car
e when she should have been in yours caused you grief, I am grateful for my time with her.

  I wish I could watch her grow, but fate has other plans, and beautiful, bright ones for her. And you.

  If you are wondering if my daughter knows of this letter, the answer is no.

  I have placed all my faith in Maybell, in her trusting my words, and that you are only reading this now because she is gone.

  So here, sweet Captain, is my gift to you.

  All my love, Maria.

  Raven’s hand is shaking, so I grip her wrist and gently take the paper from her fingers.

  Our eyes meet, and the moisture in hers has me swallowing.

  She reaches for the large, fake diamond, and as she spins it in her fingers, her thumb pushes along the edge, and a flash drive pops from the other end.

  Both of us freeze.

  “Cap...”

  I grab it from her, flipping it over to find the bottom is a flat silver.

  She jumps up, searching my TV for a way to turn it on but she has no clue what to do next.

  I stand, pulling it from the wall a bit to slide it in the open space behind it, and instantly, the screen turns a bright blue.

  I hold my breath as I grab the remote, my eyes on Raven.

  She grips my elbow, towing me back to the bed, and together we sit.

  It is my hope that this will ease your soul...

  A shaky breath leaves me, my eyes on the ceiling.

  Without a word from me, Raven stands, exiting my room only to come back with my brothers’ hands in hers.

  I swallow, nodding as they enter, tense and unsure.

  They drop onto the bed behind me, and Raven comes right back to sit at my side.

  She takes the remote from my hand and presses play.

  What’s only seconds aches like hours, and then...

  “You’re so annoying, do you have to do this every day?”

  My muscles lock when Mallory’s voice fills the room before the picture comes into view.

  You can’t see her face, like the camera is behind her as she sits against a headboard on a bed I don’t recognize.

  The wall in the background of the shot is a large open window, overlooking... a garden.

  “Stop complaining, it’s not for you.”

  Victoria.

  “Oh shit,” comes from Royce.

  Suddenly she’s laying on her stomach, right beside Mallory. As she does, Mallory shifts, her body coming into full view.

  Her stomach round and...

  My ribs constrict, everything in my body tightening.

  Zoey.

  My eyes fly to Raven’s belly and back to the screen.

  This. This is what my daughter looked like, growing safely inside her mother.

  Raven’s hand squeezes mine, and we watch as Victoria pulls something from behind her.

  A book.

  She opens it somewhere in the middle, like she’s already made it through the first half of what must be three hundred pages and begins to read out loud.

  She reads to my baby girl, and my family and I sit here and listen.

  Victoria shifts on the mattress, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders and blocking her face from the camera’s view, and right as I think how I wish I could push it aside, how I need to see her lips as the words leave them, a hand slides into view, doing exactly that.

  Victoria looks up, and in her eyes, I see pain, fear, and it aches within my own chest.

  What were you afraid of?

  She quickly stands from the mattress, the camera shutting off right as Mallory calls her name.

  It rolls into another video, and then another, each one Mallory is there, and her belly grows bigger.

  In the next, the wind blows Mallory’s hair around as she stands in front of a bed of flowers.

  She must hear something I don’t, because she turns, frowning at the camera.

  “How do you feel?” Victoria asks her.

  Mallory’s shoulders fall. “Like someone is playing soccer in my stomach.”

  Raven chuckles, her free hand moving to her own baby bump, and Maddoc slides closer to her back.

  “It’s kind of annoying,” she says to Victoria.

  Raven says the exact words that leave Victoria next, and at the same time, “It’s not annoying.”

  Mallory rolls her eyes and moves closer to the screen.

  She reaches out, and then the camera is dropped, but not turned off, the frame tilted and only giving a view of half their bodies.

  She grabs a hold of Victoria’s wrist and drops it onto the curve of her stomach.

  Victoria’s muscles seem to freeze, but then she relaxes, and with slow, gentle movements, she opens her palms wider.

  Seconds tick by, her airy laugh following, and my pulse runs wild, kicks harder.

  “Basketball,” she whispers.

  We were on her mind right then.

  I was on her mind.

  The father of the baby she’s watching grow, that she didn’t know and had no reason to link herself to.

  But she did it for the innocent little life beneath her palms.

  The video rolls into the next, and I shoot to my feet, moving closer to the TV.

  A hospital...

  Holy shit.

  Mallory’s cries fill the room.

  “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” A shuddered breath leaves her. “I should have had the abortion like I was going to before you dragged me out of that office and talked me into this.”

  No...

  I swear my ribs snap one by one.

  “No, you shouldn’t have, and I didn’t stop you. I offered another way, and yes you can, just… breathe,” Victoria tells her.

  “Get that stupid camera out of my face,” Mallory snaps.

  “I can’t. This isn’t for you.”

  Suddenly Mallory’s cries grow louder, and my heart starts to pound in my chest, breaking away the final layer of ice the last few days created.

  Tears fall from her and she frantically pushes her legs around beneath the blanket covering her.

  “Oh fuck,” Raven rasps, but I can’t look at her.

  My eyes are glued to the TV.

  “Just a little longer,” Victoria whispers.

  Mallory’s breathing starts to smooth out, her eyes sliding toward the screen.

  She cries, “It hurts.”

  There’s a moment’s hesitation, and then the camera is set down.

  My eyes are locked on Mallory’s as hers move around the room, trailing Victoria, I think, and then she’s at her bedside, a cloth in one hand, her other, sliding into one of Mallory’s.

  My lungs allow a full breath as she pats at Mallory’s face with the small towel, cold or warm, I don’t know.

  Mallory sits up as much as she can until her forehead is against Victoria’s, and Victoria lets the cloth fall, her hand coming up to gently move Mallory’s hair from her face.

  “Why haven’t you left, Vee? I’m awful to you.”

  “You’re alone, fifteen, and having a baby. I might be awful too if I was in your shoes.” Her eyes move between hers a moment, and then she sits on the edge of the bed. “Are you afraid?” she whispers.

  “Not for reasons you probably think,” Mallory admits. “Only of the pain.”

  When Victoria doesn’t respond, Mallory says to her, “You think I’m making a mistake.”

  “I’m not here to judge you.”

  “But you have an opinion.”

  Victoria slips behind her, pulling her hair back and begins braiding it. “Only you know if you’re not ready to be a mom. That’s your decision, and if you’re not and you know it, then... I think admitting that makes you stronger than anyone I know.”

  Victoria’s words twist and turn inside in cold despair.

  Strong. She called her strong.

  Was she?

  “But?”

  Victoria sighs, her arms falling to her sides. “But it’s weak, and wrong,
that the father is out there, someone who would want and love her in a heartbeat, and you don’t want to give him the chance.”

  Mallory looks over her shoulder, meeting Victoria’s eyes. “He’d kill me.”

  “And your life is more important than your child’s?”

  “I don’t want to be a mother, and I don’t want the reminder that I am anywhere near me. You said if I stayed locked in this damn place, had this baby, you’d keep her away from me, hide her, and set me up. That I could go on with my life like this never happened, and worth a hell of a lot more.”

  I swear moisture builds in Victoria’s eyes at the foul fucking words spoken by Mallory, but she blinks them away.

  You lying bitch.

  My chest tightens, my pulse hitting against my temples as she readies to speak, but Mallory’s face pulls tight, and she cries out right as a doctor comes in.

  The woman lifts the blanket from Mallory’s legs and looks up with a smile.

  “It’s time,” she says.

  “Maddoc,” Raven breathes behind me.

  Mallory pants, shaking her head, and right as I think it, my words are voiced.

  “You can do this,” Victoria whispers.

  “Okay, Mallory,” the doctor calls. “Time to push.”

  My heart beats wild, emotions I can’t control taking over and stealing the air from my lungs as I move to stand directly in front of the TV.

  Victoria holds her hand as Mallory screams and cries and pushes, and then I hear her.

  The softest scream, a fresh, brand new, first cry.

  Her first second in this world.

  Her first breath.

  Moisture fills my eyes, and my jaw shakes as my baby girl is lifted into view. My feet jerk to the side when suddenly I can no longer see her.

  “Congratulations,” the doctor says. “It’s a girl.”

  The nurse slides back into view a few torturously slow minutes later, and in her arms, wrapped tight in a tiny cocoon of teal and pink, a little striped beanie on her head, my baby girl cries. With the sound, my heart fucking sings.

  The woman leans over, prepared to hand her to her mother, and my ribs ache as Mallory denies her, closing her eyes and looking away.

  My stomach hollows as her hand slowly raises, pointing straight to Victoria.

  The nurse offers a small smile, and with a shaky nod, Victoria walks around the bed. She wipes her hands on her jeans and welcomes my newborn daughter into her open, steady arms.