Page 13 of Shattered

There’s no way.

Sweat drips down his face as his sapphire blue eyes, surrounded by darkness, fixate on mine.

“Brayden,” Hearing my name spoken breathlessly by him catches me by surprise, causing an unexpected stir in my pants.

“Sir,” I give him a tight-lipped smile and nod, turning on my heels and straight out of here. What the fuck was that reaction? How am I getting hard over my teacher? Fuck. I needed the outlet, but not with him around. I don’t see why he can’t back off, why he has to be one of those meddling teachers who think they can fix everything.

“Hey, wait up.” I hear Mr. Stiles’ voice reach my ears.

For fuck’s sake.

I keep my head down and quicken my pace. The last thing I want to do is talk to anyone, but especially him, after yesterday and, uh, just now. It was only a reaction; I get them a lot. I don’t need to freak out. I obviously didn’t know it was him.

“Brayden,” his urgent voice is now louder, right next to me. His fingers brush my arm, sending an electric jolt through mybody. I instinctively step away and turn to face him. A deep frown mars his face, concern etched in every line. He stands a few inches taller than my 6-foot frame, but in this moment, he seems to tower over me, his presence overwhelming. It’s as if he surrounds me, his intensity wrapping around me like a cloak.

“You good?” his eyes search mine, the frown still prominent on his face. I didn’t realize how blue his eyes we—. Shit.

“Yeah,” my voice comes out cracked. “I’m on my way out.” I follow up while moving away and continue to walk toward the door. Mr. Stiles doesn’t leave it there, though, as his fingers tap my arm once more.

“I’m finishing up if you wanted to go in there,” I stupidly allow my gaze to connect with his again and hate the way my eyes track every drip of sweat that runs down his head. Fuck. Clearly, Lance wasn’t enough last night.

“Na, you’re good. I’m heading out.” Confusion still mars his face as he gently nods, but before I can say anything else, the sound of my ringtone fills the awkward silence. I pull my phone out and see an unknown caller pop up. I frown as I answer the call and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I ask more than a question instead of a greeting.

“Uh, Brayden?” The person also sounds as if he’s asking me a question.

“Yeah, who’s this?” My eyes meet Mr. Stiles again, who stands there still staring at me. He’s waiting for something, I nod my head at him as a gesture of goodbye because I cannot have his body this near me for a second longer. I begin to walk and then freeze.

“It’s—never mind. You need to get back to your trailer. It’s your brother—” The noise of an ambulance or cop car, the latter probably, blares through the phone.

“Shit. I’m on my way,” before I can get a reply from whomever that was, my phone is already in my pocket and I’m pushingthrough the doors. My mom’s trailer is at least twenty minutes in an Uber from here. I pull my phone back out, opening up the Uber app, and notice the phone shaking in my hand. My heart thumps in my chest. What the fuck has happened? Every dreadful thought goes through my mind. Is he hurt? Has he hurt someone?

“Why won’t this fucking app load?” I shout in a panic at no one but myself.

“Brayden,” as if forgetting about Mr. Stiles, my eyes swing up and he stares at me, panic laced in his eyes as they flit between mine. I swing my head back and forth as panic begins to settle in.

I need to get to my brother now.

Chapter ten

Bohdi

Iwitness Brayden’s flushed complexion fade away, leaving a paler tone. Whatever the person said on the other end of the phone, he didn’t even reply. He ends the call and bursts through the doors, walking away from me without a second glance.

“Brayden.” Once again, I run to catch up with him, but I avoid making contact this time. It’s clear from the tension in his shoulders that he either dislikes me greatly or wants to avoid me entirely. Furiously tapping on his phone, he runs his hand through his hair, aggressively tugging at the strands causing his back muscles to flex.

“Why won’t this app load?” He vigorously shakes the phone in front of him. A distressed and agitated tone emerges from him as he anxiously stares at the screen, questioning, “What do you mean, there are none available?”

“Brayden,” I call out, trying to snap him out of his obvious panic. The touch of my fingers on his arm seems to free him fromhis trapped state of turmoil. Yet, his eyebrows furrow and his chest heaves.

“It- it’s my brother. I need to get home. No Ubers.” he says, his voice cracking with desperation, his eyes never leaving mine. Realizing I’ve gotten too close, I quickly step back while nodding.

“Don’t worry, my car is parked in the parking lot. I can give you a ride.” Rapidly nodding, he takes deep breaths as his eyes constantly shift between mine. Brayden keeps pace with me while I walk to my car, focused on his phone as he types frantically. We get to my car in record time. “You’re gonna have to direct me,” he silently nods, getting straight into the passenger side. His leg furiously bounces as we drive, showing anxiousness. What the fuck has happened to his brother? We’ve been driving for about ten minutes, and I’ve noticed his head constantly moving in different directions. We must be getting close. I don’t know the area that well, but what I know is this isn’t a pleasant side of town.

Not one bit.

With a signal, he points to a narrow pathway ahead as I drive carefully. He’s already beginning to remove his belt. My eyes scan over the small trailers surrounding the car.

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