The Male Luna (MxM) (Complete)

Chapter 3

Brayden

I felt the blood quickly drain from my face. 

Oh, FUCK no.

Charlotte stood in front of me with an equally horrified expression. Her small lips begin to quiver and her big eyes fill with unshed, embarrassed tears. 

My brow begins to break out in an anxious sweat, coating my already grimy face and my hands tremble. 

Protective instincts kick in and I quickly grab the scruff of Charlotte's collar bringing her close to my side. She doesn't resist and merely lets out a soft whimper, digging her face further into my shirt. My palm shakily rubs the top of her head in a failed attempt at comfort.

"I-I-I'm so sorry sir! She didn't mean to! I mean I know that's not an excuse, but she's only five. We've all been cooped up in a car for the last two days, so there's a lot of pent-up energy...you know how kids can be..." I rambled, my voice shaking as I nervously clear my throat. 

In front of me stood a very tall gentleman, easily dwarfing my lean 5'10" frame. His impressive height isn't the only thing intimidating about this man. His build is bulky, all muscle that I'm sure hasn't seen an ounce of body fat in years. Rigid stance and feet spread apart in a dominant position the man oozed an "I'll fuck you up" air around him that was emphasized by his tan hands balled into two white-knuckled fists at his side.

However, my attention is more drawn to his legs. Long legs that were covered in a dark black dress pants. Pants that proudly held a name brand that would most likely charge me for just reading their logo. Expensive pants that were now drenched in my sister's bottle of orange juice. I watch in horror as the stain on the leg seeps into the material. The sticky drops of sugar rolled from the very top of the pant leg all the way down to the ankle, gently beginning to puddle onto the dirty tile floor.

"You're right, that's no fucking excuse for not being able to keep your kids in line!" the man angrily grits out. His voice is gravely and slightly grating against my ears. The noise was almost scratchy, as if he was used to having to yell for long durations at a time.

Embarrassed, tired, and irritated, I don't respond. My head drops even lower and I can feel myself slowly trying to sink into the tile under my feet. I'm no coward, but I'm also not stupid. The guy's thigh looks to be the size of my entire torso, so the best option seems to not add any more fuel to the argument. Not to mention, if the suit was any indication of his status in town, I don't need to get on his bad side so he can make our lives a living hell the whole time we're here.

Although the man obviously hasn't ever had any interaction with children. When this is over, I'm going to make sure the kids stay far, far away from him!

I let out a very tired sigh, not interested in prolonging this interaction any more than needed.

"Look, we just moved here and I don't want the town to think we're a bunch of delinquents. Charlotte will give a heartfelt apology, and I'm also willing to pay for the dry cleaning. Sound fair?" I ask, still not brave enough to look the man in his face, my eyes lift from the floor, but stop at his broad chest. 

Please say that's fair. I can't afford a shirt replacement! 

"Fair! FAIR!? Just from looking at you, I can tell these pants are worth more than your fucking life!" the man's voice booms, echoing across the store. 

I wince as my ears ring in an unpleasant way and barely have time to register the man getting out his phone.

"I'm calling the police for harassment," he says with full authority quickly turning on his phone, "let this be a lesson to you and your siblings of what discipline and authority look like and the consequence of breaking it." 

Are you fucking kidding me! Harassment? Police!? If I have a record the kids will be thrown into the system, ASSHOLE!

Anger consumes me, along with a fierce parental protectiveness toward my kids. A little scene in a store early on a Sunday morning, fucking fine. I can handle a tan boulder of a Karen. But threatening the safety of my family?! The flames of hell were about to shoot from my ears. 

"Now you listen here you over pompous, cum dump piece of SHIT! It's a fucking piece of clothing! How small is your dick that you need to overcompensate so hard by calling the cops on a fucking five-year-old?!" I scream, getting chest (head) to chest with the monster of a man. 

My nose is almost touching him, and I have the urge to stick my finger in his chest, but quickly thought better of it as I didn't want to actually break my hand.

Behind me, I hear the cashier gasp and from the corner of my eye see him visibly trembling. As if my resistance to the man's authority was unfathomable for the worker.

I internally scoff, Bring it on bitch, I'm a mama bear on the loose.

The young worker's reaction further spurs my anger. Who cares what position the bastard holds on the city council, he doesn't get to threaten people like that. In fact, if he does hold any power it should be revoked with this type of incessant behavior!

I begin to raise my gaze.

 His lips are pressed in a very thin line, and his tan cheeks have turned an unattractive splotchy red. If the situation wasn't so serious I'd have the urge to laugh.

 "How dare you! Fucking submit your piece of..." His speech comes to a slow stop and his jaw goes slack as my gaze finally meets his.

His eyes are brown.

Although, I guess brown would be an over-exaggeration. They weren't deep and rich, or an endless soulful black. Nor were they an exotic light hazel, or caramel. They were more just kind of...there. Lifeless and dull, kinda like the rest of the town. 

Maybe muddy brown was a more accurate description?

Surrounding his eyes were the very beginnings of crow's feet, otherwise known as laugh lines...I guess he smiled at people's misery. Those wrinkles also seemed to match the beginnings of deepened frown lines surrounding his mouth and creased lines in the middle of his forehead.

A clattering brought me out of my staring, and I glanced down to see the shattered remnants of the man's phone strewn across the floor. 

Fucking great, is he going to accuse me of breaking his phone too, suing for the destruction of property?! 

Taking advantage of the man's stupefied state I turn around to see a scared Kels gripping the two boys' hands, who both wore equally horrified expressions. Not knowing how this situation is going to end, I don't want the kids to witness any more than they already have. They've seen way too much already.

Digging into my pocket, I fish out the car keys and hand them to Kelsey. 

"Here, take the kids to the van. I'll be out shortly." 

Kelsey gives me a nervous glance trying to protest, "Bray-". 

"Go," I demand leaving no room for argument. I push Charlotte her way, but she doesn't let go of my shirt. "Charlotte," I try to gently coax, "you need to go with Kels." 

With great reluctance, her clenched fist releases the fabric of my top, but her head subtly shakes 'no' as repetitive whimpers of "I didn't mean to" trail her. Kelsey gives me one last worried look, seeing the no-doubt seething bull behind me, as she ushers the kids out of the store. 

Having had a second to catch my breath, I'm suddenly reminded why I had resisted the urge to retaliate against the man when he had first made a scene...he was huge.

I'm fucked.