Perfectly Broken (35 page)

Reed shrugged. “You’d know since that’s what you did to Mom.”

Richard stepped forward — his once-charming eyes now on fire, his musk cologne filling the room. “I’m losing money over this! You need to make things right with her!” Reed glanced at Peyton, making sure she was holding up. “Heather always thought you two would marry and run our business. Then you just use her and toss her aside?” Richard turned to Peyton. “He’ll do the same thing to you.”

“Don’t talk to her!”

“Why? Because I’m telling her the truth? You’re a lot like me, Son.”

Reed clenched a fist. “I’m
nothing
like you.”

Richard took another step forward, his cologne now smacking Peyton hard, tearing into her, triggering an altogether different smell — the nasty, pungent odor of the construction site, her own blood, her face in the dirt. She could feel herself slipping back. She tried to control herself but didn’t think she could. The last place she wanted to flash was in Reed’s old bedroom in front of his father.

“Let’s go,” Peyton said, nudging Reed to leave.

Reed shook his head. He wasn’t going anywhere. At last he was ready to stand his ground. She dropped his hand and headed for the door herself.

“I thought you said you were staying,” Richard mused, as she put her hand on the doorknob, “though I’m frankly not surprised since I understand you left my son before.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dad!”

Peyton removed her hand from the doorknob and dug her nails into her palm. “That was because of you, Mr. Langston. I left your son because I was sick — because of
you
. And I needed some time to get better.” She turned to face him, a cold steel in her eyes. “Your friend, Heather, she made sure I knew every last detail about you. And believe me, I didn’t want to know any of it.”

“Young lady,” he bellowed, “you cannot....”

“I find it really strange, Mr. Langston, that you’d want Reed to spend more time with Heather — a girl who had no problem telling me you are a
rapist
.”

Richard took a step back, his knees buckling, as if Peyton had just slapped him. “I never raped that girl,” he said firmly, believably, his eyes trained on his son.

“Oh, just a little sexual assault then?” she pressed.

“Absolutely not,” Richard said, as Reed reached to pull Peyton behind him. But she swatted his hand away. “I did nothing of the sort.”

“No, women lie about being raped all the time,” Reed said and reached again for Peyton, giving her trembling hand a little squeeze, drawing her back to his side.

“They most certainly do, Son, when they think they can cash in. I’ve tried to tell you this forever. You have to have your guard up when you’re a man of certain wealth.”

“By going to sex clubs?” Peyton quipped.

Richard shook his head and smiled. “Better get a prenup, Reed, if
this
goes any further.”

“Thank you, Mr. Langston. I’ll make sure to protect my assets.” Peyton looked at Reed. “I thought you only wanted me for my body — not my bank account.”

“You are feisty, aren’t you?” Richard raised an eye to his son. “Lucky you.”

“Fuck off, Dad.” Reed headed towards the door with Peyton. “Besides, I hear postnups are better.”

Richard’s eyes bulged. “Your mother told you?”

Reed reached for the doorknob, but the door swung open at them. “Kids, lunch is getting cold,” Marion said, appearing in the doorway wearing baking mittens. Her cheery eyes moved past her son and Peyton and swooped down upon her husband, like a vulture finding its prey. “You’re not supposed to be here, Richard.”

“We couldn’t finish our round,” he said. “There was a bit of storm damage on the course.”

“Don’t give me explanations,” Marion snapped. “I’ve heard them long enough.”

Reed and Peyton gave each other a look. The man may have thought he wore the pants in the family, but he didn’t have the first damn clue.

“Now what is this all about?” Marion asked her son, seeing he was upset.

“Heather.”

Marion sighed and removed her mittens. “She’s like an STD you can’t cure.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Marion?”

“This is
totally
my business, Richard. We have company, and you’ve ruined our lunch.”

“Dad, we wouldn’t have come if we knew you’d be here.”

“I have no idea what you’re so upset about,” Richard said.

Reed took a step forward, his blood boiling. “Maybe it’s that you’re a shitty father.”

“Not here, Reed, not now,” Marion begged, stepping between the men.

“You’re finally opening up to me, Son. I’m seeing a new side of you.”

“You bring out the worst in me, Dad.” Peyton placed a hand on Reed’s back, not encouraging him but not pulling him away, either.

“Then get out of my house,” Richard barked.

Marion looked her husband in the eye. “Shut up, Richard. You should remember whose house this is.”

“I hate you!” Reed roared.

“Reed!” his mother cried. “Please don’t!”

“I hate you for what you did to Mom!” Marion lowered her head and stepped out of the way. There was nothing she could do anymore. “I hate you more for that than anything you did to me! I have no idea why you are the way you are! You hurt people and seem to like it! Whether you assaulted that girl or not, you destroyed your marriage! You destroyed our family! You destroyed any love I ever had for you!” He felt Peyton’s hands on his arms, her lips lowered to his shoulder. “But you won’t destroy my life.”

Richard started to respond, but Reed ignored him and looked at his mother, gently holding her son’s letterman jacket in her hands, tears falling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Mom. It was your choice to stay, and it’s my choice to leave. I won’t ever step foot in this house again.”

Marion’s breath caught. “Can I come visit you? And Peyton, too?”

“Of course,” he said, taking a seat next to his mother and drying her tears with his hands. “Come visit whenever you want. Take Peyton to the spa and whatever else you two want to do together. But I’ll be damned if his poison infects me any longer. And if he says anything to Peyton ever again, I will fuck him up.” Reed’s eyes hardened, as he turned to his father. “In the meantime, you can go fuck yourself.”

He kissed his mother on the cheek and took Peyton by the hand. They reached the doorway, and Reed looked back at his mother. “I’m sorry for my language, Mom.” She nodded she understood, then they left the room and headed down the stairs.

When the front door opened and closed, Marion glared at her husband — with a look only a pissed-off wife can give, a look that there most assuredly will be hell to pay. “He’s your only son, our only child.” Her husband moved to speak but stopped when his wife held up her hand. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Richard.” Marion threw a mitten at him then walked to her son’s closet to hang up the letterman jacket. “I cooked for hours, and you screwed up everything.”

REED COULDN’T SHAKE
what had happened for days. He was distant and withdrawn, more angry than ever at his father and the depths of his family’s bullshit — all on full embarrassing display. He wondered why his parents ever married, if they were ever happy together, ever full of hope and excitement like Bret and Quinn — maybe in the early part of their marriage, he thought, perhaps before he was born.

His family consumed him, made him question himself, his own future, what life had in store. He knew he’d never turn out like his father but wondered whether the dysfunction in which he was raised would somehow stay with him forever. It was easier to build a skyscraper in the Central Business District than to envision what the future held for him.

Peyton took it upon herself to cheer him up. She showed up unannounced at the warehouse and dragged him away, whisking him off to his favorite place in the city, the Cornstalk Hotel, hoping that would help him escape, at least for a little while. “I know I said I’d never stay in a hotel with you,” she said, “but I figured I could make an exception.” She looked so adorable walking through the warehouse in a hard hat like she belonged there, even if the trail of construction workers eyeing her ass was a bit unnerving.

They’d spent the entire afternoon in the hotel room making love and holding each other in the very place he’d so often admired from the outside, with its strong black iron fence, a romantic gesture of its long-ago owner. He’d now finally enjoyed the pleasures on the inside. But after the surprise and orgasmic hangovers passed, the reality of his life came flooding back, with all its stress, sadness, brokenness.

Peyton nuzzled into his chest in the oversized tub, pink rose petals floating all around them. Reed kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes to try to relax. She caressed his cheek. “I wanted to wait until the weekend to stay here, but my period’s due. So I figured it was now or never. Sorry it can’t be longer.”

“One night is great.” He leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “Thanks, babe.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” she flirted, staring into his steel blue eyes. Reed grinned and pulled her on top of him, slipping himself back inside. Peyton moved back and slid him out. “I know the stuff with your father is still bothering you. Talk to me.”

“I think you heard enough.” He started to get out of the tub.

“Reed?”

“No.”

She grabbed his hand. “Sit back down,” she said softly. “We don’t have to talk about anything.”

He lowered himself into the warmth of the water, the warmth of her arms. Peyton held him close, wishing he’d talk to her, open himself up a little bit. She wanted to help him, but it seemed she could only help by letting him screw her until he forgot — forgot about his own screwed-up family. She released a deep breath, sensing her mini stay-cation was good for sex but not his mood. She hated seeing him like this and wondered if anyone ever had, probably not even his mother. Then her heart melted a little. He wasn’t talking but in his own way was letting her in, letting her see him in a different way, to see him in his pain. He felt safe enough to do that. He felt loved enough to do that.

He rested his head on her shoulder, hating himself, hating his father, knowing she was trying so hard. And he wasn’t giving her anything.
Except orgasms
. But he just couldn’t do it — he couldn’t talk about his father, his fears, his insecurities. And he didn’t have the energy to try. He didn’t want to burden her, to have her carry his scar. It was his job to deal with it. She had her own issues.

And he could tell the past few days she was a little different, a little less herself, likely still bothered by the little family get-together. She never said so, but it was certainly understandable if it was. His father had a way of fucking with people’s minds. She sure seemed fine during sex, though. And that’s when he felt good, too. But it couldn’t last, not with her period coming.
Awful timing.

Peyton smiled up at him. “Want to know my favorite pie?”

“I figured that out already.”

“I doubt that.”

Reed loved a challenge. “Want to lose another bet?”

“No, when you get it wrong again, you’ll spend five minutes talking to me about what’s going on inside that handsome head of yours.”

Reed shook his head at her. “When I get it right, you’ll slide me back inside you.”

“Guess away.”

Reed sat up, a cocky look on his face. “You don’t like pie.”

Peyton’s mouth dropped open. “How?”

“You’re a cake girl.”

“I guess you know all my secrets now.”

He lifted her on top of him, water splashing all around. “Time to collect.”

* * *

After checking out of the hotel, Reed spent the next few nights at her house and woke up the same way each morning. He reached for Peyton beside him but found only a cold bed sheet.

He knew better than to call out for her. It was the fourth straight morning she’d been gone, leaving earlier than usual for her morning run. He thought maybe she was still burning off the stress of his parents’ house, or maybe she was upset that he was still moody and distant despite her efforts to pull him out of it. After all, they hadn’t had sex since the Cornstalk Hotel — not even shower sex.
Maybe she’s holding out until I talk.
He didn’t know what was going on. There were so many questions, so much uncertainty.

He looked at her face on his phone. She was the one thing he was certain of. He sent her a text and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Peyton rounded the curve of Audubon Park, her heart pounding, legs weak, head dizzy. She ran so hard she felt she could throw up. She heard a ding on her phone, knowing it was Reed, but kept running. She figured if she kept going she wouldn’t have the energy to feel guilty for leaving him once again.

Besides, she had enough on her mind already. And she couldn’t tell Reed, still reeling from confronting his father, to the point he sometimes seemed a million miles away. And it didn’t seem there was anything she could do to help him. So she hid it from him and put on a brave face, not wanting to burden him perhaps unnecessarily with anything else.

On top of that, it wasn’t everyday she found herself in a room with an alleged rapist — the father of the man she loved. It wasn’t something she could just easily move on from or quickly forget. Her body wouldn’t let her anyway. The past several nights she tasted a foul metal, and the putrid odor of the construction site was as strong as ever. The taste, the smell, it all brought her right back to college, like she’d never left and could never escape. It seemed she’d never be normal — and never have a normal family, either.

She wished Reed came with a full package, a set of parents who could make up for the ones she never truly had. She enjoyed the occasional date with Marion, but there’d never be any holidays or birthdays with the Langstons, and if she and Reed ever got married and had children, she’d never let them visit their house. So it seemed family dysfunction — of one kind or another — was destined to continue. There didn’t seem any way around it.

Suddenly Peyton slowed her pace, not knowing if Reed was even interested in marriage or having children. Then she stopped running altogether. She pulled out her earbuds and read his text.
I miss you in the mornings
. She held her phone to her forehead, knowing she was hurting him and hating herself for it.