Peyton's Path: Fickle Fate: Book 3

by SM Olivier

  What did these people want? Was Tormentor back? Did Priscilla and her boy toy put someone up to this?

  I was roughly thrown forward. I tripped over my own feet but managed to catch myself before crashing to the floor. Blood filled my mouth as I bit the inside of my cheek.

  The pain in my mouth momentarily distracted me. That was until I felt hands grab my arms and legs again. I screamed and thrashed against my captors, but it came out as a squeak through my raw vocal cords. I felt a sharp sting at my hip before I felt the cold air hit my body.

  I shuddered, thrashed, and attempted to scream again as I realized whoever had captured me was removing my clothing. The wet warmth trailing down my hip was a clear indication that I had been cut.

  The pain in my chest intensified. My breathing became shallow. Total terror and anxiety nearly paralyzed me.

  Why? Why me! What had I done to deserve the treatment I continually received?

  I felt someone push me forward, and out of pure reflex I extended my hands to prevent my face from meeting the ground. I let out an inarticulate sound as someone kneeled on the small of my back. They gripped the ends of my hair from the hood and yanked my head back. I gasped and hoarsely screamed out in pain. A peal of cruel feminine laughter filled my ears.

  “This should teach you to stay away from things that aren’t yours,” the girl hissed in my ear. “Butch needs his men released, and he wants his boys back. I want my man back. Leave Crew and Kyler alone, and we’ll leave you alone. And don’t think for one moment to run to the cops. Look how easy it was for us to get to you in a hallway full of people. Imagine how easy it’ll be if we decided to pick up those snot-nosed brats? Do you know who we have working for us can easily walk away with either one of them and no one would bat an eye? Would you want them to suffer for your mistakes?”

  My body was frozen in shock. My flight or fight instincts seemed to be completely shut off as my panic rose. What little light I could see through the hood was extinguished as a door slammed shut.

  Memories of another time I was shoved in darkness infiltrated my fragile mind. I immediately surmised that I was in a janitor's closet. The smell of pungent cleaning supplies invaded my nose. The sound of a leaking faucet pervaded my ears. The tightness in my chest increased. Soon I was I gasping for my next breath. All the research I did to help my panic attacks eluded me. My vision faded to darkness as I lost another battle.

  ●

  I heard Lochlann’s voice in the distance. “Peyton, breathe for me, love, breathe,”

  “Here,” I heard Zane's voice filled with pain and guilt, “Put this on her.”

  Uncontrolled spasms seized my body, and I felt like I had been immersed in ice-cold water. My teeth gnashed together audibly, and I jerked in the warm arms that engulfed me.

  “Who the fuck did this to her?” I heard Golden growl.

  I felt warm hands caress my body as something was placed over my head, and my arms were slipped into a long-sleeved shirt. I caught a whiff of Zane’s cologne and realized that one of his shirts had been placed on me.

  “The cops and ambulance are on the way,” Principal Fanning reported grimly somewhere nearby.

  I cringed, hoping he hadn’t seen me naked.

  Where were we?

  My eyes snapped open, and I was met with concerned electric blue eyes behind wired-rimmed glasses. I wildly looked around and was relieved to find Mr. Fanning wasn’t in the small room. I could only see Lochlann, Crew, Golden, Paxton, and Crew, even though the door was open, leading out into the hallway.

  I tried to crawl into Lochlann’s lap as Zane crouched down beside us.

  “If you hold her up, I’ll help you slide this on her,” Zane said, grimly holding up a pair of sweatpants. “I’m so sorry, beautiful. I shouldn’t have let them pull you away from me.”

  I tried to answer him, but my voice was raw. I couldn’t tell him I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t tell him that we’d been hoodwinked and had been a setup. Startling clarity slammed into me as I realized who the feminine voice belonged to.

  Jana.

  Understanding dawned on me as I realized why I had been accosted, pushed into a closet, and stripped bare.

  It was evident that Jana had been the mastermind behind the intimidation tactic. I was sure she got her orders from Butch and was only too happy to execute them. Butch really wanted his men released from jail and maybe even wanted his sons to follow in the “family” business.

  After Crew’s revelation, it was apparent that Jana was eager to be his girlfriend again. According to Crew, she always had a crush on him. He had entertained her and even began a relationship with her. Out of a sense of guilt and obligation when her father took the fall for his father, he believed he should give her pursuits an attempt.

  He had even convinced himself he had cared for her. But her decision to get rid of the baby and her determination to follow in their father’s footsteps had been unforgivable to him. Crew didn’t want to be with a person that was so enamored with “the life,” one that had made his own mother abandon them, leaving his father with no warning.

  He’d seen the money his father used to make. He’d witnessed the ugly side of that business. He chose to separate himself from that life. She wouldn’t or couldn’t understand that. It was abundantly apparent that Crew wanted no part of that type of life, no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise.

  My mind was processing everything as Lochlann pulled me in closer. The feeling in my legs and arms seemed to have slowly returned. The tremors had subsided. I wasted no time climbing into his lap and winding my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. I leaned my head against his chest, seeking out the steady thump of his heart.

  I needed him to ground me. I needed to have my wits about me as I decided on my next course of action. I didn’t know if I should tell the cops what I knew about my attackers. I was uncertain if I should tell Kyler the warning that had been delivered to me. My mind was spinning in circles, and as indecision warred in my mind, I felt the panic return.

  “Where the fuck were you?” Crew growled out before I heard something slam into the lockers in the hall.

  I jumped and looked over my shoulder. I saw Enzo pinned to the lockers as Crew held a muscular forearm across his neck. The older, smaller man struggled against his hold, but it was futile. He didn’t have the weight or strength Crew had. He also didn’t have wrath pouring through his veins as Crew did.

  I already knew Crew would kill anyone on my behalf. Enzo was walking on thin ice after allowing Priscilla so close to me, and Crew already determined he would never trust the man to watch over me. Now this.

  “Mr. Fairchild,” Mr. Fanning called in a warning.

  “Chill, man, chill,” I heard Paxton coax Crew.

  A weird, garbled noise emerged from my throat in distress. I hated Enzo, and I already knew he was gone after his latest neglect. However, I didn’t want Crew to get in trouble on my behalf. His future wasn’t worth Enzo’s meaningless existence. Enzo already had his punishment coming towards him.

  It took Paxton, Golden, and Zane to wrestle Crew from Enzo, who had been turning an alarming shade of red as Crew nearly choked the life out of him. Enzo fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Mr. Fanning said between clenched teeth. “Pull another stunt like that, Mr. Fairchild, and your ass will be sitting on the bench for the rest of the season.”

  Crew’s chest noticeably rose with controlled fury, but he gave a short nod of acknowledgment.

  “Excuse me!” I heard a scuffling of feet as I saw two paramedics arrive with a stretcher.

  “No,” I finally spoke gutturally. “Fine.”

  My throat was raw, my head hurt, my back stung, and I knew there would be bruises on my knees, but I didn’t want to go to the hospital. In fact, I had been poked and prodded enough to last a lifetime. I had grown a vast aversion to hospitals.

  “You need to be chec
ked out,” Lochlann insisted as he cradled my face.

  I frantically shook my head. I didn’t want to get checked out. I wanted to finish the rest of the school day. I needed to lose myself in cheer and dance as I decided what my next course of action was. I needed to make some decisions, and I didn’t know how to approach them.

  “Peyton, love,” Lochlann murmured. “You have a bruise on your forehead, and you have a shallow cut on your back. You need to see how serious it was.”

  “I called Grandpa Delaney,” Zane spoke up. “He said to take her to the house, and he’ll send Dr. Baylor.”

  I shook my head obstinately.

  “Peyton, you are going with these people or home,” Lochlann said firmly. “We need to make sure you’re okay.”

  I looked at all the guys. I could see I had worried them. Again.

  I sagged in defeat. I had to consider the guys’ feelings. Yes, I was stubborn enough to try to power through the pain, but I knew they wouldn’t feel at peace with my decision until I was seen.

  And if I had to be seen, Bryce would be my best option. Dr. Bryce Baylor was someone I trusted implicitly. If anyone was going to see if I was physically okay, he was the only one I would want near me. His presence was oddly calming, and he was brilliant.

  “Home,” I rasped.

  “Lochlann?” Mr. Fanning said as Lochlann stood with me still in his arms.

  Lochlann looked up at him and then down at me. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, Steve.”

  “Lochlann—” Mr. Fanning prodded.

  Lochlann shook his head. “Not right now, Steve. We’ll talk later. Peyton is family and right now my family needs me.”

  With that, he strode out of the closet room while I leaned into him. I hoped he hadn’t just jeopardized his career, but I was happy he was making a stand for us.

  15

  ●

  Enter Player 2 and 3

  “Do you have any clue who may have attacked you?” Officer Pope asked as he took a seat at the dining room table.

  Dr. Baylor had just left and reassured the guys that I was physically okay. I had the shallow cut on my hip and slight bruising on my wrist from where I had tried to prevent a face-plant, but everything else was fine. I told Bryce about my issue with not being able to scream earlier but he said it was to be expected. He informed me that with my vocal chords still healing I would have my good days and bad days. Stress could also be a major factor in how they operated, he’d said. Before he left, he had once again handed me business cards for a few therapists and “strongly” suggested that I talk to one of them.

  I picked up my hot tea with lemon and honey and took a sip of it. “No, sir.” I shook my head.

  I had to lie. I couldn’t tell Officer Pope the truth; I had to talk to Kyler and Lochlann first. As Bryce examined me, I determined that I had to inform the guys, at least a few of them. They were the oldest, and I hoped they would have a suggestion on how I should proceed.

  I wanted to protect the kids, but there was no way I was leaving Kyler and Crew− not that they would let me. I was relatively sure Crew hadn’t told his brother about Butch, which I wish he had done. Now that Butch planned to reel his sons back in, it was pertinent Kyler found out soon rather than later. When the time was right, I would inform the others.

  I knew I couldn’t tell Crew right now. He was already in the red zone. Golden was just as vindictive and ruthless, and I could envision him going after Jana and her gang. Zane was still carrying around guilt for allowing me to be carried away. And Paxton wasn’t in the right emotional state just yet.

  “You didn’t see them?” Officer Pope asked as his eyebrows knitted together.

  I shook my head as Paxton brought over a snack tray of deli meat, cheese, and crackers.

  “They grabbed me from behind,” I explained past a dry throat. I took another sip of my drink. “There was a fight in the middle of the hallway. Then my attackers put a hood over my head. I believe there were four or five of them.”

  “Did you check the recordings?” Lochlann asked with a frown as he brought a cup of coffee over for Officer Pope.

  Officer Pope took a sip before he frowned. “The whole system was down.”

  “How convenient,” Golden said as he paced near the back door.

  “Peyton’s mom visited her today,” Paxton blurted out. “She wants those guys who trespassed the other night released from jail.”

  I tensed up, grateful that Crew and Zane returned to school for football practice. They tried to stay home, but Lochlann and I had reminded them that the homecoming game was this Friday. It made me happy that they wanted to stay with me, but my drama had affected their lives enough as of late.

  Paxton was on the right track and I prayed he wouldn’t put the pieces together. We were just talking about Butch and Jana at lunch today. If Butch and Walter were using my mom, they could easily use Jana for the same purpose.

  “The cameras outside the building were working, and no one came into the building. We believe it was students who launched the assault.” Officer Pope shook his head. “And we can’t and won’t release those men. A couple of them have warrants out for their arrest. The other two have rap sheets just as bad. Do you think your mother was involved?” He turned to look back at me.

  I placed a piece of pepper jack cheese and pepperoni on a cracker, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremor in my hands. I had to act as naturally as possible. Somehow, I didn’t think divulging everything to Officer Pope right now was the best course of action.

  If Butch was behind this, I wanted to make sure at least Kyler knew, before he was blindsided with the information. Plus, Butch had already proven how resourceful he could be. Butch had evaded the FBI and ATF the first time. I was sure that, in the years of his absence, he had only become more evasive to catch.

  Plus, there was the threat to the children. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let anything happen to them. I knew we couldn’t let these people get away with it, but I wanted to first discuss it with Kyler and Lochlann. They should be able to navigate this better than I could. Right?

  “Priscilla wants to mend our relationship,” I continued to lie. “She left with another man. He seems to be her usual type of loser.”

  I popped the food in my mouth.

  “Did they say anything to you? Did you recognize any of their voices?” Officer Pope continued to probe.

  I shook my head as I made myself another cracker with salami and extra sharp cheddar.

  “I heard a girl and a guy. The others didn’t speak,” I said with a careless shrug. “I didn’t recognize their voices.” As I continued to lie, I felt incredibly guilty. “I only take three classes and mainly hang out with the guys. I also had a panic attack,” I say quietly. “A lot of things are fuzzy when it happens.”

  At least that was the truth.

  Officer Pope looked at me in contemplation. I knew he knew I was lying.

  He gave a short nod before he stood, draining the rest of his coffee. “Thanks for the coffee, folks. You know my number if you think of anything else or figure out who did this to you. You deserve justice, Peyton.”

  I stared down at another cracker and gave him a short nod. “Thanks, Officer Pope,” I mumbled before placing more food in my mouth.

  Silence hung in the air as Lochlann walked Officer Pope to the door. I could hear their murmurs as they headed down the hall.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Paxton inquired the moment Officer Pope is out of earshot.

  “Shutter,” I muttered before standing up.

  Shutter was a word Paxton and I had used when we first met. It was code for avoiding touchy subjects. I hated to use it on him now, but I didn’t want to go into details as of yet. Eventually, they would know, but I needed a course of action first.

  I walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. I was still drinking my coffee, but my mouth suddenly felt dry.

  “That’s bullshit, Pey,” Paxton said with an
intensity that surprised me.

  He slammed one hand on the counter while running his other hand through his hair in agitation.

  “And I never agreed to the shutter crap,” Golden argued. “If you know who did this to you, we need to know.”

  “I’m not ready to talk about it,” I insisted.

  “Don’t give us that crap, Peyton.” Golden sighed heavily. “That’s not how relationships work.”

  I shrugged and looked at them with an impassive look. I wanted to tell the guys, but I trusted my instincts to wait.

  “Whatever,” Paxton cursed once more. “I’m gonna go get Clay.”

  Golden continued to stare at me. I continued to stare back.

  It wasn’t until Paxton angrily stormed away that I chased after him. I hated hurting him. He had opened up to me last night, and he deserved the truth, just not yet.

  I grabbed his wrist to spin him around and grabbed him by the back of his neck. I pulled his head down to mine and kissed him. He was reluctant to reciprocate at first, but then I felt him respond. He was a bit feral as he nipped my bottom lip. It made warmth spread to my loins immediately.

  When we finally pulled away, we were both breathing heavily. “Let me process this first, okay?” I pleaded softly. “I love you,” I whispered near Paxton’s ear. “Please drive carefully.”

  He stared at me for a moment before giving me a reluctant nod. “I love you, too, Peyton, but I don’t like feeling like I’m being shut out. I thought we made progress in our relationship last night, and today I feel like you’re retreating.”

  “I’m not retreating,” I insisted fervently. “I’m regrouping. I need to think.”

  He sighed heavily and nodded before kissing my forehead. “Please don’t take too long,” he requested before turning to leave.

  “I still think it's crap,” Golden muttered, but I knew his emotions weren’t as fragile as Paxton’s.