Trepidation churned in his gut and Michael lifted his gaze to the tray ceiling above his king sized bed. “Let me back up a little.” He ran a nervous hand back and forth over his forehead as he gathered his thoughts. “Growing up, I watched my biological father, Lewis, use my mother’s face and body as a punching bag. He was abusive just like his father had been. For years, I was afraid for my mother and me. I thought for sure I’d come home one day from school and find her dead.”
“Oh, Michael.” Peyton placed a kiss on his shoulder and another on his lips. She draped her arm across his chest, her body partially covering his as she embraced him. Michael found comfort in the simple move. As if she were somehow telling him, without saying the words, that he was safe.
Michael’s gaze returned to the ceiling, as he debated how much to tell Peyton about his parents. His chest tightened at the memory of the last fight between them.
“The last time I saw Lewis was the day I called 911 because I thought he had killed my mother. I found him leaning over her, his hands around her neck and blood seeping from a gash on the side of her head.”
Peyton gasped. “Oh my God.” She leaned back to look at him. “What did you do?”
Tension coiled through Michael’s body, gripping him like a metal vise around his neck. It was as if he was back in that living room, reliving every detail. Terror rioted through him at the sight of his mother’s blood painting the carpet red. Even now he could smell Lewis reeking of urine, and stale beer mixed with sweat. He could see the crimson color on his father’s hands supporting the evidence of what that monster had done.
“I hit him on the back of the head with a lamp. After I pushed him off of my mother, I called 911. I had just turned nine and was scared to death that my mother was dead and that I had killed Lewis.” Michael glanced down, realizing his hands were balled into a fist. He opened and closed them several times, releasing some of the tightness in his body.
He sat up straighter, forcing Peyton to do the same when he leaned against the headboard, the large pillows supporting his back. He pulled Peyton against him, and she tugged the sheet up higher over her naked body.
Michael gathered his thoughts and continued, forcing himself to tell Peyton everything.
“Carlton was one of the responding officers.”
“Was that your first time meeting, Carlton?”
Michael nodded.
“When they got there, was Lewis—”
“Passed out drunk with a gash on the back of his head from where I had hit him. Carlton told me that Lewis was probably too drunk to feel any pain.”
“Did they arrest him?”
Michael hesitated. “My mother agreed not to press charges if he left us alone and never returned.”
“Did he agree to her terms?”
“Yeah. He disappeared after that.” For years, Michael didn’t support his mother’s decision. It wasn’t until Carlton returned home one day and told them that Lewis had been found shot to death in Staten Island.
Peyton tried to hide a yawn, but failed, and Michael draped his arm around her. One o’clock in the morning wasn’t the best time to talk about something so heavy, but when he’d tried to tell her about some of his past earlier that morning before checking out of the hotel, she didn’t want to talk. She had pulled him into the shower with her, and suddenly he didn’t want to talk either.
“Carlton stepped in once my father was out of the picture.” Michael shook his head, shivering at what could have become of him had it not been for the man he now called Dad. “He saved my life…in more ways than one. I had been cutting up in school, but he wasn’t having none of that. He told me I had to get my shit together.”
Peyton leaned back to look at Michael. “And what did you do?”
Michael chuckled, a lightness coming over him as he remembered the early days with Carlton. “I got my shit together. You’ve seen him. Dude is huge, and he carried a gun.”
Peyton laughed and snuggled back against Michael, listening as he explained about how well Carlton treated him and his mother.
“I wanted to be just like him.”
As a decorated police officer, everyone on the police force looked up to Carlton and even after retiring, he was still held in high regard. Right out of high school, Michael had joined NYPD’s police academy and was a cop for seven years, with every intention of being an officer until the day he retired. That was until the bar fight.
His heart hammered. Michael still needed to tell Peyton about the night at the bar, but with the story came even more information about him that he wanted to keep buried. If he didn’t tell her, there was no chance of there ever being more between them.
“The abuse I witnessed stayed with me. Though I have never raised my hand to a woman like Lewis and his father did, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t fear that I might turn into them.”
Peyton turned to him, holding the sheet to her chest. “Michael, I haven’t known you that long, but you’re nothing like them. You would never hurt a woman, and I believe that with all of my heart. You are the most thoughtful, gentlest man I have ever met.”
Michael shook his head. “You might not think that when I tell you what happened during the bar fight.” He threw off the covers and slipped on his boxer briefs before walking over to the sitting area near the fireplace. He couldn’t continue with the story lying next to her.
Peyton watched him from across the room. He had no idea what she was thinking as she gathered up the bedding, covering herself even more. She stared at him without speaking.
Dropping down in one of the chairs, Michael rested his elbows on his thighs, rubbing his hands together trying to form the right words to tell his story. He glanced up and met Peyton’s gaze.
“I’d had a couple of drinks before Octavia showed up, liquid courage in order to tell her that I couldn’t do the whole relationship thing.”
Peyton’s eyes dimmed at his words. He’d given her a similar speech while in Jamaica.
“I guess I wasn’t the only one with breaking news that night. Octavia told me she was pregnant. I didn’t know what to think. Part of me thought she was lying, but I knew she had been sick for the two weeks leading up to that day. I just never imagined she could be pregnant.”
Michael sat back in his seat and rubbed a shaky hand over his head. Peyton said nothing, her gaze steady on him as she waited patiently for him to finish.
“I needed space. Time to think. So I went outside for a smoke.” Her brows lifted and he shrugged. “Oh yeah, I used to smoke too.”
A slight smile graced her lips, and an invisible band tightened across Michael’s chest, squeezing him. With every hour spent with her, she consumed a little more of his heart. He knew she was too good for him, but damn if he didn’t still want her.
“What happened next?” she asked.
“When I went back into the bar, Octavia was still sitting at the table nursing a glass of water, but she wasn’t alone. A guy was sitting across from her, getting all in her face. When she stood to leave, he blocked her path and grabbed her arm. Peyton, something inside of me snapped when he wouldn’t release her. Everything after that happened so fast, I only remember bits and pieces. I yanked him away from her, telling him that she was with me and that he needed to respect a woman when she said no. We both had been drinking, but I do remember saying that.”
Michael stood, unable to sit still any longer, anxiousness clawing inside of him. Telling the story to someone who meant more to him than he ever thought possible, had him worried. Maybe he was kidding himself thinking that he and Peyton could ever be anything more than friends.
“Tell me the rest,” she said interrupting his musings.
“The guy broke a beer bottle. He swung his arm out and caught me just right, swiping the broken glass across my neck.” Michael shook his head, guilt stabbing him in the heart. “Blood dripped down the front of my shirt and … I lost it. I slammed him against a wall and punched him, over and over a
nd over. Before I knew it, I had the guy pinned to the ground, blood covering my hands. I didn’t know if it was mine or his, but then he stopped moving.”
“Oh, Michael,” Peyton said on a sob, her words barely audible.
“I killed the man with my bare hands that night.”
Chapter Thirteen
Heart pounding like an out of control jackhammer, Peyton leaned against the headboard, her hands hovering over her mouth. She hadn’t been sure what Michael would say, but she hadn’t expected that.
“A number of things saved my ass that night, but I’m grateful that I didn’t have my off-duty service weapon on me. I know I would have used it if I’d had it.” Michael continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb that made her heart race and her mind spin. Since he was once a cop, it wasn’t like Peyton hadn’t thought about the possibility that he had killed someone, but this. “The next few months were some of the worst months of my life. I was suspended without pay from work during the investigation, and Luke worked like hell to get the murder charge dropped to second-degree manslaughter.”
Peyton hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks until Michael stopped speaking. She quickly swiped them away. Luke had been one of the most sought after defense attorneys in New York City before relocating to Cincinnati.
Michael sucked in a long, noisy breath and released it slowly while Peyton wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“After eight excruciating months,” Michael continued, “I was sentenced to one year in prison, but Luke got the sentence reduced to no jail time, with two years of probation and community service. I haven’t had a drink, a smoke, or a fight since that night.”
Peyton didn’t know what to say. She knew Michael was no angel. He wore the confident, no fear, bad-boy vibe like a badge of honor, but this…
“Peyton, I have never put my hands on a woman to cause pain. While in school, I had plenty of fights. It was clear early on that I had a problem handling situations where girls were being harassed by punk-ass boys who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Carlton got me into therapy. It helped, but not a day goes by that I don’t fear that I might be wired like Lewis.”
So much made sense now. Michael’s apprehension about commitment, the no drinking, the way he hovered over her when they were out and about. He feared that he was like his forefathers, internalizing what they had done and now didn’t want to risk being like them.
Michael dropped back down into the chair. With the dimmed lights and her tired eyes, Peyton couldn’t completely make out his features.
She climbed out of the bed and quickly grabbed her short robe from her small travel bag before slipping into it. Padding barefoot over to Michael, her steps silent on the soft, plush carpet, she had no idea what to say. Instead of speaking, Peyton sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight and hoping he could feel how much she cared about him.
Michael’s arms went around her waist, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Her throat tightened, and goosebumps raked over her flesh. Peyton felt him. She felt the pain he relived from the situation with his father. She felt his anguish for accidentally killing a man, and she felt his relief in sharing his story.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that,” Peyton said close to his ear, fighting back tears. She couldn’t imagine growing up fearing that her father would beat her mother or siblings. No child or anyone for that matter should have to experience that. Hearing Michael’s story made her appreciate the Jenkins clan all the more.
Michael said nothing as they continued to hold each other. So many thoughts scurried through Peyton’s mind. She had completely fallen for him before hearing his story, and now she didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t. And that was a problem. He made it clear, more than once, that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. She got that, especially now that she better understood the reasons behind his fears. Still, that didn’t stop her from wondering where this relationship could go.
Peyton placed a kiss on the side of his head before pulling back slightly. She cupped his face and stared into his beautiful eyes. I love you was on the tip of her tongue, but she held back. She did love him. She wasn’t sure when it happened or if it was a romantic type of love. All she knew was that he made everything within her come alive. Her heart beat stronger because of him and how he made her feel.
“Michael, I…”
The lights flickered before everything went dark, except for the last of the burning embers in the fireplace. The soft background music was silenced, and Peyton no longer heard the furnace’s gentle whine.
“Shit.”
“Do you often get power outages?”
“It’s probably just the wiring. I’ve been doing some renovating and have been having some electrical problems.” Michael carried her to the bed and set her down. The room was pitched black, but Peyton heard him open a drawer near the bed and then there was light, a flashlight.
Peyton smiled when he flashed the light on her. “Good thing you know an electrician.”
“That’s right. I might be able to get some free labor out of you.”
Peyton fumbled around for her tennis shoes. “Nobody said anything about free. It’s after hours. My rates are tripled.”
Michael laughed. “Damn, woman. I could barely afford to pay an electrician straight time, hence, the reason I’m doing the work myself. Now you want triple pay?”
“Yep. It’s the middle of the night or morning depending on how you look at it. I should be sleeping, not rummaging around in the dark.
“Come on. Let’s see what’s going on. Maybe I can pay you in other ways.”
Peyton laughed when he shone the light on his face and wiggled his eyebrows. Holding her hand, he pointed the flashlight down to light their path on the stairs.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what type of electrical work have you done to cause a blackout? I assume this has happened before since you didn’t seem surprised when everything went dark.”
“I switched out the electrical panel, and you’re right, this has happened once before. I’m pretty sure I did it right, but I told myself that if the power went out again, I would hire a professional.”
“So that’s why you invited me over, huh?” she joked. Peyton was glad she was there. Granted they still needed to talk, but her feelings for him hadn’t changed. She cared more about him than she wanted to admit, especially since they hadn’t known each other long.
“Peyton, I know we should have talked, really talked, before making love. I guess I just didn’t want to relive that part of my life, but I needed you to know who you were dealing with. I needed you to know what type of person I am and why I avoid serious relationships. I’m still not sure if I can do this, do us.”
He set the large flashlight down, the light illuminating the ceiling of the basement providing enough light to see him better, as well as the small room they were standing in.
Michael wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his body and stared down into her face. “I care about you, but it’s too soon for me to know if I can give you what you want, what you deserve.”
Peyton nodded. She understood his reasons for holding back. “My feelings for you haven’t changed, Michael. I like you. A lot. Though I haven’t been the best judge of character when it comes to men, you don’t scare me.”
He gave a sputtered laughed. “Baby, I’m not trying to scare you.”
“What I mean is, I’m not afraid to be with you. In my heart, I know you won’t hurt me. I understand you have concerns, thinking that your father and grandfather being wife-beaters somehow spilled onto you. I get that, but you haven’t given me any reason to believe that you’re a detriment to my well-being.” He might have the ability to break her heart, but Peyton knew he would never raise a hand to hit her.
“That means a lot to me.”
“Besides, you once mentioned that other than Carlton, Luke knew you better than anyone. If t
hat’s the case, there is no way my brother-in-law would have allowed us to share a room in Jamaica. He believes in you and your character. So do I.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her lips.
“So is the black out and this secluded space down here all a part of your seduction plan for me?”
Michael laughed and released her. “I wish. Even I’m not this good, but if it’s working for you, then yes. This was all a part of my plan.”
Peyton shook her head and smiled. They were good together even if their individual insecurities were hanging over their heads.
“Alright, let’s see what we have here.” She opened the electrical panel, and the first thing she noticed was that none of the breakers were labeled. Then she pulled off the front cover and puffed out a breath. “Michael, what in the world…nothing in here is to code.”
“So, I guess that means I didn’t do it right.”
“Not only is it all wrong, but you’re also lucky you haven’t started a fire. And why aren’t any of the breakers labeled?”
“Haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea of how long this is going to take to straighten out? I have to determine what’s wired to what with the way this is set up. From now on, let’s agree that you won’t touch anything that involves electricity. And I guess it’s safe to say that you didn’t have this inspected because there’s no way an inspector would have signed off on this mess.”
Michael blew out a long breath and leaned against the wall next to the electrical panel. “Can you just get the lights on and fuss at me later?”
Peyton turned the flashlight on him, daring him to say something else. Returning her attention back to the panel, she shook her head. So often she saw hack jobs like what she was looking at now that were a fire waiting to happen.
“With a home this size, you might want to consider having a separate hundred-amp panel for the top floor.” She moved the flashlight, illuminating the area above the panel. “Whoever installed those new pipes up there should have considered moving them someplace else. If either of those pipes leak, you’re going to have a serious problem with water getting into this panel.”
Seducing the Boss Lady Page 13