"I thought your father died in a DUI car accident he caused," Peyton said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Brandon's fingers all but slammed down on the keyboard as he typed furiously away.
"He was on life support," the computer corrected. "Who do you think pulled the plug?"
Peyton clenched her teeth together before saying, "Isn't this the same accident that killed his mother?"
"There you go, justifying his behavior again," the computer said. Even though it was monotone, Peyton imagined there was a snarl to it. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"
"I'm sorry," Peyton said, standing. "I thought you were here to apologize for your behavior, not talk to me about Logan. I didn't realize how obsessed you were with him. But I'm not going to sit here and listen to you tell me all these bad things about him while taking no responsibility for yourself."
"Logan killed my dad," Brandon screamed as best as he could. He stood up as well, his eyes burning like the sun setting fire to the sky. "Maybe my dad was a piece of shit but that doesn't give him the right to play god."
"That's funny," Peyton said, flashing her eyes up at him. "It's like the pot calling the kettle black, right?"
Brandon clenched his teeth together and looked at her with fierce blue eyes. She tensed, ready for him to lunge, ready for him to do something. He did nothing, though. Just glared at her.
"You're a fool," Brandon said through a clenched jaw.
Peyton didn't respond. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to go now," she said. "This was a mistake."
"You will not go," Brandon said. "Not until you hear what I have to say."
"What could you possibly want me to hear?" she asked, throwing her arms out. "There's nothing you can tell me that would make me change my mind about Logan. I'm letting you know that now."
Before Peyton could prepare herself, Brandon leaped toward her. She hadn't noticed him stepping around the desk so nothing impeded him from grabbing her. His body collapsed on top of her and the minute she hit the ground, she started struggling against him. He was too strong, however. Despite his leanness, he was surprisingly solid, and it was easy for Brandon to grab her wrists and pin them above her head and mounting her waist like she was a mustang. He wanted to tame her, she realized.
"I'm going to enjoy breaking you," he told her. He sounded like gibberish, but somehow, Peyton heard him clearly. "I'm going to hurt you and laugh and then I'm going to hurt you some more. I'm going to take video and I'm going to send it to Logan and I'm going to keep doing it over and over again until I grow tired of it."
"Logan will come get me," Peyton told him.
"Oh, I'm counting on it," Brandon said.
Flecks of his saliva splashed onto her face and her entire body recoiled at the feel of it. She continued to struggle beneath him, despite the fact that he had her hands in a vice grip, despite the fact that he weighed heavily on her torso. She wouldn't let him do anything that could hurt her and she definitely didn't want Logan to find her this way, even though she tried using Logan as a fear tactic to get Brandon off of her. No surprise it didn't work. The problem was, if Logan saw her in this predicament, he might think she deserved what she got because she hadn't listened to him.
No, Logan isn't that type, a voice reminded her. You know better than that, Peyton. Yeah, he'll be mad and hurt and frustrated with your behavior but he would never think you deserve to be harmed in any way. He cares about you. Don't doubt that now.
"Why are you doing this?" Peyton asked. She could feel her face heat up due to the struggle against him. Her body was starting to get tired. She was starting to get tired.
"I thought it was obvious."
Peyton didn't know if it actually hurt him to talk through a jaw that was wired shut but Brandon looked like he was struggling as he attempted to enunciate each word properly. And then, an idea took hold of her. If she hurt his jaw, it might catch him off-guard and she would be able to escape. He hadn't locked the front gate and all she had to do was throw open his office door and run. All she needed to worry about was breaking free from Brandon.
"I'm going to hurt Logan," he said, oblivious to Peyton's thoughts. "I'm going to hurt him in the same way he hurt me. By taking away someone he loves."
Peyton's brows shot up. What the fuck was he talking about? Taking away someone Logan loved? She had come here so he could apologize, not to be a pawn in this game between brothers. She shouldn't have come here. She knew that now but she had been such a goddamn fool that she hadn't realized the sort of man Brandon was until she had already allowed herself to be swept in by her incessant need to make things right.
She was a fucking idiot, and if she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to be a dead idiot.
What Peyton needed to do was kick him in the jaw. She needed to get his head down towards her pelvis and then she needed to be able to get her legs free from his grasp so she would be able to hurt him in such a way where he couldn't recover as quickly as he might have been able to otherwise.
At that moment, her cell phone rang. Brandon's brows perked up and it wasn't long before he could detect her cell phone vibrating in her jacket pocket.
"Well, well, well," he murmured. "Who is this calling you? Probably lover boy, no doubt." He reached into her jacket pocket and Peyton cringed. The gesture was too intimate, it violated too much of her space. Her entire body tensed to the point where she stopped struggling just so she wouldn't have to feel his gesture completely.
After looking down at the caller id, Brandon's eyes sparkled. "It is," he said and without warning, swiped the screen so he could speak to Logan. "Hello? I'm sorry but Peyton isn't here right now" -
At that moment, Peyton started to scream. "Logan?" she called. "Call the cops. Brandon is trying to" - Before she could finish her sentence, Brandon slapped her across the face. That only deterred her for a moment before she started screaming again. "At Old Newport in his office. He says he wants to" -
"Shut up, you bitch!"
"Hurt me to hurt you or some kind of weird" -
Another slap. Peyton grunted even though she wanted to keep her mouth shut so she wouldn't scream.
"Brandon," Logan said. His voice was crisp and stoic and directly to the point. Peyton knew that voice. She recognized the danger it held. She knew what that voice meant. Judging by the curious look on Brandon's face, however, it didn't seem as though he understood the shit he was in with his older brother, and what Logan was capable of.
The fact that Logan was asking for his brother in a calm tone caused Brandon to be distracted. He sat back on Peyton's waist, releasing her hands and focusing his attention on the call. This was her chance. If she planned this right, Logan's call would be the perfect distraction to get her out of there.
"Yes?" he drawled as best as he could, placing the phone to his ear to make sure Logan could hear him as clearly as possible due to the fact that his words were coming out jumbled.
"You know I'm going to fucking kill you for this, right?" Logan said, his tone casual, as though they were discussing consequences for a fender bender, not for kidnapping and striking someone Logan cared about.
Peyton's heart stopped for a moment, her eyes going to the phone in Brandon's hand. There was a sudden chill in the air, a chill that was as cold as Logan's voice and as true as the promise he just made his brother. In that moment, Peyton knew Logan would kill for her if he needed to, if he felt the situation called for that kind of response. She knew, in that moment, that he would even kill his own brother, blood, the only person in his family that was still alive.
She needed to get out. She needed to get away from this as quickly as possible so Logan wouldn't have to do that on her behalf. She never wanted to make it this way in the first place.
This was all her fault. But she could make it better. She just needed to escape from this as quickly as she possibly could.
Brandon was laughing at Logan's words. He seemed to feed off pissing off his o
lder brother and therefore wasn't as focused on her as he had been before. In fact, Peyton actually seemed to have some wiggle room she could use to her advantage if she played it right. Her eyes went back to Brandon. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. In fact, he was looking at the phone, goading Logan with offensive comments about her in order to get a reaction from his brother. It was stupid, petty, and juvenile. It was also exactly what Peyton needed to get away from Brandon.
Peyton pressed her lips together and after a quick prayer, turned her hips sharply to the right, throwing Brandon off balance.
"What the" -
Before he could finish that sentence, Peyton sat up and punched Brandon in the throat, right in the Adam's apple. That did the trick. He toppled off Peyton like some pathetic domino and Peyton, using her remaining strength, grabbed the phone and stumbled to the door. Her hand was already in her pocket, and when she felt the familiar metal of her keys, felt herself relax, if only temporarily.
"Logan?" Peyton asked, as she ran.
At that moment, Brandon came from behind and knocked her down just in front of the open entrance gate. Peyton didn't even think. She turned so she was on her back and kicked out her right foot so it connected with Brandon's jaw. He screamed, like a beast is pain. It was an ugly sound, one Peyton wanted to get away from.
So she did.
Tightening her grip on her phone, she ran to her car and pulled out her keys. She nearly collapsed in the driver's seat but knew she needed to keep going. Once the car was started, she backed out of her spot, refusing to look at Brandon. She didn't want to know if he was okay. At this moment, she didn't particularly care. He was going to hurt her. He had said so himself. There was no reasoning with him. His apology was bullshit; he just wanted to get her there. She was at a second stoplight when she realized Logan was still on the phone.
"Hospital," she managed to get out.
Once she pulled up to the emergency room, she slipped into unconsciousness where blackness took her away.
Chapter 14
Peyton knew she was in the hospital when she flickered open her eyes. She could feel the needles pressed through her veins and taped to her skin, could feel the wires caressing her arms as they wrapped around the bed to the beeping machines behind her, could feel the material of the scratchy hospital gown on her flesh. Her head hurt and her mouth tasted dry and a little like blood.
She closed her eyes, furrowing her brows. She was actually in a lot of pain, thanks to Brandon. Peyton remembered every little detail of the entire night; how she went to visit Brandon at the jail, how he told her about how Logan allegedly pulled the plug on their abusive father, how Brandon was jealous of who Logan became and who Brandon became, how Brandon wanted to get back at him for so long, he just didn't know how. Peyton shook her head, not wanting to remember the blows he gave her body, how he ripped at her clothes and tried to push his greedy hand between her denim-clad pelvis and her very core. She squeezed her legs together and whimpered in pain.
"Sweetheart?"
Peyton's eyes snapped open, afraid the voice was just a dream, afraid he was going to disappear in the blink of an eye. But no, Logan was standing at the foot of his bed, dressed in his leather jacket and faded denim. His hair was slicked back, every black lock in place. His eyes were on her, sharp and worried. He wasn't even trying to hide his concern, though there was an edge to it.
When he held her eyes for a beat, he frowned. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous but insistent.
Peyton looked away and swallowed. "I just thought" -
"I already fucking know," he interrupted. He made sure to keep his voice down because the last thing they both needed right now was a noise complaint or anyone overhearing Logan's aggressive tone and thinking he was a bad guy. Because he wasn't. "You thought you could make things right between Brandon and me."
Peyton looked back at him. She pressed her lips together to keep any words from carelessly falling out of her mouth. The last thing they needed was a fight.
He's just worried, she reminded herself. He's just furious you're in the hospital, hurt.
"You're the dumbest intelligent person I know," he said, his tone droll. "You aren't fucking scotch tape, Peyton. You can't fix something that's been broken for years."
"I just thought" - she tried again but he stopped her.
"You thought wrong," he told her. "Brandon doesn't want to be fucking okay with me and I don't want to be fucking okay with Brandon. He's a little shit and I avoid him as much as I possibly can. When we went to Old Newport, it had been months since I last spoke to him. He's a fucking liar and when he saw me with you, he wanted to take what was mine and make you his. He didn't give a shit about you. He wanted to hurt me. And it fucking worked."
Peyton swallowed but didn't say anything. She continued to stare at Logan, to watch his shoulders hunch as he paced, to relax to his deep voice.
"How did you hear?" Peyton managed to get out. Her throat was dry, she realized. She needed water. Her eyes dropped from Logan, looking for a tray or a water jug.
"Karla called to tell me you went to Brandon on your own," he said. “So I called you to make sure she wasn’t fucking with me, and when he answered, that was all the confirmation I needed.” He furrowed his brows as he watched Peyton look around. As though he could read her mind, he found the jug of water and the small plastic cup before pouring her a glass. She downed the water after shooting him a grateful smile.
"Fucking, easy," he said, nodding his head at the now-empty cup. "Don't overdo it."
Peyton nodded but her lips were curved up. He was worried about her, she knew, and that made her insides melt into caramel. It made her feel worthy and cared for and special. Logan was not the sort of man to care about a lot of people. He didn't even care about his own brother. But he cared about her. That much was clear. And that made Peyton feel like she had wings, like she could fly as close to the sun if she wanted to without consequences.
"Brandon is a piece of shit," Logan told her after a long moment. "I'm sure you never had to fucking realize that sometimes family is what you choose, not what you're fucking born with. You have a brother, right?"
Peyton nodded her head.
"The only reason he's not here is because he probably didn't know you're here," Logan told her. "After Karla told me - smirking and everything - I got here as fucking fast as I could. I just didn't know who else to call."
Peyton nodded. "You don't owe me an explanation," she told him.
"I don't," he said, "but you..." He let his voice trail off, shaking his head as he began to pace once more. "I know why but I don't fucking understand why you just didn't take my fucking word" -
"Were you worried he was going to tell me what an asshole you are?" Peyton asked, furrowing her brow. "We're going worried he was going to tell me how you were as a kid and how shitty you treated him and the completely frightening and abusive relationship your dad had with your mom and you? Did you not want me to learn all of these things about you?" Peyton dropped her eyes to her hands. "Brandon told me everything, Logan. He made sure to let me know that you're the worst of the worst. He told me what you did to your father." Logan stiffened but his face gave nothing away. "I told him I didn't care."
"What?" Logan asked, his tone crisp.
"I told him I didn't care," Peyton repeated.
"I fucking got that," Logan muttered, stepping to the foot of the bed. "You're going to have to backtrack. He told you fucking everything and you don't care?" Now, Logan looked confused, which made him look endearing. "Did you fucking think he was exaggerating?"
"No." Peyton shook her head and she winced. "I knew he wasn't lying."
"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head.
"I love you, Logan," Peyton told him, unafraid of saying the words. Unafraid of him hearing them. "I don't care what you did in your past."
"I'm a fucking goddamn monster," he said, his voice low.
; "You aren't ashamed of it," Peyton said with a sneer, "so stop pretending you are now."
"You think I regret what I did to that piece of shit excuse for a father?" Logan asked, furrowing his brow. He didn't look angry that she would assume such a thing, more like frustrated that he had to explain this to her. "I don't. I pulled the plug and I would do it again in a heartbeat. That sack of shit didn't deserve to draw breath."
Peyton nodded once. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes watery but not because of tears. She was sad. She was intent on not only listening to what he had to say but on hearing him, on taking him in. She didn't want to ask questions, didn't want to interrupt in fear that he would clam up or realize what he was doing and then stop.
"I'm a goddamn monster, Peyton, because of the things I could - and will - do to Brandon once I know you're okay," he told her. His eyes were a gold color, intense and penetrating. Not only was he serious about what he was saying, he meant what he was saying on top of everything else. "You are mine, you see. I've never fucking had something that's been mine before. But I know that I'm not going to fucking let it stand, what he did to you. People need to realize that you're fucking off-limits. Not even my fucking brother can do what he did to you."
"Logan," Peyton murmured. He sounded as though he was talking more to himself than to her and she hoped the sound of his name, the sound of her voice, would bring him back to the present. He needed to focus on now, not what happened. She let it go. Actually, truth be told, she had yet to analyze what had happened to her. She hadn't had a moment alone, and that was something she was grateful for. She was surprised Logan was here in the first place, but he had waited for her to wake up. He was here, and though he didn't show it, he was grateful she was relatively unharmed.
Peyton was starting to learn a lot about Logan Jeffrey. One of those things was that for the amount the guy liked to talk and regardless of how charming he could be, Logan wasn't very good at expressing himself. He definitely wasn't a romantic and he didn't seem to know the right thing to say. He was honest, however, direct and to the point, which Peyton could respect, even if it wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. At least she knew he would never bullshit her.
A Reputation Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 2) Page 20