Page 20 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

"Peyton isn't bad to look at," Rikki said, after swallowing another sip, "she's just not his type. He likes more experienced girls. Not angels."

Without thinking, Peyton took a long sip of her drink. Her throat burned and tears blurred her vision because of how strong the drink was, but she didn't care. She would show Rikki just how angelic she could be.

* * *

Peyton hated drinking. Before tonight, she had only gotten drunk once before during her freshman year of college. She had a crush on one of the basketball players and had been to the majority of their games, including the away games. They had invited her to their after-season party and she ended up being an idiot, mixing beer with liquor, and getting completely drunk to the point where she started throwing up at the party. Before then, however, her crush took her upstairs and started making out with her, expecting it to go further than just that. Luckily, Peyton was still able to say no and the guy left her by herself.

The next day, while Peyton suffered through her hangover, she promised herself that she would never get that bad again.

Until tonight.

Peyton was on her third ruby and couldn't walk right. Chuck hung onto her like a shadow and wouldn't get away from her no matter how much she tried. He wasn't that bad so she didn't think much of it until he took her upstairs. She didn't really have any idea what was going on. She was just going through the motions and it felt good to just let loose. She danced on tables with Rikki and it was nice to see Rikki smile. The only problem was, Rikki saw this as the perfect opportunity to start complaining about Logan which inspired Peyton to drink even more because she really didn't want to hear about Logan tonight.

"I'm not having sex with you," Peyton mumbled, her head light and bubbly, fizzing like a soda can.

Chuck looked down at her and gave her a soft smile, curling an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I know," he told her. The door was closed but there wasn't light; instead, shadows crossed over the lone bed in the middle of the room, the only piece of furniture present. The clouds were dark and grey, as though rain could spill from them at any moment, making the space more foreboding than it really was. Or maybe that was just Peyton's drunken stupor that was causing him to think this way.

"It's your first time," he continued. His breath was in her face and it smelled like the strong scent of alcohol. Peyton's stomach twisted in silent protest. "You want it special. I can make it special for you. I promise."

His words took a moment to sink into Peyton, which gave Chuck time to bend his head down and kissed her neck. Something in her churned and she wasn't sure if it was because of what he said or the fact that he was invading her space with his mouth.

"No, no." She shook her head and tried to push him off of her but he was too strong and too solid. The alcohol wasn't affecting him the same way it was affecting her, making him impossible to move. "I said no."

"I know," Chuck said, "and that's what we can tell everyone. You said no."

Peyton shook her head. He wasn't understanding what he was saying. He didn't realize she was being serious. Her heart started to flutter and her stomach twisted even more. Fear shot through her. Was she going to get raped? Where the hell was Rikki? Why had Peyton consumed so much alcohol? Because of Logan Jeffrey? So not worth it.

God, she was so stupid. So goddamn stupid.

"No," she said, shaking her head. That did a number on her only because her head was already buzzing and moving it in any capacity blurred her vision and caused her nausea to double. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this? What was she going to do? "No, no, no."

Chuck didn't even respond to her. Instead, he straddled her waist and leaned over to start kissing her neck. His fingers, soft and warm, started playing with one of the straps of her dress. She reached up to try and push him off but he always took her wrists in his hands and pushed them away, like they were little annoyances easily swatted away. However, the fact that she continued her ministrations, the fact that she didn't just stop caused Chuck to misjudge his grip on the strap, and without warning, he snapped the flimsy scrap of material so it ripped.

"Oh, crap," he said, giving Peyton a look with his slate-blue eyes. "Look what you made me do."

"Well, maybe if you stopped like I told you, you wouldn't have ripped my fucking dress!" Peyton had no idea why she was yelling. She had no idea why she was suddenly enraged. She could feel the heat get to her face and she was absolutely positive that her face was beet red.

At that moment, the door was kicked in, the wood crunching under the sturdy boot of whoever it was that had knocked it in. Peyton's gaze was blurry but she blinked once, twice, until she made out a tall, domineering figure that looked vaguely familiar but entirely out of place. She could make out her black hair, a black jacket, and fury on his chiseled face.

"Excuse my fucking French, you piece of shit, but I was under the impression that no meant no in every fucking language." That gravelly voice, like sandpaper over sharp rocks. Peyton blinked, still not fully believing that Logan Jeffrey was standing in a fraternity house. Why was he here? How did he know to find her? "If you don't get off of her now, I will smash your face in."

"I could fire you," Chuck said, but his voice quivered and he got off of her without hesitation.

"Did you just fucking threaten me?" Logan asked, placing his hands on his hips. It was hard for Peyton to see straight but she could see the anger in his tawny gaze and she was grateful that he wasn't employing that look at her. She never wanted him to look at her that way. "You know, not only do I having fucking tenure, I was preventing you from committing fucking rape. Are they really going to believe a low life piece of shit frat boy over a distinguished professor?" He raised his eyebrow. "Get the fuck out before I decide to break you."

Chuck looked like he wanted to argue. However, he thought better of it and scrambled off, leaving Peyton alone with Logan. He turned to her, clenching his jaw. His eyes found hers and they were mixed with annoyance, a little sprinkle of anger, but more than anything, disappointment.

"You're fucking better than this," he said, his voice so low Peyton felt a prickle of fear to creep up in the back of her head. She changed her mind about the way Logan had glared at Chuck. She would rather take that look over this solemn look of disappointment any day. He shifted his feet. "Can you walk?"

Peyton nodded. She blinked once more, trying to get a hold of her senses. Her head was still spinning but she pushed herself into a sitting position and forced herself to stand. Immediately she lost balance and stumbled forward. If Logan hadn't caught her, she would have fallen face-first into the grey carpet beneath her feet.

His arms wrapped around her frame, steadying her with gentle prodding. She was surprised how warm they were as he wrapped his arm around her waist, and before Peyton could think too much about it, she felt herself start to relax against his touch. Her forehead hit his arm and her eyes slipped close. He was nice and warm and comfortable, and it wasn't long before she felt slumber's unrelenting grip tug on her consciousness.

"Oh, shit."

His voice seemed far away, which was odd since his mouth was close to her ear.

Before she realized what was happening, he swooped her up in his arms, like she was his bride, and started heading out of the room. He didn't seem to care that people would see him leave with her; he didn't even seem to care that he was here in the first place. Without meaning to, Peyton found the perfect place for her head - right under his arm - and quickly fell into a heavy sleep.