Page 36 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

"I just want to know why," Peyton said, ignoring Logan's question. "Why treat me different if the ending is the same? Why take me here? Why grab me from the party? Why care if you don't? Why get involved?"

"Because you are different," he said as though it was obvious, as though she was stupid for not figuring it out herself. "How do you not understand this? You're fucking different."

Peyton pressed her lips together to keep the retort dancing on her lips, wanting to shoot out and slap him across the face. She couldn't help the scoff from getting out though and she didn't hide the look of annoyed disbelief on her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she shifted in her seat to bringher stretched leg into a bend, her foot still next to her crotch, so she could rest her head on her knee. She was starting to get tired and with the rain coming down, she wanted to be curled in bed, under the covers, trying to forget everything about this night.

"You don't believe me?" he growled, somewhat surprised that she didn't. She picked up her head to look at him, staring him down with a challenge. He wrinkled his brow and leaned towards her. "You think I fucking treat anyone the way I treat you? You think I go to stupid fucking frat parties and bring women to my fucking place so they can sleep off their hangovers? You think I fucking talk to my brother or ask him for a goddamn favor?"

"It's not a favor if you pay him back," she retorted under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"I don’t need your fucking sass right now," he snapped.

"Yeah, well if you didn't want to be with me, if you were going to toss me around like I'm nothing, you should have told me up front," she told him. She didn't know why her voice was shrill. It was as though she was yelling over the rain and it didn't quite work. "I don't just kiss anybody, Logan. And yeah, maybe a kiss is just a kiss. And maybe I kissed you that first time to catch you off-guard but everything is different now because - because I like kissing you. Jesus, I like kissing you. And I thought..." She shook her head. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"You were the one who pulled away," Logan pointed out, his eyes a golden flame, a light at the end of a dark tunnel. She didn't know if she should follow it or avoid it but, at the moment, she couldn't look away from it. "You were the one who barely even looked at me after we stopped."

"We stopped because your brother walked in on us," Peyton said, her voice tight and defensive. "Or was that part of the plan?"

Logan narrowed his eyes and was silent for a long moment. His eyes never left hers but he was searching for something in her irises, something she didn't know and wasn't sure she wanted to give him. From the corner of her eye, she watched as his jaw ticked with pressure like a wall clock.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He made sure to enunciate every word slowly but she had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with her being stupid. Rather, he wanted to ensure he was in control of himself. Judging by the way his grip tightened on the gear shift - so tight that his knuckles were white - that he was having a difficult time doing so.

Peyton snorted, shaking her head and cutting her eyes so they looked out her window rather than at him. "Don't pretend like you don't know," she said, a sardonic smile on her face that lacked all the mirth it should have possessed.

"Do you think if I knew," he said slowly, and Peyton could tell he was trying desperately to control himself, "I would fucking ask you? Tell me what you're talking about." And then, in a gentle voice so soft Peyton wasn't sure she actually heard it or if she imagined it, he said, "Please."

It was like he knew the word worked on her but he only employed it when he was desperate. And right now, he was desperate. She slowly turned her head so she could meet his eyes. In that one glance, she could see past the frustration and anger and annoyance to the vulnerable Logan Jeffrey he probably didn't even realize he was revealing. Or maybe he did. Maybe he allowed her to see this side of him because he wanted to know what happened that badly that he was willing to actually show her a - not softer side, exactly - more subtle side of him.

"I don't know what you're fucking talking about," he continued when he recognized he might actually have a chance to hear what she had to say. His eyes got a hopeful gleam in them upon that realization, and that hope was what did her in. Because Logan employed rationality more so than hope. In fact, Peyton didn't think Logan saw hope as more than faith marketing. Useless and unable to get what he wanted.

She believed him, she realized.

Peyton blinked and took in a breath. If Logan had no idea what she was talking about, then that meant Brandon was a goddamn liar and attacked her under the pretense that Logan was okay with it. Without warning, tears sprang into her eyes and she started crying. It happened so fast, Peyton had no control over her actions. She thought she saw Logan flinch at her sudden shift in demeanor and she couldn't help but understand why that was. She had been angry and dismissive of him and now she was crying. That sounded pretty crazy, she wasn't going to lie.

"Sweetheart?" he asked tentatively.

Peyton was actually surprised he had enough restraint to stay there and take her tears, take her sudden attitude shift, without making a smartass retort, without telling her to stop, without getting away from her as quickly as he could. He didn't touch her, not yet, and that was okay. Peyton didn't know if she wanted to be touched. But he stayed there, his eyes on her, wide and confused, like a deer caught in headlights, like he had never dealt with a crying woman before and wasn't sure how to respond. She could take that as a compliment, she supposed. She was positive his other women hadn't cried in front of him before. She doubted he would have put up with that. But he was still here, waiting for some kind of lifeline she could give him, waiting for her to tell him what to do because he had no idea.

But he wanted to help. And that meant something.

Peyton swallowed, rubbing her tears with the back of her hands.

"Your brother tried to feel me up at the jail after you left," she murmured. She made sure to look at him. She thought it was important that he knew the truth about Brandon if he didn't already. And she forced herself to do it because she didn't want to be afraid to speak the truth or ashamed for something she didn't do.

Logan clenched his jaw and blinked once. "What?" His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes cracked bronze.

"He said you pass women between the two of you," she continued. Her voice was tight, trying to control the mouse in her head trying to make its way to her mouth. "And that you brought me here because you were over me and decided it was his turn."

Logan's eyes narrowed. He clenched his jaw so tightly she didn't know how it didn't come off its hinges. Without warning, he turned his attention back to the wheel and put the gear back in drive.

"Tell me everything," he commanded as he spun the car back to the main road. Peyton's heart leaped in her throat, afraid he was going to lose his grip and the car would spin out of control on the slick streets. However, his tone left no room for argument.

"I told you," she said, righting herself and praying they returned to her dorm room safely. She had never seen Logan so out of control before and it scared her because now he was acting recklessly. And she couldn't understand why. "He told me that stuff and then tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn't into it. He tried again and I kneed him in the crotch."

The corner of Logan's lips turned up but it lasted less than a moment. He glanced at her for a moment and she saw the pride glimmer in his eyes like a lone candle dancing in the dark to a breeze.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me when I asked?" Logan asked. He twisted his hand on the wheel, his knuckles white. "You weren't going to tell me at all." He pulled into a parking stall a few feet away from the entrance of student housing and looked at her, waiting for an answer. "Did you believe him?"

The question lingered between them like tension clinging to their shoulders the way gargoyles clung to the edge of a roof, deciding whether or not they should stay as stone or if they should break from their prison and fly.