Breaking Brent Part 11

"Where are you going? Murphy! Where the h.e.l.l is she going?" Peyton's foot had taken the first step before Kathleen's nails dug into her shoulder and spun her around. "I asked you a question? Where the f.u.c.k do you think you're going? This is my house. Mine! You have no right to walk in here and act like it's yours."

"Kathleen, I think you need to just calm down and take a step back. I'm going upstairs to get Lucas and then I'll be out of here." Peyton took a deep breath and her thoughts were confirmed-Kathleen was drunk. Miserably, disgustingly and rottenly drunk.

"The h.e.l.l you will. That is my son. Mine. He's not yours. He's mine. You and my f.u.c.king sister need to remember that. He's mine." Peyton had no idea what Kathleen's sister had to do with this conversation, nor did she care. All she cared about was getting her nephew and getting him the h.e.l.l away from his s...o...b..ry-a.s.sed mother.

Peyton turned once more and tried to take the stairs again. Once more Kathleen stopped her. She turned to tell Kathleen to remove her hands and her nails from her body, but never got the chance. As soon as she faced Kathleen a hard palm slammed against the side of her face and slid down.

66.

The pain didn't shock Peyton. She had grown up with a house full of boys and had played rough once or twice in her life, but the sting that remained did disturb her.

Peyton brought her hand to her cheek and saw red when she removed it. Not red with rage or hate, but red with blood. Kathleen had not only slapped her-she had raked her overly long, overly manicured nails down her face in the end. Peyton no longer wondered what had had happened to Murphy's face and to his chest. She also a.s.sumed Kathleen was the reason the living room and their possessions were in the state they were in.

In a split second, the James temper that Peyton had flowing through her veins came to the surface fully loaded and ready to be unleashed. She heard her brother Murphy's words, but they seemed far off, garbled and mumbled. All she heard was Kathleen's laugh and all she saw was the havoc she had wreaked.

All she felt was the pain the woman had inflicted.

Peyton's fist clenched by her side and Murphy issued his warning once more.

"Peyton, don't." But it was too late. Peyton threw her punch and it landed Kathleen full on. At any other time, Kathleen would have simply bent under the force, but in her drunken state she fell to the floor with her head and back taking the most of the impact.

Before Kathleen could move, Peyton was on top of her. Kathleen was a bit taller and outweighed Peyton by a few pounds, but she couldn't do anything to unsettle Peyton's body from the top of hers.

She flung out her arms and nails and tried to catch Peyton's other cheek, her hair, anything, but Peyton could fight dirty when the circ.u.mstances called for it. This circ.u.mstance called for it.

Grabbing Kathleen's hands, Peyton forced them to the floor. Peyton settled all of her weight and her anger onto Kathleen's chest and moved her face inches away from her sister-in-law's cussing and screaming form.

"Get this straight, Kathleen, you've only got once to do it. If you ever hit, try to hit or even think about hitting my brother again, I will find out about it. When I find out, I will come back here and rip every last one of those d.a.m.ned false f.u.c.king nails you pay so much for from your fingers." Peyton was serious.

She had never been more serious in her entire life. Kathleen must not have thought she was because she started to laugh.

"Look at you. All mad. It's cute. If your brother were more of a man he wouldn't have to have his sister fight his battles for him." Kathleen's body bucked beneath Peyton, but there was no unsettling her.

"It's because my brother is more of a man that I'm doing this. He would never hit you, Kathleen, no matter what you say or do, but I would. I will if I ever see, hear or think you've pulled this s.h.i.t again."

Peyton started to release Kathleen's arms and go about her business of collecting Lucas and his things, but she was stopped. Kathleen stopped her. Peyton had released Kathleen's hands for the briefest of seconds but it was enough for her to get one more lick in. The second slap to Peyton's face didn't hurt, it only made her temper go beyond the point of no return.

67.

"Who the f.u.c.k do you think you are talking to me that way?"

Peyton let her temper get the better of her. One minute she had Kathleen's arms and the next her hands were clutching the stupid robe the woman was barely wearing as she pulled her back off the floor.

When Peyton had her where she wanted her, she let Kathleen have the answer to her question.

With all her strength, her might and her love for her brother, Peyton reared back and sent her fist flying. It connected with Kathleen's face with a smack that echoed through the once-immaculate living room. Kathleen was done.

Peyton pushed herself to her feet and watched as Kathleen rolled to her side, clutched her face and rocked her body. When she was at her full height, she saw Kathleen peek up at her from behind her hands.

"I'm Peyton James, b.i.t.c.h." Peyton shook her head at her mess of a sister-in-law lying curled in a ball on the floor. She shook the sting from her fist and then looked at her brother.

He looked tired. He looked defeated. He looked like death chewing on a cracker. Peyton stopped her thoughts from rolling out of her mouth and simply asked, "Is Lucas upstairs?"

Murphy nodded as he continued to stare at his wife. Peyton said nothing else as she ran up the length of the staircase and into Lucas's room. The little blond-headed boy who looked just like his daddy sat in a miniature rocking chair with his favorite stuffed animal clutched to his chest.

Peyton shut the door and shut out the outside world. She walked slowly to him and fell to her knees.

They were face to face-eye to eye. What she saw staring at her made her heart hurt and her eyes well up with tears she couldn't shed.

Lucas's little body was shaking slightly and his face was streaked with new and old tears. Peyton didn't think, she just acted. She opened her arms and surrounded Lucas as he flew into them.

"Come on, buddy. You're coming home with me." He didn't speak, but Peyton felt his head bob beneath her chin. She stood, taking Lucas and his threadbare animal with her. There was no need to pack a bag-he had plenty of clothes at her house.

All Peyton thought about was getting the boy out of the house and away from his mother. Peyton kept his eyes sheltered as she descended the stairs and was glad to see that only Murphy was there.

As she pa.s.sed him, he reached out and ran his hands through Lucas's hair and then ran ahead of Peyton to open the door. She walked through the doorway with steadier legs than she should have had, but she made it.

"Thanks, Peyton. I'll come by tomorrow and check on him." She nodded and carried Lucas farther away. When he was buckled into the booster seat she kept in the back of her car he finally spoke.

"Is my mommy mad?"

Peyton swallowed the knot she had in her throat and answered him. "No, baby. Your mommy's not mad." She kissed his forehead and swept the hair from his eyes before closing the door and walking toward 68 her own door. A little white lie never hurt, but the truth could do some serious damage. The truth was Kathleen wasn't just mad, she was the craziest b.i.t.c.h Millbrook had ever seen.

69.

Chapter Ten.

After three hours of battling with the most stubborn two-year-old mare he'd ever encountered, Brent decided to take a break. Letting the mare run, buck and show her temper in the round pen would hopefully calm her down and wear out her spirits a bit. Then she and he could have a nice long talk about her behavior. He climbed the fence and hopped over, landing soundly on the other side.

The sun was beating down on his back and he wished he could rid his body of the sweat-soaked shirt, but he knew better. The b.i.t.c.h had turned on him twice, trying to take a piece of the flesh from his shoulder.

The more between her mouth and his skin the better. There was also the other reason he kept the shirt on.

The twin lines of scratches down his back were a tale-tale sign of the time he'd spent with Peyton in the barn. Somehow or another her fingers had worked their way under his shirt and scratched him as he'd driven into her. Or maybe she had marked him through his clothing. Who knew? He just wanted the proof of his tryst to stay between him and Peyton-and Nick. d.a.m.nit.

Speaking of his brothers, there they were, all three of them, sitting side-by-side on the front porch, legs anch.o.r.ed across the railing, rocking back and forth with the wind. All three of them were watching, a.n.a.lyzing and throwing suggestions between them and to him while he wrestled in the pen with a mare he didn't even want to take on. Chase wanted her. Wanted her for Willa. They were off on their honeymoon and Brent was stuck here fighting a losing battle with his brother's wife's h.e.l.l b.i.t.c.h.

"I think you've met your match with that one," Hayden said, tipping his hat and covering his laughing eyes.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Brent thought.

"Maybe if you give her a little time she'll come around. I don't see why we have to start today," Nick stated as he rocked away.

"Tomorrow might be better. Maybe after a good night's sleep you can handle her." Jason's mocking voice reached Brent's ears just as he reached the porch and took a seat on the top step. Leaning back, he rested his upper body on his arms and stretched his legs out, letting the tense muscles relax under the denim.

"I can handle her today." Pulling the leather gloves from his hands with his teeth one finger at a time gave him a second to think.

To think about how to handle the mare.

To think about how to handle Peyton.

To think about what strategy would be best for breaking the mare.

And for breaking Peyton.

His body should be sated, eased, exhausted, but it wasn't. It was running on all cylinders. This morning he thought that he had worked her out of his system for awhile-he was wrong. She was still there, the scent of her, the feel of her body, the knowledge of what she sounded like when she came. Nope, she was definitely still in his system. Cussing and throwing the work-worn gloves aside did not improve his mood.

"Speaking of handling," Jason said, rising from his rocker and taking a seat beside Brent. "Did you happen to notice Anna McCready at the wedding?"

Shaking his head, Brent knocked the dust from his pants leg and watched it catch the breeze and fly away. He didn't notice anybody at the wedding, except for Peyton. Only Peyton.

"How could you not? d.a.m.n. She grew up in a hurry. College is doing her body good."

Brent wasn't worried about what college was or was not doing for Anna McCready's body. "Stay away from that. Her daddy's a good man and he doesn't need you sniffing around his baby girl or any of his girls for that matter. It will only cause problems. How do you know it was Anna anyway?" It was a logical question. Anna McCready was part of a pair-a pair of twins. Identical twins.

"Believe me, I can tell. Besides, Anna McCready is not on my radar. I just know a good-looking woman when I see one, and she and her sister both fall into that category. Beautifully. All them d.a.m.n McCreadys do." Laughing and punching Brent's arm playfully, Jason changed the subject. "So, where'd you get off to last night? We were planning on heading into town for a drink but we couldn't find you."

"Just drove around, not that it's any of your business." Picking the discarded gloves back up, Brent went about the task of putting them back on and getting back to work.

"Until five this morning?"

Brent only nodded his head and pulled himself to his feet. Maybe Jason would take the hint and leave the subject alone.

"I'm not buying it."

He had driven around-for hours. Trying his best to work everything out in his mind. By the wee hours of the morning he had come up with plenty of reasons for him to stay away from Peyton, but none of them were good enough for his mind or his body. He wanted her, pure and simple, and he would get what he wanted.

Brent could have responded to Jason's meddling. He had a smart-a.s.s comment all lined up, but fate intervened. In the form of one Jocelyn Reece.

"s.h.i.t," Jason muttered to the dirt at his feet. "I thought she went home. What the h.e.l.l is she doing back here?" Watching Jocelyn drive up the dirt road toward the house was like watching a tornado weave its path. If it were possible, she drove worse than Jason did. Just like a bat out of h.e.l.l.

71.

Jocelyn, and all of her dust and glory, flew past them, waved a bit and nestled her jeep in between Brent's and Hayden's trucks. It was a tight fit, but considering Jocelyn had done away with the doors of her jeep at the beginning of the summer, she just climbed out. With her came three suitcases and an overnight bag and a few other articles Brent couldn't identify.

"What the h.e.l.l?" the question came from Jason as he stood to take a place next to Brent.

"h.e.l.lo there, boys. Long time no see." Smiling as she drew nearer lugging the cases behind her brought a thousand questions to Brent's mind. Those questions came out of Jason's mouth.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here? And why the h.e.l.l do you have luggage?" Jabbing a finger through the air in the direction of Jocelyn's luggage stopped her steps two feet away from them and the house.

"I need clothes, don't I?"

"For what?" Jason put the most menacing look on his face he could find and then placed his hands on his hips for an added intimidating affect.

"Well, I'm staying here and I like clean clothes." She picked the cases back up and walked toward the front porch.

"The h.e.l.l you're not." Jason blocked her path with his body.

"The h.e.l.l I am." Jocelyn countered dropping the bags, rather heavily, on one of Jason's booted feet.

Cussing and b.i.t.c.hing, he stepped away from her.

"What's going on, Jocelyn? We thought you went back to your daddy's last night after the wedding."

Brent spoke over Jason's hissy fit.

"I did. This morning I decided that I was fed up with being treated like a child when I am far from it, so I moved out. I'm declaring my independence. Will you help me with these?"

"That still doesn't explain why you're here, kid."

Brent winced and rubbed a hand over his face as Jason spoke. He was looking for a fight and he knew he would get one from Jocelyn.

"It seems that my daddy doesn't think I am old enough to have a house all to myself, and I can't take another minute of his bull-headed ways, so I left. It was your mama who suggested that I stay here until Daddy comes to his senses and realizes I am not a kid." She threw the word Jason's way and he looked fit to be tied because of it. It didn't help that when she spoke she batted her eyelashes at him, making his fury mount.

"You can't stay here," Jason interjected as he looked to each of his brothers to back him up.