Page 33 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

twenty-five

W e have a court date set.

It’s getting real now. Even visiting the house, I never truly felt like it was mine. I don’t know if I ever will.

I feel so alien about it all. Like I’m some intruder stepping into a family I’ve never belonged to.

Yet, I also feel this deep need to get to know more about where my father came from.

Once all is said and done, I want to go explore the place more.

Talk to the staff and see if anyone knew my parents.

Find the connection that was so abruptly severed when I was only a child.

Maybe then I will feel like I’ve finally found myself. Then I can stop trying so hard to prove myself to a world that doesn’t care if I live or die.

I need therapy.

When I was younger, the state ordered me to go to therapy for six months. I remember the kind lady. She asked me all sorts of things about my parents and the feelings I was experiencing. She helped me through the worst of it.

Then they ripped her away from me too. They felt I had gotten better and no longer needed to spend state money on her.

It left me back at square one with no one to trust.

A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts. When I open it, I find Beckett on the other side with my favorite coffee in his hand. He holds it out for me, so I take it, walking into the room to set it on my desk.

“I came as soon as I saw your text. What’s going on?” he asks, closing the door behind him.

I didn’t mean to make him drop everything to come over here, but I have to admit it feels good not being alone right now.

“Don’t you have class?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Missing one won’t kill me. What’s wrong? What happened?” He steps closer to me, grabbing my hands.

“We have a court date. It’s next week,” I tell him.

He squeezes my hands. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. Stressed. Scared. Sad.”

He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my back.

“Your feelings are valid. Feel whatever you need to in order to process this. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

My eyes tear up at his declaration. This man is so fucking good to me. Too good if we are being honest. Why is he still here with me?

“Nothing good in my life ever stays,” I admit softly. “What if this is another cruel joke life is throwing my way to break me down?”

“What if this is everything you ever dreamed of? We can sit and play the “what-ifs” game all night, but it isn’t going to help anything. I have faith that everything is going to work out and if it doesn’t? I’m still right here with you.”

I swallow the emotion threatening to burst out of me. It’s what I’ve always wanted. To have someone at my side. Someone to share the load with.

I was always too scared to reach for it, though.

Moving me to the bed, Beckett kicks off his shoes before climbing into it. Then he pats the space next to him for me. I slide into bed next to him, letting my head rest on his chest over his heart. Hearing it thump helps calm me.

He runs his fingers up and down my back as he speaks. “Tell me what you remember about them.”

My breath catches at his question.

“You know what’s weird? Until recently, I didn’t remember anything about them besides the fact they loved each other and me, but lately things have been coming back to me.”

“Like what?”

I haven’t spoken about my parents in a really long time. No one has ever been in my life who have really cared. Not until the friend group I have now. By that point, I didn’t want to talk about them.

This whole court case has those old memories surfacing. All the feelings from their deaths being put at the forefront of my mind.

“My mom smelled of lavender. I was only five when they died, but I remember how she would put the same lavender perfume on every day. It was some knock-off brand, but still to this day when I smell lavender, I can almost feel her arms around me. That’s crazy, right?”

“The human mind is a wonderful yet mysterious thing. I can’t remember most of my childhood, but when I have a snickerdoodle cookie, I still remember the housekeeper making them with me when I was nine after my parents didn’t make it home for Christmas.

She doesn’t even work for us anymore, but I still remember how she took that shitty day and made it great again. It doesn’t have to make sense.”

The feel of his hands caressing my skin has me wanting to tell him more.

“My dad worked all the time, but every night he would come home and have dinner with us. After dinner, he would always let me climb all over him like a jungle gym before he put me to bed himself. He always said it was our time.”

“Sounds like he was a great father.”

“The best. I didn’t realize it then, but when I was old enough, I did some research on him. He worked a factory job. One of his old coworkers told me that he would always take on extra shifts. I think he did that to take care of us. Even working his hands to the bone, he made time for us.”

“You were his priority.”

“I was. Mom was too. Between the two of them, my first five years were filled with love and happiness. I still remember the night they died. Mom was getting ready as I watched her. I begged them to take me with them. She said it was a date night for them, and I had to stay home. For many years, I had wished I could go back and go with them. Not because I thought I could stop anything, but because I would be gone too. It would take this pain away.”

He freezes a moment before squeezing me. “I’m really glad you weren’t with them. I don’t know what I would have done if you had never come into my life.”

I snort. “You would have found someone to occupy your time. You wouldn’t have even known I existed.”

“You’re right. I would have found someone, maybe, but my life would be on a different path. You changed my life, Peyton.”

“I forced you to marry me.”

He pulls back, cupping my face. “No, you didn’t.

I forced you to marry me. It was my idea.

I wanted it, and I don’t regret it for a second.

You don’t understand, Peyton. Even if we divorce and you go on to live your life without me in it, I would always think of you fondly.

You would be the one who I would always come back and get, no matter how we end.

You made an impact on me. Don’t think you are any less than you are, Pey. You’re fucking amazing.”

I sniffle. “You’re going to make me cry.”

He smiles. “Good. It means it’s sinking in. You aren’t insignificant. If you disappeared, you would be missed by more than just me. You make a difference.”

The tears start to fall as I lean up and kiss him softly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s my pleasure. Now tell me some of the memories you have.”

So I do. I spend the next several hours telling him all about the memories of my childhood. At some point it changes from my parents to my time in foster care.

I talk until my throat is raw. I keep talking until my eyes fall closed.

As I drift off to sleep, I feel lighter than I have ever felt in my life.

My cock is throbbing as I awake. Blinking, I realize I’m still in Peyton’s room. She pushes her hips back against me, moaning in her sleep.

“Peyton,” I whisper into her ear, my hand sliding across her bare stomach. I’ve never been happier she sleeps in tiny tank tops and shorts.

When she doesn’t answer me, I thrust into her ass as I let my hand dip below the waistband of her shorts. When I touch her pussy, she pushes back into me once more.

She’s hot and wet. Whatever she is dreaming about has her on the edge without having touched her.

“Beck,” she mumbles as I play with her clit.

Leaning into her neck, I suck on her skin, not giving a fuck if I leave a mark. She hisses, turning her head to give me more room.

Removing my hand from her pussy, I grab her knee, pulling her leg over mine so I can hold her open. Then I remove my cock from my boxers, rubbing her wetness up and down it until it’s well lubed up. Then I press it between her ass cheeks, careful not to actually penetrate.

“Yes. Please,” she moans.

“Shh. You’ll get us caught,” I warn her, covering her mouth with one hand while my other goes back to work on her clit.

She continues to mumble behind my hand as I thrust between her ass cheeks while simultaneously chasing her orgasm with my fingers.When she finally comes, I press down on her clit, letting my own release cover her ass.

I hold her like that, our pants the only noise in the room. When I finally pull away, she turns over to look at me, a sleepy smile on her face.

“I don’t mind waking up like that,” she tells me.

I laugh. “I’m sure you don’t. Let’s get cleaned up.”

“Or…”

The heat in her eyes has me pausing. “Or what?”

“We could get dirtier.” She sits up, removing her tank top.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask.

She chews on her bottom lip. “Well, I was dreaming about something before.”

“Yeah? What got you so hot and bothered?”

“Anal?”

I swallow hard. I’ve been playing with her ass knowing she loves it, but we haven’t gone any further since.

“I don’t have any lube.”

She crawls out of bed, grabbing some from her drawer.

“You bought that just for this?” I ask.

She nods as she squeezes her legs together. I smirk when I see my cum dripping down it. I only wish it was inside of her too.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Okay. Get on the bed. Let’s warm you up.”

I watch as she strips out of her shorts, climbing onto the bed, resting on her knees with her ass in the air.

“This the way you want it?” I ask her.

“Yes.”

I spread her cheeks, my dick twitching at the view of my cum coating them. If I hadn’t just done so, it would make me do it all over again on sight alone.