The Destruction You Desire by Tracy Lorraine
Luca
Istand in the driveway to the house where tonight's party is. It's only a short walk from our house on the next street over.
I told myself I wasn't going to show my face. Today has been the biggest shit show I've ever experienced.
My head spins with the vodka racing through my system and the house before me appears to move despite the fact I know it's not.
I can't even think about what happened this afternoon. If I picture his face, if I think about her confession, then I know I'm going to drown and never surface again.
I spent five years convincing myself that she was wrong. That my dad hadn't slept with my best friend's sister.
But it's not even just that. He got her fucking pregnant.
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I try to force myself to walk back home, to stay away from her, to stay away from everyone. But a photo I saw on Instagram only thirty minutes ago calls to me.
I have no idea if Letty did it on purpose. If she knew I'd be sitting at home stalking them all on social media to try to get a glimpse of her. Part of me thought she'd bail on tonight. But it seems what happened today hasn't affected her in the same way it has me because I know she's inside there right now, having the time of her life.
I guess she has every right. It's her twenty-first birthday, after all.
Pulling my cell out once more, I stare at the image as my confusion continues to war inside me.
I want her.
I need her.
I hate her.
My grip tightens until I worry I'm about to shatter the screen as I look at her smile at whoever is taking the photo. Letty? A guy?
My heart pounds as I think about her hooking up with someone else tonight, about someone else touching what's mine.
With another swig of vodka, I shove my cell back into my pocket and make my way inside.
A few people try to stop me as I walk through the house but most can sense the tension radiating from me and give me a wide berth. I don't blame them. I don't even want to talk to myself right now.
I scan the house for her pink hair, for Letty's bronze skin. Hell, even for Kane's smug fucking face. Anything that will help me find her.
I move through the crowds until I spot the flash of pink I've been craving. Just like at the toga party last weekend, she's in the middle of the dance floor, with the others close by. Ella has her tongue down some guy’s throat while Letty rubs herself up against Kane as if they're in a room alone.
Ripping my eyes from everyone else, I focus on Peyton, desperate for the crowd to part so I can see who she's dancing with.
But the second that does happen, I wish it hadn't because a red haze like I've never experienced before descends upon me and I'm moving before I even realize my feet have left the floor.
Those who see me coming jump aside, those who don't soon find themself barged out of my way as I fly toward my brother.
"You motherfucker," I roar, pulling my arm back and slamming it into his cheek.
Peyton screams in shock as Leon releases her and goes stumbling backward.
Others cry and shout as I approach Leon once more but instead of coming at me, all he does is hold his hands up in defense as his cheek burns red.
"It's not what you think, bro."
As he says the words, a flash of pink races past me as Peyton runs full speed through the break in the crowd.
"You fucking idiot."
"Peyton wait," Letty shouts but I'm faster than all of them despite the fact my body is entirely fueled by alcohol right now.
I take the stairs two at a time, hot on her heels. She flies past the line to the bathroom and dives inside right as someone exits, much to the complaints of the people waiting to go inside.
She slams the door but unfortunately for her, she's not quite quick enough. My palm connects with the wood and I push it open before she gets a chance to lock it.
"Leave me alone, Luc, please," she begs, wrapping her arms around her waist as if she's physically trying to hold herself together.
Slamming the door behind me, I cut off the complaints of the others who are waiting and I flip the lock.
I take a step toward her and she takes a hesitant one back.
"W-what do you want, Luc?"
I consider her question for a few seconds.
"Honestly. I have no fucking clue."
She gasps when she runs out of space behind her and bumps up against the wall.
"I-I'm sorry you found out like that. That wasn't—" Her words are cut off when my hand flies out and pins her against the wall by her throat.
She swallows nervously, her body trembling as tears pool in her eyes.
"Stop," I boom. "Just stop."
My chest heaves as I stare at her almost cowering away from me.
I hold her wide eyes for a beat before I drop mine to her pink lips. They’re so full and I already know just how sweet they taste. Then I drop lower to her dress. It's the first time I really get to look at her and fuck.
"You look…" Beautiful. I swallow down the word as the confusion I've battled with all day only gets stronger.
Hurt her.
Take her.
Punish her.
Make her yours.
"Tell me he didn't touch you. Tell me he didn't take what's mine."
She shakes her head, her brows pulling together. "N-no, he—"
"Luca. Peyton. Open the door," a familiar, angry voice demands through the door.
"Fuck off, Legend," I bark. "This has nothing to do with you." I hold Peyton's eyes and I can't miss the relief that floods them that she's being rescued by that prick.
"No fucking chance," he shouts before there's a loud bang and the door rattles on its hinges.
"Fuck," I bark, acting on impulse and slamming my lips down on hers.
The second time he rams the door behind us, the lock gives way and he crashes into the room.
"Luca you need to—" Letty's concerned voice is cut off when she finds Peyton's hands wrapped around my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she kisses me back almost as fiercely as I do her.
Reaching down, I lift her so she has no choice but to wrap her legs around my waist, her tight dress riding up her thighs and exposing her ass for me.
"Stay out of my fucking business," I bark as I spin her away from the wall and holding Kane's eyes before drilling them into Letty as well. "This has fuck all to do with either of you."
Without waiting for a response, I march out of the bathroom and down to the quietest end of the hall.
"Peyton?" I ask when I stop, noticing that she's deadweight in my arms. "P, baby?"
Shifting her around so she's cradled in my arms, I look down at her sleeping face.
"Jesus fucking Christ, baby."
We get more than a few curious glances as I walk down the stairs with her in my arms. I could probably make use of one of the bedrooms in this place, but like hell is that going to happen. The only place she's sleeping tonight is in my bed. It's where she should have been last weekend. It's time to make up for that.
We're almost out of the house by the time someone alerts Leon to what's going on and he comes running up behind us.
"Luca, what the hell are you playing at?" I spin around.
"Nothing. I'm playing at fucking nothing. You need to stay away from her."
"Fucking hell, bro," he mutters, scrubbing his hand down his face. "You have no fucking clue, do you?"
"She's passed out. I'm taking her home."
"By home, I really hope you mean her home and not locking her up somewhere to torture her again."
"I'm pretty sure she enjoyed every second of last weekend."
"You're a jerk."
"You're the one who's fucking clueless, bro. You have no idea what the hell is going on here."
"Maybe you should tell me then."
I chuckle at him as memories from earlier today flicker through my mind.
"You'll regret suggesting that when I do tell you."
His brow creases in confusion.
"How about you put less time into worrying about me and go and try to get laid, huh?" I ask, turning my back on him and walking across the front yard with Peyton still in my arms.
The walk home is quick and the fresh air is enough to clear my head somewhat.
I make quick work of getting us up to my room. Thankfully, it's a Saturday night and the house is deserted, so in only minutes, I'm pulling my sheets back and laying her down on my bed.
Her pink hair fans out over my dark gray sheets and her dress rests high up on her thighs. I stumble back until my legs collide with my chair. Sitting down, I don't take my eyes away from her. Her chest heaves with her deep breaths and a little whimper rumbles up her throat.
She looks beautiful. Perfect. Everything I've fucking dreamed of for the last five years.
I lean forward, placing my elbows to rest on my knees and just watch her.
I can't count the number of times I imagined what it would be like to have her in my bed once again. Although I know for a fact that I never imagined it to be quite like this.
Every part of me wanted to believe that she wouldn't lie to me. After all our years together, I wanted to believe that I knew her inside and out, and that she'd never do that to me. But equally, I refused to believe that my dad could have done that.
I always knew he was a lot of things. But a… a pedophile? No. Never.
Okay so she was only a few weeks from turning eighteen, but he was what… forty?
My stomach turns over at the thought of him chasing after Libby. She was a kid. What was he even thinking? He had to know how much that would have hurt all of us. He also couldn't have been stupid enough to think we'd never find out. She was my best friend's sister, for fuck's sake.
My hands ball into fists as I try to figure out what his game plan was. My stomach knots with the knowledge of what he did, my anger once again threatening to get the better of me.
But as if she knows I need a distraction, Peyton pushes up onto her elbow. She looks directly at me, but I know she's not really seeing me because her eyes are glazed over.
"Luc, I—" She doesn't get to say anymore because she pukes all over herself and my bed.
"Fucking hell, P," I groan, jumping up and racing over to help her.
Scooping her into my arms once more, I carry her through to the bathroom and lower her feet into the shower.
"I knew I shouldn't have gone to that goddamn party," I mutter as I somehow manage to hold her up with one arm and undo the zipper at the back of her dress with the other, without us both ending up in a pile on the floor.
Turning the shower on, I let us both get blasted with hot water, it soaks my clothes as it washes away the puke covering Peyton.
She just about holds herself up with her arms wrapped around my waist and her head resting on my shoulder. And just for tonight, I tell myself that everything is okay. That we're just the old Luca and Peyton. I forget that anything else exists and let the alcohol still in my system wash away our reality so that I can just look after her for tonight. So that I can pretend for tonight.
I dry her off, my eyes lingering on her curves, my cock throbbing for her to wake up enough for me to take her, but I know she won't. She's out of it. And after pulling one of my jerseys over her head, I place her on the small couch in my room and strip the bed, something I had zero intention of doing tonight.
By the time I crawl in beside her in a clean and dry pair of boxers, she's curled up in a ball and snoring quietly.
I lay facing her, studying her just like I did last weekend as she slept. And just like last weekend, I see the worry lines on her brow that never used to be there, the dark shadows under her eyes. And for the first time since she confessed what she'd heard to me, I try to put myself in her shoes.
A huge part of me feels for her. Walking away from her ripped me apart, but I was the one who made the decision. I was the one who chose not to believe her. I chose my loyalty to my father instead of her. I was the one who made a huge mistake.
But despite being in the wrong.
I'm not the one who's kept a massive secret for the past five years.
A secret I'm not so sure I'm ever going to be able to forgive her for.
