He snorted. “Cavorting? Come on. Nothing is going on, all right? We’re friends. She needed a ride. End of story.”
Another pause. “You better not be lying to me. I know she’s probably a lot looser with her morals than the girls you’re used to, but don’t fall into the trap. Women like her have one thing on their mind when it comes to boys like you—a paycheck. Touch her and she’ll either be filing sexual harassment or getting pregnant and petitioning for support faster than you can say ‘good-bye future.’”
“We’re not together. And anyway, she’s not like that.”
Roslyn’s tone turned icy. “They’re all like that. You need to get your head out of your pants and get things back on track with Vanessa. You’re going to end up ruining your chance with her.”
Reid made a frustrated sound, and Brynn stopped listening. She stepped away from the door and sank onto the edge of Reid’s unmade bed, deflated. Was she ever going to escape her family background? Even a woman who treated her with the upmost politeness to her face secretly believed Brynn was a whore-in-training. Tears lined her lids, and she swiped at her eyes. She knew she should be used to the judgment by now, but hearing it from the lips of someone she respected wrenched her gut.
The door cracked open and Reid peeked in, quickly noticing her tears. “Sugar, what’s wrong?”
Brynn shook her head and tried to smile. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
He strode over to her and put an arm around her. “You heard what she said.”
She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Look, Vanessa is just a girl I was seeing at the beginning of summer. I’m not with her anymore.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just hard to hear what people really think of me.”
“That’s not what everyone thinks of you,” he soothed, rubbing her arm.
“Isn’t it though? The girls at work know I don’t have money, so they think I’m trash. Your aunt thinks I’m trying to tempt you with my wanton ways. And you think something’s wrong with me because I enjoyed the other night. Hell, maybe I do have warped morals.”
“Enough,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Right, I’m not screwed up, yet you believe there’s something the matter with you because of what happened between us. Your logic sucks, Reid.”
He groaned. “Listen, that’s why I brought you here. Maybe I can help you understand. You’re not the only one who wishes they could change their family background.”
He rose from the bed and crossed over to a small desk stacked with textbooks and papers in the corner of the room. He yanked open a drawer, rifled through it, and pulled out a manila envelope. “Here.”
He tossed it onto the bed and shoved his hands in his pockets, his posture turning rigid. She eyed him warily and picked it up. “What is this?”
“My father’s claim to fame.”
She slid her fingers beneath the flap to pull out the contents. A yellowed newspaper clipping. The picture on the article was of an older man with Reid’s features, but none of his warmth. Cold, gray eyes stared from the page, sending a ripple of uneasiness through her. The headline read Serial Rapist Caught. Her stomach flipped over. “Oh, my God.”
“Brutalized thirteen women before he was arrested. Tied them up, beat them, raped them.” His voice caught on the last part. “My mother was his sixth victim.”
The breath left her lungs. Reid was born out of rape? Growing up, she’d thought nothing could be worse than her situation—not knowing who her father was. But man, she’d been wrong. She glanced up and found Reid staring at his shoes, his shame and embarrassment palpable.
She set the article down on the bed and went to him, sliding her arms around his waist, though he kept his hands in his pockets. “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”
He sighed and put his arms around her. “Now do you see why we need to be careful?”
“What do you mean?” She pulled back so she could look at his face.
He threw his hands out to his sides. “I came from a monster, Brynn. Half of me is from him. What if all these urges I have to dominate you are an early version of what he became? What if he started by just wanting to tie a girl up and spank her a little?”
“Oh, Reid, no,” she said, shaking her head, her heart breaking for him. “You have as much in common with that man as Molly has with a brain surgeon. You can see it in the photo, that man has no heart, no soul.” She cupped his face and met his eyes. “And you—you’re all heart and soul.”
He stared down at her, his eyes swirling with an amalgam of emotions. “Why do you keep putting your trust in me? I don’t know if I trust myself.”
She wound her arms around his neck and held his gaze. “My mom has dated abusive men. When guys like that walk into the room, it’s like the air stops moving. My skin crawls and all I want to do is leave. But when you walk into the room, the opposite happens—I’m not scared. All I want to do is get closer to you. And get naked.”
A laugh broke through his pained expression. “Is that right?”