14. Break Stuff

brEAK STUFF

I don't sleep.I lie in bed, just replaying the night repeatedly.

Penny is Honey.

I fucked my adopted cousin through a wall.

Before I even decided to join Key Club, I thought I was in a mid-life crisis of sorts, but now I absolutely find myself wondering what the point of my life is.

Especially because now I'm connecting Penny's face and body with the most perfect cunt I've ever seen.

I'm picturing her face and body on the other side of that wall, and I can almost imagine the noises she made.

It's wrong. I know it's fucking wrong, but apparently my dick doesn't.

My shaft is hard, straining against my boxers while I lie on my expensive, lonely sheets.

I'm hard for Penny. My annoyingly sweet, slightly messed-up cousin. Who is undoubtedly charming and, as of late, has made me feel more human than anyone else has.

The woman in the apartment above mine haunts me.

The worst part?

It's not even about everything we did at the Key Club. I wish it was. I wish that I was just craving the physical nature we were chasing together. Now that I know it's Penny, I feel more.

Fuck.

I grab my cock and squeeze it from outside of my boxers, willing it to go down and for these errant, immoral thoughts to slip away from my mind.

When I realized it was her, there was, of course, a moment of shock, but I didn't react the same way Penny did. Her tears and panic have me moving my hand off of my erection and flinging my arm over my eyes.

She was shattered that it was me.

It's how I should feel. I should feel disgusted, revolted even that she was the woman I was doing nasty things to.

Yet…

No.

We made a deal in my car. Honestly, I would have probably told her anything to make her stop crying and calm her panic, but it's what she wanted to hear and what I need to live by.

We have to forget it ever happened.

Though there's no way I can truly forget. Not the way her pussy felt wrapped around my cock, or the way she confidently sucked me off.

I can visualize her most intimate parts as I lie here, denying myself.

In front of Penny and our family, I can work through this and pretend it never happened. But alone in the dark, I can live with my fucked up thoughts and moral compass.

I pull my dick off and jerk off to thoughts of Penny's perfect pink lips wrapped around my cock.

I take the stairs,attempting to avoid Penny at all costs. There's shame in the fact that I fantasized over her last night, that I'm not spiraling in the same way she is.

Part of me wants to comfort her, but it would be a lie.

We're not blood relatives, we're grown adults, we can fuck whoever we want.

If anything, there's a part of me that feels like she's blowing this way out of proportion. It was just sex, and that's all it would ever be.

Our little, dirty secret.

We're already going to need to hold on to what we did at the Key Club. What's one more thing?

I really should find a therapist.

The building is empty as I head to work, trying to leave the memories and realities of last night behind me. Yet, no matter how hard I try, thoughts of honey blonde hair and fresh tears keep popping into my mind.

Two daysand no sign of Penny. Not a single peep.

Aiden hasn't mentioned her, she hasn't asked for a ride to work, and family dinner is tomorrow.

Penny never bails on seeing her parents—ever.

It's a disgusting sinking feeling I'm not familiar with settling in my stomach. I need to know that she's okay. She was already struggling before all of this, and I probably just made it worse.

I inhale deeply and leave my apartment and take the stairs. I'm standing in front of her door for a long time, contemplating if she needs her space or not. Maybe my knocking on her door will just make this all fucking worse.

Fuck it.

I tap my knuckles against the door, wondering what type of state she'll be in.

When she opens the door, I'm confused.

Her hair is piled on top of her head in a bun and her eyes are red, but not from crying, like she hasn't been sleeping.

"Hey," she says in low rasp.

I search her face, and it takes her a moment until her eyes finally meet mine. Her pretty blue eyes are bloodshot and she has slight bags under her eyes.

"Penny, are you alright?"

She walks into her apartment, not answering my question. I'm stunned for a moment, but follow her inside.

She sits on her couch, her legs pressed against her chest, as she makes herself as small as possible. I sit next to her and feel like I'm about to talk down a wounded animal.

Penny nods to her coffee table. I look at her for a few long seconds before looking at the coffee table. There's a hand-written letter along with the report.

I grab the letter first.

Penny,

I understand why you wanted to find me, why you'd want to know where you came from. I can't blame you for searching for answers, but I wish you hadn't. It's not that I don't have love for you, that I don't care about the woman you've become.

It's because no matter how much I love you, how much I want the best for you, I can never have you in my life.

It took me too long to realize I wasn't strong enough to take care of you. I was young; I was being abused, and I didn't have any other options.

I'm still on a healing journey of my own, and meeting you would disrupt that. I'm sorry, that's all I can give you.

You deserve better, and it's why you couldn't be in my life. I'm happy to hear that your adoptive family treated you well and that the cycle ends with you.

I will not tell you who your father is, and I ask that you don't go looking. I promise you will not like what you find. I have enclosed some medical family history for your private investigator.

While I doubt this was what you were hoping to find at the end of the tunnel, I hope I can bring some peace into your life as well. I had no other children. I never married again, and never plan to.

I will always carry a piece of you with me, even when it hurts.

May your life be fruitful and full of joy and may you never endure the pain you would have if I had made a different choice.

I'm sorry.

I put the handwritten note down and pick up the private investigator's file, who suggests not telling Penny her biological mother's true identity, but that she has been found and he was able to have her write a letter.

I look back at Penny, who is completely emotionless. It's unlike her.

The woman nearly wears her heart on her sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Pen," I tell her.

She rests her cheek on her knee and looks at me.

"I haven't told anyone else."

"Why?"

She shrugs and sighs. "I think because I'm so fucking mad. Between what happened…" she trails off, giving me a pointed look and sighs again. "Then this? How much can I take until I fall apart, Linc?"

I stare at her for a long moment, never having had such a vulnerable conversation with her. I've had the same thoughts and I haven't gone through something like this.

"Do you want to let some of that anger out?" I ask her.

The only thing I can do is come up with a solution for that at this point, nothing else. Everything else in her life is a fucking mess.

But rage? Anger? That's something I know how to handle.

"I don't want to go to the freaking batting cages," she says.

"Oh, I have something much better in mind."

She blinks at me a few times, and swallows.

"I'll get changed."

We signthe waiver and put on the white hazmat suits and goggles. There still isn't a smile or tear written on Penny's face, but she didn't complain when she learned where I was bringing her.

She grabs a crowbar and I take a baseball bat as the kid working gives us safety protocol and unlocks the room.

When we enter, there's just a ton of shit to break; TVs, glass, bottles, printers, lamps, truly just a bunch of random old shit.

There's no music, just silence as we approach.

Penny takes in the room, but doesn't do anything right away.

I pull back and slam on the printer in front of me, causing her to startle. I put all my weight behind it, imagining the printer is everything that doesn't make sense in my life right now.

Why can't I be a better man? Why am I the way I am? Is there a point in my life where I'll actually be fucking happy? Not to mention all these mixed, confusing feelings I'm having about Penny.

The printer is fully smashed, and I look over at Penny.

"Go on, smash the TV," I tell her.

She looks skeptical, but she rears back the crowbar and hits it. The screen shatters and she looks shocked before she hits it repeatedly.

I just watch her, the way she's over exerting herself when she's already spent. The way she screams after each crunch of the old TV. Her shoulders sag after about the tenth hit.

The crowbar hits the floor with a clang and she falls apart.

Sobs rack through her body as I approach her.

Penny doesn't even hesitate as she grabs me around the waist, still fully in her hazmat suit, as she throws off the goggles and cries. The action is so reminiscent of the other night, but this time she isn't running away from me.

Her tears soak my chest as I rub her back.

"Let it all out," I tell her softly.

My chin is pressed against her hair as I hold her tight as she lets out all the built up emotion.

"She… she wants nothing to do with me. I was brought into this world under the worst circumstances, Linc. Nobody wants me," she cries.

I hold her tighter.

"You're wanted, Penny."

"I'm an obligation to my parents. I'm turning fucking thirty and I don't have my shit together. Fucked my cousin through a glory hole, and found out the base of my existence is horrific."

"You're not an obligation," I tell her.

She just cries, pouring it all out to my hazmat suit. She doesn't say any more, everything she needed to get out has already been said.

I always thought Penny was happy-go-lucky. Maybe she took the wrong turn with guys, was a little free, but always happy. To see her like this makes her feel more familiar than ever.

I understand Penny on a level I don't think anyone else does. Maybe because of our shared shame or negative thinking.

Except as I watch her crumble before me, all I can think about is how I want to take away her pain.

She cries as our time ticks down and the teenager working opens the door. He looks uncomfortable but nods his head.

"The smash room can be really cathartic," he says.

I roll my eyes, pulling off my goggles and hand them to him. Penny doesn't move, so I unzip her suit, helping her undress and giving it back to the kid. She seems like she's in a near catatonic state on the way home.

She's quiet, and her eyes are droopy by the time we get back to the apartment. I take her into her room and tuck her into her bed, not wanting to cross any boundaries with changing her clothes.

I'm about to leave as I push the blankets to her chest.

"Stay," she whispers.

I don't even have to think about it, as I climb in on the other side, fully dressed. She places her head against my chest.

It should feel uncomfortable and awkward, yet it feels fucking right.

"Don't tell anyone about the letter, please."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Please."

I nod and she falls asleep.

What's one more secret between us?