Page 61 of Pucking Fake

I crane my head, trying to see who he's talking about, but I don't even get a chance before he practically hauls me across the parking lot. We're halfway to Charles Montaque before I see him.

Great. Just who I wanted to deal with this morning.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Montaque?" Logan growls, planting himself in front of the smaller man.

"Logan," Montaque says. "I'm not here for you."

"Don't care. You aren't welcome. We're all tired of your bullshit."

"I'm just doing my job."

"Right," Logan snorts. "Harassing our families isn't your fucking job, you prick."

"I'm not harassing your family. I've never spoken to anyone in your family, Logan. I was simply following up on a rumor for a story." Montaque's gaze flickers to mine. "There are a lot of those flying around about you right now."

"Don't even look at her," Logan says, a warning growl rumbling from his lips.

I squeeze his hand, trying to settle him down before he ends up punching someone else. That's the last thing we need right now. "Let him look," I say softly.

Logan shoots a sharp look in my direction.

"Let him look," I say again. "If he wants a story about a family so bad, I have a quote for him."

"Peyton…"

"It's okay." I smile up at Logan in reassurance before glancing back at Montaque. "Do you want my quote?"

"Uh…." His gaze flickers to Logan and then back to me. "Sure?"

Logan sighs loudly.

Montaque whips a recorder out of his pocket.

I stare at him for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. After a lifetime of silence, there are a lot of them. But maybe I already said what I needed to say. I said it to Logan last night. I've been saying it to Serena for years.

"Michael Keller may have slept with my mother," I say carefully, "But that doesn't make him my father. It takes more than DNA to do that. A man who abandons the woman he got pregnant because votes and power are more important than actual people isn't a father I want to know. I don't want to know a man who told that woman to abort their child and then walked away. And I absolutely don't want to know a man who happily tossed a scared, lonely little girl into foster care after her mother was murdered. That man is no father of mine. He never has been, and he never will be." I pause. "So people can stop asking me about him now because I don't know him. I've never met him. And everything I needed to know about him, I learned a long time ago."

"Jesus," Montaque mutters.

"He isn't the one who shaped my life," I say quietly. "And he shouldn't be the one who defines it when he never had any partof it. My mother is the one who raised me. If people want to compare me to her, I'll happily accept that comparison. She was an amazing mother. She loved me fiercely. She worked her ass off to support me. And she did it on her own because the man who lied to her about being single dropped her the second he found out she was pregnant. I'mproudto be her daughter." I swallow hard, my throat working convulsively. "And I miss her every single day."

Logan squeezes my hand. "Do you have anything else to say, baby?"

"Just one more thing," I murmur, glancing at Montaque. "People aren't stories, Mr. Montaque. We're people. The guys on this team may be famous, but they're people too. They have families and feelings. They bleed. And they deserve privacy just like I did when I was a kid. Treating them like dollar signs instead of human beings is shitty. If you want respect around here, quit doing it. It isn't earning you any points with anyone."

Montaque clicks off his recorder with a curse. "I'm just doing my job, Ms. Cloud."

"No, you aren't. It stopped being a job when you intentionally started digging, trying to expose things that aren't anyone's business just to get ahead. That isn't a job. That's you being a dick for your own personal gain." I arch a brow at him. "Believe me, I know all about men like that. I just told you about him. Do you really want to be like him?"

Montaque's face turns red. He splutters, searching for a defense, but we both know he doesn't have one. Just like we both know I'm right. He isn't digging into Logan's sister because it's the job. He's digging because he's a dick just like my father.

It's up to him to choose a different path. I doubt he will. Men like him rarely do. But the option is there.

"Montaque!" Coach Lariat growls from behind him. "I already told you to get the fuck out of here. Do not piss me off."

Montaque holds up his hands, shooting another glance in my direction before he mutters a curse and turns, striding across the parking lot.

"On the bus, Moreno!" Coach shouts. "We're leaving!"

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