Choose Me, Love Me

Part 16

Judes POV

After getting Gray settled in bed and reassuring both Cooper and Liam that everything was okay, I finally headed to our room. It had been a long day, and the weight of everything was pressing down on me. But as soon as I walked in, I saw Peyton sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low, and his body shaking with silent sobs.

My heart ached at the sight. Without thinking, I rushed over, crouching in front of him. I gently took his face in my hands and lifted his chin, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were red, tears streaming down his cheeks, and I could see the frustration and helplessness in his expression.

"When will Gray catch a break?" Peyton choked out, his voice filled with anger and pain. "Those entitled assholes—their kids, their parents—blaming a child like Gray... they don't know him. They don't know anything about him. Just what he's been accused of."

He pulled away from me abruptly, standing up and storming across the room. He grabbed the pillows off the bed and threw them across the room before swiping everything off his desk in a fit of rage. Papers, books, and pens scattered across the floor, and the sound of objects hitting the wall filled the room.

I stood up, my own frustration bubbling inside me, but I knew this wasn't the time to focus on my feelings. Peyton needed me, and I had to be there for him. This kind of anger, this helpless fury, wasn't new for him. I had seen it before—when things got too much, when he felt powerless. It reminded me of the younger Peyton, the one Momma Layla had bought a punching bag for to help him release all that bottled-up rage. As he got older, he found different outlets, and now, as an adult, sex became one of those outlets.

I took a deep breath and asked, "Peyton, what do you need?" I could see the tension rippling through his body, his hands clenched into fists. He needed a release, and I knew what that meant.

Without another word, Peyton turned to me, his eyes dark with intensity. In one swift motion, he crossed the room, grabbed me by the waist, and threw me onto the bed. His breath was ragged, and there was a fire in his eyes that I knew well.

"You," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. He began undressing me quickly, his hands moving with urgency and need.

And just like that, I let him take control, knowing this was what he needed—this was how he would find his release, how he would take back some of the control that had been ripped from him today.

———-_____________________

Grays POV

I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, my mind refusing to shut off. The weight of everything going on pressed down on me, making it impossible to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the memories, the fear, and the what-ifs swirled around, crashing into me like waves that wouldn't stop. I kept glancing at the window, watching the dark sky slowly turn lighter as the sun crept up, but I felt nothing—just numb.

Why is this happening again?

I couldn't stop thinking about what the officers had said, what I was being accused of. It didn't make any sense. I didn't do anything wrong this time. So why am I here, in this nightmare all over again? My chest tightened as I thought about what might happen. What if they send me back to juvie? My stomach churned at the thought.

Would Peyton, Jude, Liam, and even Cooper forget about me if I ended up back in there? I doubt they'd visit. No one visits. People say they'll be there for you, but once you're locked up, they move on with their lives. I saw it happen with the kids I knew inside. Families just stop showing up. Letters stop coming.

And me? I wouldn't make it again. Not this time. I barely survived the first round.

I turned over in bed, squeezing my eyes shut, but the memories flooded back. The way the other inmates stared me down when I first got there, like I was fresh meat. That day, my fifteenth birthday—no cake, no happy birthday, just a kick to the face from one of the older kids and a bruised rib as my birthday gift. I didn't tell anyone. No one cared.