The Coffee Shop Ch. 06

Author's Note: I want to apologize for taking so long to post this story. In my defense, I rewrote it at least 10 times in an effort to make it presentable for reading. Also, life got in the way, which hindered my writing further.

In this chapter, life moves forward for Caleb and Peyton, faster than they would in real life. The side effects of abuse takes a lifetime to overcome. Obviously, I have no intention of writing Caleb and Peyton's entire life, so suspend belief a little at the pace I'm taking things. They are a couple very much in love, and that is all, in the end, that truly matters to me.

Thank you for your patience and badgering - I hope you won't be disappointed in this next chapter of Caleb and Peyton's tale. As always, comments, votes, and feedback (especially feedback!) are most welcome. Even the bad kind. =)

Thanks for reading!

"I'm ready."

Peyton turned at the kitchen sink in surprise, her expression reflected in the face of her mother who stopped preparing breakfast to listen to what Caleb had to say.

Caleb was sitting in his unofficial seat at the end of the kitchen table, both hands bunched into fists out in front of him. His jaw was set tightly, his expression one of determination and a slight sliver of fear.

"Ready for...what, Caleb?" Peyton's father, Daniel, asked him as he folded up the Sunday newspaper and tucked it under the lip of his breakfast plate, giving Caleb his undivided attention.

"I'm ready to go to the police about what happened," he replied evenly, his ice green eyes flickering over each of their faces. He didn't say a word more, which was usual for him, Peyton had come to realize.

"What brought this on, hon?" Her mother asked curiously, voicing Peyton's very own thoughts.

Caleb inhaled deeply, fortifying himself for what he had to say. "It's been eighteen years that I've kept this to myself." He swallowed hard and locked eyes with Peyton. "I just want to get this over with. I'm ready to move on. I have reasons to now." Caleb then turned his gaze to Daniel. "I just want to be part of a family again. A real family."

Daniel pushed aside his plate and leaned forward on sinewy forearms to regard Caleb seriously. "Firebug," Daniel began, using his nickname for Caleb, "you've been a part of this family the moment my daughter let you into this house. Lola, Peyton, and I are behind you on this every step of the way. Finish your breakfast and we'll take you to the station."

Caleb's gaze went inward, his expression guarded. Peyton straightened up a little at the sight of his hackles rising and quickly struggled for something to say to put Caleb at ease.

"I'll take him," she said quietly. All three of them looked at her in surprise. The gratitude in Caleb's gaze told Peyton she had done the right thing, but both her parents looked disheartened to be taken out of the loop. "Why don't the two of you get in touch with Janssen?" she suggested to them, giving them a soft smile that would (hopefully) placate them. "He can put this on file for us."

Oskar Janssen was not only one of the best state attorneys in Maine, but also a close friend of her parents, having gone to university with Daniel. If they could trust anyone with something as important as Caleb's testimony, it was him.

Daniel understood the implication of Peyton's words first, quickly cutting off Lola before she could raise hell about being not included in something this important.

"That's fine. We'll be here when you get back, alright?" he told Caleb, who merely nodded and relaxed his bunched fists.

Peyton warred with her pride and nervousness as she poured the rest of her espresso down the sink. "Let me change clothes and we'll go," Peyton told Caleb, kissing his cheek as she passed by him, unthinking.

Daniel choked on his coffee and Peyton's face flushed in embarrassment. Caleb smiled and winked at her before tucking into his meal. Peyton hurried up the stairs before Lola could get in on the gag.

Since the kiss in the guest bedroom -- officially Caleb's bedroom now -- Peyton had kept her distance from Caleb. The kiss, five weeks ago today, had, naturally, been on her mind ever since. With the arrival of her parents, distancing herself had been rather easy, as from the time Caleb woke to the time they went to bed Lola and Daniel were by his side, chipping away at Caleb's icy shell. Seeing the results of their work had put Peyton's soul and sanity at sincere risk.

The problem was that Peyton never knew where she stood with Caleb. The first week at the Barn, he had fluctuated between avoiding her like a plague and challenging her over things as simple as clothes washing. The second week had been a bit better -- he actually made conversation and snapped at her less often. By the third week, Caleb seemed more comfortable with her, but it was obvious that the two of them were on thin ice. Caleb seemed to be waiting for any excuse to leave, any at all, and Peyton had to admit his distrust hurt her, even though she knew he couldn't help it.

So, to give Caleb more time to get used to her, she had asked her parents to extend their cruise. Her parents had agreed, rather reluctantly, to stay the few remaining weeks, detouring to Puerto Rico to visit her mother's side of the family in San Juan. In those few precious weeks, Caleb had finally begun to relax. But it was nothing compared to the openness he exhibited after Daniel and Lola arrived fresh from the airport only two weeks ago.

The Caleb she had met at the coffee shop was almost a completely different person than the man she knew now. He had grown up, he had opened up, and more importantly, he seemed to ready to live the life he knew he could have. It had been such a beautiful process to watch, even with all the speed bumps along the way.

As beautiful as it was however, it worried Peyton enough that she lost sleep at night. What if, during this miraculous change that Caleb was going through, he began to realize he didn't need Peyton anymore? What if those telling glances he shot in her direction when her parents weren't looking began to occur less and less? What if Caleb's eyes wandered to another girl, someone younger, and someone who he had more in common with? Would Peyton be willing to let him go?

The abrupt sound of knocking jerked Peyton back to reality. "Peyton, are you decent?" called her mother through the bedroom door. Peyton shook her head to mentally clear her thoughts before turning around and opening the door.

Lola smiled warmly and handed Peyton her infamous "dip stick" waffles, or waffles dipped in chocolate on a stick. "You were in such a hurry to scramble out of the way you missed breakfast." Peyton sighed and took the plate of chocolate dipped confectionary. Only her mother would consider carnival food as breakfast.

"Mind if I come in?" Lola asked as Peyton got distracted with the first bite.

"Sure," she said around a mouthful of waffle, moving aside so her mother could enter. Lola came in and shut the door behind her before giving her an impish smile.

Instantly Peyton knew what was coming and swallowed her mouthful of chocolate-coated Belgian waffle. "What is it?" she asked as soon as Lola folded her tanned legs and sat at the edge of Peyton's bed.

"You know," Lola began in an unusually lucid tone and decidedly ignoring Peyton's question, "when I met your father, I knew he was the only man I'd ever marry. I knew that I'd never leave him."

"Well, that's because you're Catholic," Peyton blurted out. Lola laughed brightly and nodded her head.

"True," she agreed, still laughing. "That's part of it, yes. But it wasn't just my beliefs that bound me to your father. You want to know what it was?"

Peyton shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable and confused at what her mother was getting at. "Sure."

Lola's deep golden eyes, the ones that Peyton had inherited, sparkled. "It was his eyes."

Peyton snorted. So much for the buildup. "You married dad because of his baby blues?" she teased, laughing a little as she leaned back against the door. "Sorry if I find that hard to believe."

Lola laughed again, shaking her head. "No, I married him for more than his eyes, hija, and you're missing my point."

"Which is what again?" Peyton asked as she nibbled at her waffle.

"It was the way he looked at me, Peyton. And both your papi and I notice Caleb watches you the same way. And don't think I haven't noticed you ogling him when he isn't looking," she tagged on, sounding like her usual fun-fun-fun-all-the-time self. "I know you, and you aren't very good at subtlety, my dear."

Peyton blushed crimson and shook her head slightly. Her mother accused her of lack of subtlety? Christ, Lola was as unabashedly frank as anyone could possibly get!

"So what are you trying to tell me, mom?" Peyton asked a little defensively as she regarded the giggling woman sitting before her.

"I'm not saying anything you don't already know," Lola said with a mysterious smile as she stood up and adjusted her skirt.

Peyton then registered what her mother was getting at. "You think I love him?" she asked incredulously.

Lola tucked back a strand of Peyton's hair, that strange smile still on her face. "I think that you already know the answer to that question, hija." She gently squeezed Peyton's nose, like she used to do when Peyton was a child, winking suddenly. "Don't let this one get away, hmm?"

Lola was out the door and down the stairs before Peyton could even formulate a response.

With a sigh Peyton finished her waffle and quickly hurried into a new outfit, inspecting her reflection in the mirror. The clothes were nice, but her face needed a bit of work. She eyed the clock on the bedside table and hurried to the bathroom. Five minutes later, she was down the stairs and out of the Barn, her car keys in hand.

Caleb and Daniel were looking at the engine of his Audi as she approached, talking mechanics from the sounds of things, and Peyton couldn't help but smile at how easily Daniel made Caleb laugh. It took her forever to put a smile on Caleb's face. Surprise flitted through her when Caleb and Daniel suddenly shook hands, grinning at one another.

"Did I miss something?" she asked them as she tugged on her jacket. Caleb unexpectedly grinned at her.

"Yea, I'm driving," he told her without preamble, plucking the keys from her fingers as he walked around her to the driver side door. Peyton blinked and eyed her father for clarification, surprise filling her when he just winked and smiled.

"Take care of my baby. My daughter too," Daniel told Caleb as he shut the hood. Peyton smacked her dad gently in the arm as she walked past him to the passenger side, throwing him a mock dirty look.

"Love you, we'll be back soon," she told him.

Peyton sat in the passenger seat and buckled in, casting a wary glance in Caleb's direction. He looked happy and at ease, which was surprising considering where they were headed. Caleb easily maneuvered the Audi out of the garage and followed the road into town at a leisurely pace.

"Are you nervous?" Peyton had to ask as Caleb braked at a red light.

Caleb suddenly smirked. "Not as much as I thought I'd be."

Peyton nodded and turned back to the road, saying nothing more on the subject. Soon they arrived at the police station. They parked and went inside, and Peyton had to admit to herself that while Caleb wasn't nervous -- she was. Caleb took her hand as they entered the small brick building, squeezing gently as they followed the signs to the lobby and front desk where three young men in uniform were working.

Caleb didn't let her hand go as he got their attention. "I'm here to report about an assault," he stated, his voice never wavering. Out of nowhere a surge of protectiveness swept through Peyton and she drew herself closer to Caleb, holding his arm in a way that screamed MINE!

Instantly all three men reacted, their eyes darting between the two of them. "Who is making the report?" asked the middle officer, his pale blue eyes locking onto Peyton.

Caleb's other hand bunched into a fist, the first sign of his unease so far. "I am," he said quietly.

"Officer Clinton is in charge of our domestic violence team," said the officer on the left after a moment's pause, his shiny name badge identifying him as R. TULLY. "I'll take you to his office."

Peyton and Caleb nodded and watched as the dark-skinned man stood to his full, imposing height before coming around the desk and escorting them through the rather busy maze of desks and officers towards the back of the building. Here there was an entire row of large offices with golden plaques marking names and divisions, every single grey door open and occupied by officers.

Officer Clinton had his own office at the end of the row, and at the sight of Tully, he abandoned the paperwork in front of him and stood. He looked to be in his mid to late forties, with salt-and-pepper hair and slate blue eyes that gave nothing away. He stood at a pretty impressive height, maybe just an inch or two shorter than Tully's six foot five and filled out his uniform with hard muscle. Peyton couldn't help but notice he didn't wear a wedding ring and his office was void of any personal photos.

"Officer Clinton knows what he's doing," Tully told Caleb. "Trust him." He gave a nod to Peyton and left, shutting the door behind him.

Clinton shook hands with us and beckoned us to sit. His gaze went back and forth between Peyton and Caleb for a few seconds before he spoke.

"It isn't often I see young men reporting to me in this office," he said in a quiet tone that was bizarrely similar to Caleb's. "Assuming that you are actually here to report something," Clinton directed at Caleb.

"I am," Caleb replied tersely, his body tensing up automatically.

Clearly for someone who knew what they were doing, he didn't mind pressing Caleb's buttons. Or maybe, Peyton wondered, that was the point.

Clinton's intelligent blue eyes swiftly acknowledged Peyton. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind waiting outside. This is an interview."

Instead of answering him, Peyton turned to Caleb.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" she asked him.

Caleb hesitated. "Officer Clinton, I'd rather have Peyton stay with me," he replied, offering no explanation. Peyton had to fight a smile at that. Obstinate until the end, as usual.

Clinton nodded, not pressing the issue.

"Start from the beginning," he told Caleb. "There's no rush, just tell me what happened."

And Caleb told him everything, starting from his childhood and working his way to the present. His tone was consistently even, his words never rushed or forced. Peyton would've been surprised by how easily he told his story if it hadn't been for the death grip he had locked on her hand or the stiff way he had planted himself in his seat. In turns Caleb relaxed and tightened, and only once did his voice waver -- when he described jumping off the Overlook to end his life, grabbing the edge at last second due to fear. That was the only time Clinton's expression of nonchalance broke, his blue eyes flickering from anger to understanding in almost a heartbeat.

"...and I've been with Peyton and her family ever since," Caleb finished, swallowing hard.

Clinton leaned forward in his seat and pinned a stare on Caleb that had Peyton squirming in her seat from its intensity, even though it wasn't directed at her. "It may please you to know that Jeremiah Vaughn is currently serving time in a correctional facility for an assault and battery charge for taking a bottle to a bartender's skull."

"How long is his sentence?" Peyton asked, shifting in her chair at the news.

"Six months, thanks to his priors," Clinton replied. "But what you are describing is in fact a Class A felony, especially if he has evidence. Battery that leaves physical deformity is called 'aggravated battery' and is a serious felony. Abuse, especially abuse to a child, is also a serious felony. With the right attorney, Caleb, your father could be sitting in jail for his crimes against you for a very long time." He waited for this to sink in before continuing. "Is that what you want?"

Caleb didn't hesitate. "I want that bastard to rot for what he's done to me."

Clinton nodded. "Consider this case opened, then." He leaned back in his chair and pulled a tablet from beside his computer and placed it in front of Caleb. "I need you to write down exactly what you told me, including any details and dates you can remember. Afterwards, if you are up for it, I want to send a medical examiner down to take photos of the scars you were describing. Unless you would be more comfortable going to the hospital?"

Caleb shivered and picked up the pen Clinton had placed beside the tablet. "No hospitals," he muttered as he began to write in a clean and neat legible cursive that put Peyton's handwriting to shame.

Roughly an hour or so later, Caleb and Peyton were walking out of the police station with business cards, pamphlets and contact information for everything from therapists to yoga classes to support groups, all of which Caleb upended in a trash can outside, keeping only Officer Clinton's card.

"You sure you don't want any of that?" Peyton asked in surprise.

Caleb shook his head, his eyes hardening as he stared ahead. He handed over the keys to the Audi as they approached the vehicle without a word. Peyton looked up at him in surprise and it was only then that she noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow and how his eyes were dancing with unshed tears.

"Caleb," she breathed, pulling him to a halt.

She pulled him close to her and buried her face in his shirt, holding him tightly to her. He let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like someone trying not to show they were crying before his arms came around her to seal her body to his. While the touchy-feely thing wasn't new to Peyton, it had been a while since anyone had really hugged her, a man nonetheless. Having his warmth wrapped around her snugly was almost a high in itself. Smelling Caleb's natural scent relaxed her and she accepted his tighter hold without complaint.

They stood that way for a minute or so before Caleb leaned back and tipped her chin up. Peyton felt her breath catch in her throat as Caleb's mouth descended onto hers and her eyes fluttered closed the moment their lips touched.

It was like their first kiss, but only a million times more significant. Tenderly Caleb became acquainted with her mouth, pressing his lips fully to hers as though he was claiming the swells as his. He tasted of espresso and mint toothpaste, the combination not unpleasant. A sigh escaped her lips when Caleb broke contact to rest his forehead against hers as they took a breath.

"I can't do this without you, Peyton," he said softly, his voice clogged with emotion. "I need you."

Peyton opened her eyes and blinked back tears as she gazed up into Caleb's face. Unshed tears made the green of his eyes stark against his tanned skin, the emerald depths swirling with emotions that for once Peyton could identify. His expression was open and vulnerable, his voice pleading. To see him like this only reminded Peyton of her mother's words: "But it wasn't my beliefs that bound me to your father...it was his eyes."

And hadn't that been the kicker for Peyton since the very beginning? Those cool ice green eyes that darkened in anger or lust and shone like polished stones when he laughed had captivated her from the moment they met. When his eyes locked with hers, it was as though he could see right down into her very soul.

But now, Peyton felt like their roles were reversed. It was she who was finally gaining a glimpse at the man beneath the mask. It was his eyes that revealed all the secrets and that gave her all the answers she needed to know.