A/N: After thirty-seven chapters, Peyton finally discovers the truth! Now what?

All That She Wants

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Brooke fingered the edge of crimson cover of the book in front of her. The smooth wrap was slightly textured, so she could feel the raised outlines of the letters beneath her fingertips: The Da Vinci Code. She began to strum her fingers along the shifty eyes of the Mona Lisa for the nth time.

"Miss?"

"Huh?" the brunette tilted her head to the side, noticing a young woman with cropped red hair standing a few feet away. "Yes?" she instinctively corrected, upon being yanked from her reverie.

"We're closing in five minutes."

"Wh – you are?" Brooke looked to her wrist, only to realize she wasn't wearing a watch. "It's that late already?"

"I'm sorry…" the redhead replied awkwardly. "Are you, uh, waiting on someone? Do you have a ride?"

Brooke shifted uneasily in her seat. "Yeah, a friend of mine was supposed to pick me up…a while ago."

"You've been here quite a while-"

"Yeah, well, I got off earlier than expected. I left my ride a message, but I'm not sure if she got it or not. I haven't heard from her since this morning, so…"

"Do you have a phone? When was the last time you called her?"

"I ran out of pocket change about an hour ago."

"If you'd like to use our phone, you're more than welcome."

Brooke smiled meekly. "That'd be great, thank you!" she stood and followed the redhead to the counter.

"Just dial zero first."

"Sure." Brooke's fingers fumbled against the keys. Her stomach was growling, her feet were aching and swollen, and she thought she could also feel the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes. After several rings, she heard the systematic drone of Peyton's voice on her answering machine. "Hey, it's me again. You're really beginning to worry me, P. Sawyer. You were supposed to pick me up tonight, remember? Are you okay? I'm at the bookstore in the mall right now, they're about to close…I hope you're on your way. Bye."

As she dropped the receiver back into its cradle, she heard the giddy sounds of laughter at the counter and looked up to see the redhead waiting on two recognizable faces: "Jake? H-Haley?"

Haley's head snapped up at the sound of Brooke's voice and her jaw dropped a bit. "Brooke!"

The humor drained from Jake's face. "B-Brooke. When did – how – I didn't see you-"

"I was just using the phone." She skirted around the counter, with a burn in her cheeks that she attempted to hide behind her sheets of dark hair. "What are you guys doing here?"

Haley slid her hand across the counter and held up copy of The Turning of the Screw. "Jake needed it for an extra credit essay he's working on."

"With everything going on, I didn't get to finish two of my classes; I got an 'Incomplete' in English, so Hales is helping me make it up this summer."

"I was going to loan him my own copy, but I can't seem to find it and-"

"They're all checked out at the library." Jake turned his head away to swipe his debit card and then shifted his eyes back to Brooke as the computer began to print his receipt. "What about you?"

"I've just been waiting here since I got off work, waiting for Peyton. I'm starting to get worried; she was supposed to pick me up hours ago."

Jake looked to the clock on the wall as the cashier handed him his receipt. "Do you need a ride?"

Brooke smiled sheepishly. "I don't want to put you out of your way…"

"It's okay," Jake offered. "My parents are home with Jenny. Haley and I were going to pick a pizza up on the way home anyway, it's not too far from Peyton's."

"Well, if you're sure-"

"Come on," Jake nodded, with a wave of his hand.

Brooke bit her lip. Although Jake spoke with a smile, she could still smell the tension between them, thick as fudge pudding. "Thanks."

"So how's the kid's store?" Jake asked as they left the bookstore. "Haley mentioned you got a job there."

"Did she?" Brooke glanced to Haley, who merely smiled. "Sounds like you hang out a lot then, huh?"

"I tutor him a lot."

"I've missed a lot of school before of Jenny."

"Sure. Yeah, well, yeah, it's fine," she stuttered. "Good boss, not too laborious, if you know what I mean. It's better than what a lot of people in my position usually get. How's Jenny?" she asked, as Jake opened the back door to his car for her.

"She's great!" Jake beamed, momentarily breaking the awkwardness with sincerity. "She's smiling all the time now."

"Except for at night," Haley laughed. "She's so stubborn, she hates bedtime. She wants to stay up with Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa."

Jake chuckled as they pulled out of the parking lot. "So Haley wrote her this amazing bedtime song that puts her to sleep like…" he lifted his hand from the wheel and snapped his fingers, "…that."

From the backseat, Brooke shifted her eyes to the back of Haley's head. "You wrote a song?"

Haley turned around, her cheeks obviously blushing, even in the darkness of the car. "Oh, yeah, I've kind of always had a thing for music," she squeaked. "Piano…the guitar…" she suddenly pointed to Jake. "Did you know Jake plays the guitar too?"

Brooke cast her eyes into her lap. "Yeah," she sighed, thinking back to the time Jake had sung to her in his room. "He's really talented."

"I know! He tries to tell me he isn't, but he's got so much potential! Might even be a better singer than he is a basketball player." She playfully slugged his arm as he drove. "You could on tour one day! Can't you imagine?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "That's no life for Jenny. She needs a stable home, not a tour bus."

"Well," Haley replied, a bit uncomfortably, "whatever you do, one thing's certain: you've got talent." She twisted in her seat to look back at Brooke. "How about you, Brooke? I haven't seen you much since we put together your resume. Are you and the baby doing alright?"

Brooke laid her hand to her belly. "Fine."

"Do you know whether it's a girl or boy yet?"

"No. I don't have the insurance for doctor's appointments anymore."

Haley squirmed. "Aren't there some free or discounted health clinics you could look into?"

"I have no idea-"

"If you want, I could look into it-"

"No," Brooke shook her head. "I'm sure you'll be pretty busy helping Jake play catch up this summer, so it's fine. Thanks for the suggestion, I'll do it myself."

"Sure. Let me know if anything pans out, alright?" She turned back around, to face the window shield. "Did you want to stop and get pizza with us?"

Brooke rubbed her belly. The pains of hunger had doubled since they left the bookstore, but she defiantly shook her head. "No. Peyton and I were planning a little pig out this evening," she lied.

On cue, Jake rolled up to the curb by Peyton's house. "It looks like her car's here," he said suspiciously.

"And there's a light up there," Haley noted with a pointed finger towards Peyton's bedroom window.

"Do you want us to walk in with you?" Jake questioned, his voice tinged with worry.

"Um…" Brooke eased out of the car. A heavy feeling was weighing in her belly, but she couldn't figure out why. "No, that's okay. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation. Thanks for the ride!" She shut the door and hurried up to the front door, fumbling through her purse for a moment before retrieving Peyton's house key and opening it up. She flipped on the light and waved to Jake and Haley, before slipping into the house and closing the door.

Everything was eerily silent as she moved through the house. "Peyton?" The house was freezing, as if the heater hadn't been on for hours. "Peyton, you here?" she began to ascend the stairs, starting to wonder if she should've taken Jake up on his offer. She could see the glow of the light from Peyton's room at the top of the stairs and quickened her step until she reached the top. "P-Peyton?" she called into the open air. She shuffled towards the door and stepped in, expecting to find Peyton on the bed.

She did not find Peyton. Instead, her skin turned corpse cold as her eyes locked onto the television, the only source of light in the room. On the screen, tangled nakedly into each other, were her and Nathan, on that fateful night at the beach house. Although it was muted, every breath, moan, noise, and word from that night resounded in Brooke's head. She staggered backwards towards the door, where she bumped into something soft and vaguely warm. Brooke spun around in terror, to find Peyton in the doorway, with the blue haze of the television reflecting on her pale face and blonde curls, making her look sickly, perhaps even dead.

Peyton silently lifted her arm, revealing the control to the television, and pressed her thumb down. Instantly, the sound blew from the speakers at the loudest volume the television allowed.

Brooke slammed her hands to her ears as the sounds of her orgasm raped her ears, followed immediately by Nathan's climax. She closed her eyes, refusing to watch the screen, but as the sounds billowed in her ears, the corresponding images consumed her mind's eye.

"Fu-ck!" Nathan panted.

Brooke's head sunk into her pillow as she felt Nathan pull out of her and sit up, towards the camera. She stared at the physical damage she'd inflected on his back and then grabbed the sheet, pulled it around her torso, and sat up. She pressed her hand to Nathan's ribbed chest and pulled it up to his neck and around to right cheek. She leaned her face forward, resting it on Nathan's shoulder, and beamed in the afterglow at the camera lens. She angled her head and began to nibble at Nathan's earlobe, before applying pressure to his head and turning his face to hers. "You wanna go again, baby?"

"I'm spent," he replied, even as Brooke scooted behind him and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"After one go?" Brooke taunted. "Turn off the camera, I'll show you want 'spent' really feels like!" She pitched forward and flicked the button, ending the recording.

Brooke felt like vomiting. She couldn't bear to open her eyes and face her best friend. And just when she thought it was over, she heard Nathan's voice again.

"Done."

Her eyes flashed open, realizing in horror that the recording was on a loop.

"Hold on! I can't believe I'm doing this. I would die if anybody saw this, Nathan!"

"Don't worry, nobody will ever know."

Unable to take it again, Brooke charged the television and ripped the plug from the wall, watching in momentary relief as the screen popped and faded to black. The darkness of the room afforded her a few moments of privacy, before the lights burned to life, blinding her as though she were in an interrogation room. She shoved to her forehead, shielding herself from the light. From beneath her arm, she could see Peyton's shoes and legs, up to her knees. When her eyes had adjusted enough to the light, she carefully peeled her arm away and tilted her head back to look into Peyton's tear stained eyes.