A Cross to Bear

by Julieanne Lynch

  “And Ethan doesn’t have some hidden agenda?” I quipped.

  “Ethan should be the least of your worries,” he snapped. “I’d concentrate more on the affairs of the heart. Jenny is making it her business to send a little message to Bree. I’d be a little concerned if she was mine, but alas, she isn’t.”

  I didn’t like how cold Tommy became when he referred to Bree. I didn’t like the idle threat made on Jenny’s behalf either, and I certainly couldn’t stomach being in his company a moment longer. I poured the coffee down the sink and grabbed my coat.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “You boys have clean-up duty once Ethan has checked your buddy’s diaper.”

  For a brief moment, I would have taken great pleasure in knocking the smug smile off his face, but I knew better than to react hastily. Especially when he was the team captain, and that wouldn’t have looked good on my resume.

  Back out in the yard, Ethan was busy rounding up the herd.

  Many of my pledge class looked worse for wear, Spence being the worst. He couldn’t contain the need to puke and vomited as he lagged behind the rest.

  Drake was the last to be stirred from his drunken stupor. Groggy and unsteady on his feet, he almost fell over several times, resulting in a few jeers from the rest of the house brothers.

  I wrapped an arm around his waist and made sure he was supported when Ethan stepped onto the bottom step of the veranda that led to the back of the house.

  “How’s everyone doing this bright Sunday morning?” Ethan shouted, grinning broadly. “Good! No harm done.”

  Fucking prick, I cursed, keeping my opinion to myself.

  “Tiny Tim.” He gestured for Drake to step forward. “Let’s check the fruits of your labor, shall we?”

  I couldn’t believe it. He was going through with removing the diaper and checking its contents. Sickened by Ethan’s brazen display, I almost cried when Drake was made to remove the diaper and left standing there in the yard with all of his modesty on parade.

  Several members of my pledge class shook their heads, looking mortified. Others had clear relief etched on their faces.

  I looked at Tommy and saw him recoiling in his own discomfort.

  “Tiny Tim delivered, boys,” Ethan declared. “You know what this means, don’t ya? You have the rest of the day off, but make sure you clean the shit up before you leave. Oh, and Tiny Tim.” He directed his gaze to Drake. “Throw this shit out, pronto.”

  Drake took the soiled diaper from Ethan, and threw it into the trash before disappearing inside.

  “Now chant after me,” Ethan shouted. “What happens in Greek, stays in Greek!”

  Like a bunch of buffoons, everyone erupted into chants, jeers and laughter.

  It brought to mind something my mother had said to me when I was younger. “Good people can do awful things to one another for absolutely no reason.” She couldn’t have been more right.

  * * * *

  Drake refused to talk about what had happened. The damage had been done, but he was a man of very few words when he became withdrawn.

  I wanted to confess to him how much I hated the whole idea of pledging and that I wished I could pull out.

  Spence broke the silence that surrounded us once we were back in our room. “I think these tests are just there to whittle out the weak. Those of us who can hack it make it. It’s as simple as that. I called my father and told him I’d pledged. He was surprised, but said it would be the making of me. So, I guess the thing is, do the three of us have what it takes to survive and make the grade?”

  I ran my hands through my hair and sat forward, staring at the ground. “Man, I don’t know if I can stomach whatever else these assholes decide to unleash on us. There was no need for Drake to be degraded like that. You know something? I think Drake is going to be targeted a lot more.”

  “Listen, Logan,” Drake said. “I’m a big boy. If I survived last night, I can survive anything. Stop trying to baby me. I’m good to go.”

  Drake grabbed his bag before he left our room.

  “Well, I guess that’s me getting told,” I remarked.

  “Listen, man, give him a few days. It’s an adjustment thing.” Spence’s eyes bored into mine.

  “Whatever,” I said, and lay down on the bed. “I’ve the mother of all hangovers. I don’t want to have to think. Not until class tomorrow.”

  Spence threw a pillow at me before diving under his blanket.

  It wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep. Several hours later, my phone rang. For the second time in a row, I ignored it, until Spence swore at me.

  “Fuck, answer the damn thing!”

  I was suffering from major DTs. My hand shook as I answered the phone. “Yup!”

  “Logan,” my father’s firm voice said.

  “Why are you calling me?” I asked, trying to rub my fingers against my temples in an attempt to stop the pounding headache throbbing behind my eyeballs.

  “We have a possible situation.”

  That got my attention. “What? Is it Mom? Is something wrong at home?”

  “No, your mother and the girls are fine,” he replied, his tone never once changing pitch. “This is of a more delicate nature.”

  “Dad, I don’t have time for riddles.”

  “It seems we’ve been photographed together, and the New York Times will be running a story in tomorrow’s paper.”

  I sat up, not quite understanding what he was saying. “What? How?”

  “Those details haven’t been released, but my press manager believes we need to issue a statement before the tabloids begin running their own smear campaign.”

  That wasn’t the kind of news I wanted or needed to hear. Not now, not when my head ached. And certainly not when I’d begun my academic career.

  “Which means?” I already knew the answer to the question, but wanted clarity, nonetheless.

  “Logan, we both know what this means,” he replied, his voice somewhat softer.

  “What do I need to do?” I asked, full of anxiety.

  “You need to prepare those in your inner circle before the news hits the headlines. There will be a press release this evening. I will publicly acknowledge my paternity. In the coming days, my press secretary will be in touch with you. I presume you’ll be bombarded with a lot of media attention. I’ll contact the university director and coordinate the appropriate security measures for you.”

  Alarm bells sounded inside my head. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Things weren’t meant to be this way. Yet my father, Mr. Fucking President, had been the one to screw it all up.

  “My life is so fucked up,” I said. “My mom and the girls… So much backlash!”

  “Logan, you need to calm down and think like a man.” He sounded like his usual controlled and calm self.

  “How? This is my life, Dad. People are going to flip over this.”

  “Logan, I can assure you that life will carry on. Things will have shifted, but it’s up to you to continue the path you’re on. At the end of the day, I was your father long before I became the president. That role has never changed.”

  This was my father, the placid man the world loved. A part of me wondered what was going on inside his head.

  “Does Mom know?” I asked.

  “Yes, she’s being briefed right now.”

  “Oh my God, she’s probably flipping out.” I cringed, thinking of my poor mother being berated by reporters.

  “Your mother has a strong constitution, son. There’s no need to worry about her.” My father did have a point. “I’ll be in touch. Remember, keep your chin up and your emotions intact. And above all else, don’t talk to the press without my team’s prior consent.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Goodbye.”

  My father ended the call.

  Reality decided to hit me straight in the face. The best part was, I didn’t know whether I needed to puke or shit myself. Either was possible.

/>   Looking over at Spence, he didn’t pretend that he’d not been listening the whole time. He wasn’t one to shy away from asking the obvious.

  “I guess the question is, when are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He was straight to the point.

  I held my hands behind my head, silently praying for the balls not to mess up everything.

  “I need to tell you guys something,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Can you get in touch with Drake? I’ll get Bree over here.”

  “Is it serious?” he asked with a hint of worry.

  I sighed and shook my head. “That all depends on you guys.”

  Twenty minutes later, Bree, Spence, and Drake sat before me, listening to me mumble.

  “So… There’s something I need to tell you guys,” I began. “I’ve this thing…” I picked at the skin around my fingernails, nerves getting the better of me.

  “Come on, man, spit it out. I’m dying and I need to sleep,” Drake said, looking worse for wear.

  Bree kept staring at me, trying to figure out what was going on. She shook her head every few seconds, trying to coax me to talk.

  “Okay, so…there’s going to be some news hitting soon. Well, no, not like that, erm…” I scratched my head. “My father is going to be on the news later.”

  “Whoa, is he an anchorman?” Spence asked, his eyes lighting up.

  “No, Spence.” I shook my head. “I never thought I’d have to tell anyone this. I never thought it important.”

  “Oh my God!” Bree said. “What’s going on?”

  “The president will be on the news later, making a statement before a story runs in the New York Times tomorrow,” I said, trying my best not to lose control. “Addressing the fact that a reporter was tipped off about a son he’s never publicly spoken about before. Not until now.”

  Open-mouthed, all three of my friends sat in silence, unsure of how to react.

  “Guys, President Belanger is my father. Once the news hits, everything is going to get crazy around here.” The tension inside me eased once the words slid past my lips.

  Bree stared at me with confusion, her beautiful eyes never once leaving my face.

  Drake raised his eyebrows and sipped on a bottle of water.

  Spence burst into laughter. “Are you for fucking real?”

  I nodded and sat down on my bed. I glanced at each of them, wondering what was going through all of their minds.

  “My father will be addressing the nation later,” I said. “Because once the story runs tomorrow, I guess life will change. Not that I want it to, but…it’s not every day the president airs his dirty laundry in public.”

  “Man, you’re serious!” Drake remarked.

  “Yup.”

  “Wow,” Bree said. “I guess I’m not the only one with secrets.”

  “Bree, that’s not fair!”

  “No, but still, you should have told me. At least I would have been prepared.” Bree looked pissed.

  “Listen, guys, I never told anyone,” I said. “Even before he decided to run for office, my father kept a low profile. It was always for my benefit, as well as my sisters’. I guess my parents never thought that some snooping reporter would catch wind of my existence.”

  “It’s still a dickish move not to mention any of this to us before now,” Drake said, looking at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But right now my main concern is my family back home, not to mention how this is going to rock the boat here.”

  Spence seemed to be the only one capable of separating his emotions from the facts. “I think Logan has a fair point. None of us really owes it to anyone to talk about who our parents are. He never thought he’d have to tell us, so what? Now some piece of shit has done the dirty on him, which we all know is going to cause a bit of drama. We’re his friends. We owe it to him to back him up.”

  “I’m sorry,” Drake said. “I’m just tired, man.”

  “It’s okay, I get it. I really do.” I smiled at him.

  “So does this mean we get privileges now?” Spence asked, a huge grin spreading across his face.

  “If anyone is getting privileges, it’s me,” Bree butted in, smirking.

  “We’re on the swim team. We’re teammates. I get first dibs on those liberties,” Drake chimed in, pointing at Bree and Spence.

  “Hey, guys, there’s enough to go around.” I held up my hands and laughed.

  “One thing, Logan,” Bree said. “Have you mentioned any of this to Tommy?”

  That had been a slight oversight on my behalf. It would soon bite me in the ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bree couldn’t believe Logan’s revelation. She kept looking at him, then at the TV screen, noticing the resemblance. The green eyes, the same build and mannerisms—everything. Logan was so much like his father, though she’d never noticed it until now.

  As the president delivered his address, Bree noticed Logan couldn’t bring himself to look at the TV screen. Instead, he chose to stare at his phone. “Great,” Logan mumbled. He rose to his feet and stepped toward the door, leaning against it.

  Bree got up from the bed and strolled over to Logan. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. He needed a little TLC, considering how rough things had been the past few days.

  Instant remorse consumed her for being a bitch earlier. He needed to know that she didn’t blame him for not wanting the world and all her bitches to know who his father was. She gazed into his eyes before kissing his cheek.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I just wanted to,” she replied, resting her head against his chest.

  “Are you okay with all this?”

  “Logan, I don’t give a crap about who your father is. I love you, not him.”

  They kissed.

  It wasn’t long before Drake and Spence stared in their direction. The look on their faces said there would be many questions.

  “Boys, back off. He’s mine for the night,” Bree declared, marking her territory.

  “Technically, this is my room,” Spence said, trying not to laugh.

  “Well, half of it,” Logan replied, and sniggered.

  “Hey,” Drake said, grabbing Spence by the arm. “How about we go grab some dinner, listen to the gossip, and give the lovebirds a little privacy?”

  “Aww, man, you have to go and ruin all the fun! I had a whole list of things I wanted to ask.” Spence pouted, but soon changed his mind. “Do I get to play sleuth for the night?”

  “Yes, Sherlock, you can be lead detective.” Drake laughed.

  “Awesome.”

  Spence grabbed his bag, a set of clean clothes, and winked at Logan and Bree. Both he and Drake left the room, whispering and chuckling. Bree finally had Logan to herself. During the course of the past few days, things had changed between them. As much as she wanted to run to him whenever her life got out of hand, Bree needed to give Logan the space to digest what she’d told him.

  Now, more than ever before, Bree knew that Logan was a part of her life. She didn’t want to risk losing him, even if he had his own little secrets.

  She laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on to him. “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too,” Logan replied with a smile.

  Bree held on to Logan, enjoying the closeness, the love, and the forgiveness coming from him.

  Bree tilted her head back and ran a hand through Logan’s hair, dragging his face down to hers. Their noses brushed together. She opened her mouth, breathing hard

  Logan smiled and sucked her lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently.

  Bree pulled her head away from him. “What are you smiling at?”

  “You,” Logan said, pressing her up against the door.

  Logan didn’t give her time to respond. His tongue slid over hers, the moisture and tension building between them. He lifted the hem of her skirt, sliding a hand beneath it in sear
ch of her panties. He ran his hands over her ass, his eyes burning with a desire that couldn’t be ignored.

  “You’re mine now,” he whispered, pushing her panties down over her knees and dropping them to the floor. He then pushed her legs apart.

  With one hand, Logan undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped his jeans.

  Bree pushed at the waistband, helping him as his erection sprang forward. She took him in her hand, stroking his shaft, enjoying the way he felt between her fingers.

  “I want you in me, fucking me hard,” Bree murmured, staring into his eyes, jerking his cock and licking her lips.

  Logan pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  Bree ran her nails down over his hard chest, leaving a small trail. She wanted him inside her, filling her, driving all the pain of the past away, reviving her with the hope of new love and desire. She lifted one of her legs and wrapped it around Logan’s waist, pulling him toward her.

  Logan held his cock at the entrance to her wet pussy and plowed inside her, pushing her hard against the door. He drove into her time and time again, her bucking hips meeting each thrust.

  Bree gasped and ran her hands through his hair.

  Logan held her hard against him.

  “Ah,” Bree moaned, her orgasm rising to the surface.

  Their pace grew frantic.

  She screamed as the first orgasm hit her. Her body shuddered against Logan’s.

  He drove into her even harder.

  As the orgasm subsided, he slowed and gazed into her eyes. “I want you from behind,” he said, pulling out of her. He bent her over the front of the desk, running his hand over her round ass. Logan rubbed the tip of his cock over her pussy, teasing her clit until she smiled and turned to look at him. He placed the head of his cock at the opening of her slit and drove himself deep inside her with one hard stroke.

  Bree moaned, closing her eyes at the sudden invasion. The sensation overcame her completely. She rocked her ass back against him, encouraging him to fuck her hard and deep.

  Logan fucked her from behind. His balls smacked against her, his nails digging into her ass.