Past Mackenzie
“You’re nothing but a stupid fucking bitch. Do you know that? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” The insult rolls off him with ease, twisting my insides into knots with each word.
“I’m sorry.” I try to placate him, still unsure what’s happening here. It’s not the first time he’s lost his temper or called me a name; in fact, it’s become a weekly occurrence the last few months, but tonight something’s changed. It’s like he’s come unhinged.
“You’re sorry? You’re always fucking sorry.” Spit hits my face, just above my eye, but I don’t reach up to wipe it. Fear freezes me, anchoring me in my place.
“I didn’t mean it, Chad.” The admission falls from my lips, but I still don’t understand why he’s so angry.
“You didn’t mean it?” His bark echoes around the confined space of the bathroom he’s cornered me in.
“No.” I shake my head. My mind races, cataloguing everything that transpired tonight.
We were at a benefit for his dad. Mayor Morre’s annual fundraiser. I was polite, stuck by Chad’s side all night, smiled and only spoke when spoken to. Exactly how he expects me to act. Judging by the state he’s in right now, I know I messed up somewhere during the night. I just don’t know where.
“Do you know how pathetic you looked? Like a fucking whore.” He continues to unleash his verbal abuse. I know they’re only words; I shouldn’t let them affect me, but each one tears away at my confidence. Tears away at the love we’ve shared.
“Do you want to fuck him?” His voice drips in venom, disgust chasing every word as he takes a step closer.
“Who, Chad?”
“WHO?” he shouts my reply back at me, as his hand comes out hard and fast across my face.
The bitter taste of copper fills my mouth, but I don’t have a second to register the blood pooling before his hand roughly takes my chin and forces me to look up at him.
“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” The question hangs in the air between us. I should try to put his mind at ease, deny everything and try to calm him down, but the ringing in my ears makes it hard for me to concentrate. He hasn’t hit me before. He’s come close a few times, but I’ve always managed to diffuse the situation.
“ANSWER ME, MACKENZIE!” My face is pushed with brute force, and I stumble back in fright. Tears roll down my cheeks, over my lips, and underneath my chin.
“N—No,” I cry out, my hand moving to my face, hoping to soothe the burning flesh.
“DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME!”
“I’m not,” I deny it again, but it’s not what he wants to hear. Before I figure out where I’m failing in easing his mind, his fist connects with my face. This time, the knock takes me back another step. The backs of my legs hit the coolness of the bathtub. He follows me back, his rage spilling out of him at a rapid pace and suffocating me. My unease turns to full-fledged fear. The hard reality this isn’t going to end well moves through my body at lightning speed.
“Please, Chad,” I cry, but the continuous flow of tears leaking from my eyes does nothing to convince him this isn’t who we are.
Before I can protect myself, Chad’s fist connects again.
Stars explode behind my eyes. The sensation of falling envelops me so swiftly I can’t find my bearings, and then everything goes black.
One
Mackenzie
“Excuse me, how much longer?” I swallow the quiver in my voice and pray it’s not much further.
“Five more minutes,” comes the reply. My hands shake at my side and my leg bounces to its own erratic beat while I sit in the back of a cab on my way to the only place I have left.
Rushford.
I have no idea what I’m doing, or if they will want to help me, but I have no other options and nowhere else to go.
I check my surroundings again before my eyes move back to the dashboard and the time displayed on the digital clock.
6:01 p.m.
“You sure I don’t know you from somewhere?” The older man driving the cab breaks the short silence and pulls me out of my head. His eyes find mine in the rear-view mirror and his graying brows bunch up, like he’s trying to figure out how exactly he knows me.
Jesus, please don’t let him figure it out.
Not wanting him to recognize me, I avert my gaze out the window.
“No, just making a pit stop in town.” The lie falls from my lips with ease and precision. It’s one of my best talents. The cool, calm and collected manner I’ve learned to hone and perfect over the years has always stayed with me.
“And your first stop is the Knights Rebels’ clubhouse?” I look back up at the disbelieving tone of my nosey cabbie, but don’t reply.
I know it’s probably the worst idea coming here, considering I’m so close to home, but if I have any hope of surviving this, I need them.
“Are you sure you’re okay, miss? You don’t look so good.”
“Yeah, I’m all right. Just have a bad headache.” I push all my conviction into my answer. The cab driver’s growing questions are putting me on edge, but I can’t lose it. Not yet. The old man takes the hint and quits with the interrogation. I’m almost relieved, until the scene back in Ohio starts playing out in my mind.
“I don’t think so, Mackenzie.” Chad races behind me, his hand snaking out, fisting my hair and pulling me back. “You and I have things we need to discuss,” he seethes, tightening his grip. I fight back, reaching over my shoulders and slapping him. He recoils, letting me go, but before I can pull away, he slaps me hard. A stinging sensation covers my cheek. I drop to the floor at his force, my towel falling away from my body, exposing me.
“You’re nothing but a stupid fucking bitch. Do you know that? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” The insult rolls off him with ease, twisting my insides into knots with each word.
“I’m sorry.” I try to placate him, still unsure what’s happening here. It’s not the first time he’s lost his temper or called me a name; in fact, it’s become a weekly occurrence the last few months, but tonight something’s changed. It’s like he’s come unhinged.
“You’re sorry? You’re always fucking sorry.” Spit hits my face, just above my eye, but I don’t reach up to wipe it. Fear freezes me, anchoring me in my place.
“I didn’t mean it, Chad.” The admission falls from my lips, but I still don’t understand why he’s so angry.
“You didn’t mean it?” His bark echoes around the confined space of the bathroom he’s cornered me in.
“No.” I shake my head. My mind races, cataloguing everything that transpired tonight.
We were at a benefit for his dad. Mayor Morre’s annual fundraiser. I was polite, stuck by Chad’s side all night, smiled and only spoke when spoken to. Exactly how he expects me to act. Judging by the state he’s in right now, I know I messed up somewhere during the night. I just don’t know where.
“Do you know how pathetic you looked? Like a fucking whore.” He continues to unleash his verbal abuse. I know they’re only words; I shouldn’t let them affect me, but each one tears away at my confidence. Tears away at the love we’ve shared.
“Do you want to fuck him?” His voice drips in venom, disgust chasing every word as he takes a step closer.
“Who, Chad?”
“WHO?” he shouts my reply back at me, as his hand comes out hard and fast across my face.
The bitter taste of copper fills my mouth, but I don’t have a second to register the blood pooling before his hand roughly takes my chin and forces me to look up at him.
“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” The question hangs in the air between us. I should try to put his mind at ease, deny everything and try to calm him down, but the ringing in my ears makes it hard for me to concentrate. He hasn’t hit me before. He’s come close a few times, but I’ve always managed to diffuse the situation.
“ANSWER ME, MACKENZIE!” My face is pushed with brute force, and I stumble back in fright. Tears roll down my cheeks, over my lips, and underneath my chin.
“N—No,” I cry out, my hand moving to my face, hoping to soothe the burning flesh.
“DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME!”
“I’m not,” I deny it again, but it’s not what he wants to hear. Before I figure out where I’m failing in easing his mind, his fist connects with my face. This time, the knock takes me back another step. The backs of my legs hit the coolness of the bathtub. He follows me back, his rage spilling out of him at a rapid pace and suffocating me. My unease turns to full-fledged fear. The hard reality this isn’t going to end well moves through my body at lightning speed.
“Please, Chad,” I cry, but the continuous flow of tears leaking from my eyes does nothing to convince him this isn’t who we are.
Before I can protect myself, Chad’s fist connects again.
Stars explode behind my eyes. The sensation of falling envelops me so swiftly I can’t find my bearings, and then everything goes black.
One
Mackenzie
“Excuse me, how much longer?” I swallow the quiver in my voice and pray it’s not much further.
“Five more minutes,” comes the reply. My hands shake at my side and my leg bounces to its own erratic beat while I sit in the back of a cab on my way to the only place I have left.
Rushford.
I have no idea what I’m doing, or if they will want to help me, but I have no other options and nowhere else to go.
I check my surroundings again before my eyes move back to the dashboard and the time displayed on the digital clock.
6:01 p.m.
“You sure I don’t know you from somewhere?” The older man driving the cab breaks the short silence and pulls me out of my head. His eyes find mine in the rear-view mirror and his graying brows bunch up, like he’s trying to figure out how exactly he knows me.
Jesus, please don’t let him figure it out.
Not wanting him to recognize me, I avert my gaze out the window.
“No, just making a pit stop in town.” The lie falls from my lips with ease and precision. It’s one of my best talents. The cool, calm and collected manner I’ve learned to hone and perfect over the years has always stayed with me.
“And your first stop is the Knights Rebels’ clubhouse?” I look back up at the disbelieving tone of my nosey cabbie, but don’t reply.
I know it’s probably the worst idea coming here, considering I’m so close to home, but if I have any hope of surviving this, I need them.
“Are you sure you’re okay, miss? You don’t look so good.”
“Yeah, I’m all right. Just have a bad headache.” I push all my conviction into my answer. The cab driver’s growing questions are putting me on edge, but I can’t lose it. Not yet. The old man takes the hint and quits with the interrogation. I’m almost relieved, until the scene back in Ohio starts playing out in my mind.
“I don’t think so, Mackenzie.” Chad races behind me, his hand snaking out, fisting my hair and pulling me back. “You and I have things we need to discuss,” he seethes, tightening his grip. I fight back, reaching over my shoulders and slapping him. He recoils, letting me go, but before I can pull away, he slaps me hard. A stinging sensation covers my cheek. I drop to the floor at his force, my towel falling away from my body, exposing me.
