Chapter 9

Mia

Her heart…

ACOUPLE OF DAYS LATER, I pull up to the one house I never thought I would step foot in again. The outside looks much the same as it looked all those years ago, except for a few changes here and there. It looks as though there may be a fresh coat of paint as well. This used to be one of my favorite places to be. Now, I dread every second I sit here.

I didn't tell Mac I was coming. To be honest, I debated with myself the entire time I was behind the wheel. I stopped a couple times to turn around, knowing I was going to regret coming here. I'm feeling a whirl of emotions: fear of the unknown, anger at Mac for dredging up the past, and worry that something may change once Mac tells me what he has to tell me. My mind is waging a war with my heart. I desperately want to know, but I'm also scared.

Pulling in a deep breath, I shut off my car and get out. As usual, I don't bother locking the door. I see Mac's charcoal-gray truck parked at the side of the house. There is also a red older-style Monte Carlo. I wonder whose it is and think about turning around again. I don't want to disturb him if he's busy. I change my mind when I think about his adamancy on speaking with me. I've worked up the courage to come here so he can damn well tell me now, not later.

As I make my way to the front porch, I glance over to the left and notice a horse grazing in the pasture. It makes me wonder if Mac still has Marabelle. She was a beautiful brown-and-white mustang I always rode when Mac and I went out horseback riding.

Sadness and nostalgia hit me, but I force the feelings down.

When I step onto the porch, I see that, again, not much has changed. Memories of Mac and me on the porch swing wrapped in a blanket come to the surface.

Shit!

I knew this was a bad idea. It's already hard enough as it is without all the damn memories popping up.

I pull the screen door open and knock twice, bound and determined to get this done and over with so I can leave. I see a silhouette through the curtain hanging on the door before it swings open. What greets me has my breath freezing in my lungs and my heart faltering. My stomach immediately cramps and it takes everything I have to not turn around and run away.

"Who is it, T?" Mac's deep voice comes from somewhere in the house.

"It's Mia, Dad," Trent "T" says over his shoulder in a bored voice.

I stand there and stare at Mac's son with my heart in my throat until Mac appears beside him. The look in his eyes tells me he knows this hurts. I also see guilt and what looks like something that resembles worry, which makes me wonder why.

It doesn't take me long to find out why. A few seconds later, I hear another voice. This voice sends shivers down my back and has me clenching my fists. The voice is attached to one of the people I hate most in the world, one of the ones who destroyed all my dreams in one go. I want nothing more than to charge in the house and lay the woman out. She took everything from me and never received any retribution for it.

"Mac, I need you to…," Tessa says as she rounds the corner. She stops when she sees me, and her eyes go hard. If it weren't for her conniving and deceitful ways—and I know what went down with her and Mac included deceit on her part—I would say she's beautiful. She has golden-blonde hair that reaches just past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes are at a seductive slant. If it weren't for the hatred emitting from them right now, I would say they were pretty. Her body is, I guess you could say, full in all the right places. I personally find her one of the ugliest people I've ever encountered. But that's just me. I know her true nature. In high school, boys flocked her way. They were all horny and knew she was a sure bet. Although she dated many of them, and slept with many more, I never missed the heated looks she sent Mac's way. It pissed her off that I had him and she had no chance. In the end though, she won. She got her chance with Mac and took everything that was supposed to be mine, even our child.

She walks up to stand beside Mac. "What in the hell is she doing here?"

"T, go back in the house." After Trent walks away, he says to Tessa, still looking at me, "That's none of your business, Tessa. It's time for you to go." The guilt is still in his eyes, but I also see anger slipping through.

"I beg to differ. My son is here and I don't want—"

She doesn't get the chance to finish before Mac interrupts her. "He's my son too and when he's here I say who he's around."

"You know what?" I interrupt before they can continue. "I'm leaving. We'll talk later, Mac."

When I turn to go, Mac grabs my arm to stop me. "No, you stay. She's leaving."

Tessa sputters for a minute before she finds her voice. "You've lost your mind if you think I'm leaving my son here if she's going to be here as well."

She's really starting to piss me off. She makes it sound like she is the injured party. The last time I checked, it was her pussy that Mac fucked on my eighteenth birthday. It was her he gave his virginity to, not me. What in the hell does she have to be pissed for?

Just as I'm about to voice my opinion on what I think of her skank ass, Mac steps up into Tessa's face without releasing my arm.

"This is my house, my rules. You are the one who called this morning asking me to take T for the week. You know I have no problem with that. I love having my boy with me. But you don't come to my house forbidding anyone from entering it. You've fucked me over too many times in the past in regards to my time with him. It's time for you to leave."

I watch as Tessa faces off with Mac. The look in his eyes is hard. He's pissed and isn't afraid to show it. I don't know much about their current situation. What I do know is that their relationship didn't last long and it ended on a bang. I couldn't help but feel satisfaction when I found out they were splitting up.

"Fine, whatever," she says, with narrowed eyes. "You better watch her around him."

I take a step toward her, ready to have my own face-off, but Mac pulls me back and wraps an arm around my waist. I really want to lay in to her, but it's not my business what goes on between Mac, her, and their son. I have to force myself not to say anything.

"What the fuck do you think she's going to do, Tessa?" Mac asks. I'm curious about her answer as well.

"There's no telling what lies she'll plant in his head," she says with a glare in my direction, and that's what sets me off. Yanking myself from Mac's side, I get up in Tessa's face. Satisfaction rears its head when I see fear in her eyes. I know my own eyes reflect pissed-off vibes. And that's exactly what I am. Pissed! She's taller than me by a few inches but I've got anger and adrenaline on my side and she knows it.

"Who in the hell do you think you are? What lies am I going to tell him? That you were a conniving bitch back in high school, and still are? Or, how about because you were jealous you fucked my boyfriend when he wasn't yours to have? Those aren't lies, Tessa. Those are stone-cold facts. But you know what? I won't have to tell Trent. In time he'll find out what a true cunt you really are."

"Why, you little bi—" she starts, but doesn't get a chance to finish before Mac cuts in.

"That's enough!" he barks at both of us.

Her eyes are cold when they stare back into mine. Pure hate radiates from her, but that's okay, because I know the same hatred emits from me as well.

I feel Mac pull me back again and I let him, done with my rant. Tessa doesn't say anything, but I know she wants to. Huffing and puffing, she marches past us and out the door. Once she steps off the porch, she turns. "Have T ready at noon on Friday," she says, and marches to her car. We watch as she speeds down the driveway.

I pull myself from Mac's arm and turn to face him. I see a tic in his jaw and I know he's still mad. The feeling is entirely mutual. How dare that bitch imply I would say something to T about what happened back in high school. He's a kid, for Christ's sake! I'm also pissed that I put myself in a situation where I'm faced with Mac's son and his cuntcake of a mother.

"What are you doing here, Mia?" he asks. I can't tell if some of his anger is directed toward me or if I'm just in the vicinity and therefore in its path. His question pisses me off even more.

"I came here so we could have this so-called talk you've been begging me to have. I'm thinking now it was a mistake and I should go. I wouldn't want to taint your son with my presence." I finish on a sneer. I know it's not fair to be pissed at him for what Tessa said, but I can't help but feel resentment toward him for her being here. I also know it's unfair because he has to associate with her because of Trent. I harbor no ill feelings toward Trent, but it still hurts to look at him. He's a reminder of all I lost.

"That's bullshit and you know it. You know I don't feel that way so don't try to pull that shit. Yes, I want to talk to you but I know being around T is hard on you. I want to avoid adding to your pain. You should have called me before coming over."

It's true, I should have called him, but I had no idea they would be here. She lives several towns over, and as far as I know, doesn't come here very often, or at least I haven't seen much of her in Jaded Hollow.

"It doesn't matter. Clearly, this isn't a good time. I'll call next time." I turn to walk away but he stops me.

"No, wait just a damn minute. You're here, we may as well talk now. I'll set T up in his room with his Xbox and we'll talk in the living room. There's no telling the next opportunity I'll get."

He's right. My decision to hear what he has to say is wavering. Seeing Tessa again has brought back the old anger. And seeing Trent and everything he represents has caused the pain to resurface. I don't know if I'll find the courage again.

Making my decision and hoping it's the right one, I walk into the living room. When I enter the large room, I see Trent sitting on a dark brown sectional sofa, playing some type of handheld game. Another sharp pain hits my chest at the sight of him. I turn and face the sliding glass door that leads to the back porch. I feel guilty that I can't even look at him. He's just a kid and is in no way at fault. It's just simply too painful.

I hear Mac enter the living room behind me. "Hey, T, come with me. I'm going to set up the game in your room while Mia and I talk for a bit."

In the reflection of the glass, I watch as Trent swings his head back and forth between the two of us before he asks, "Why?"

"Doesn't matter why, kid, just do as I say. Grab the console and let's go." His tone brooks no argument.

I hear some grumbling before Trent gets up and grabs the console from beside the massive TV and walks out of the living room with Mac trailing behind him.

Once they leave, I take the opportunity to look around. The place looks different from the last time I was here. Turning to my right, I see a big fireplace. On one side is a bookshelf that has a shit-ton of books and CD and DVD cases. One shelf is filled with picture frames. I make my way over to it, curious as to what he has displayed.

The first picture I see is of Mac in his teens. His parents are on either side of him. His dad has his hand on his shoulder. Mac is already taller than his mom and he has his arm thrown over her shoulders with her head resting on his. All three are smiling and seem happy.

I move on to the next picture. This one is of Mac holding baby Trent. Trent couldn't be any more than a few days old. Mac has the biggest grin on his face and you can tell by his expression that he's a very proud daddy. I look away when I feel sadness and anger seeping in at the thought of him sharing that with someone else.

The next picture has me catching my breath. It's of me and Mac on Marabelle. It was the first time I had ever ridden her. I'm sitting in front of Mac and he has his arms wrapped around me, holding the reins. His head is resting right next to mine while he explains how to direct a horse. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had always been fascinated with horses, and always wanted to learn to ride one, but had never gotten the opportunity. When Mac found this out he rectified the situation immediately. I loved it right away. And what made it even more special was that I got to have Mac's arms wrapped around me. I remember feeling so safe and warm. Butterflies were swarming in my stomach and my heart rate picked up when he swung up behind me and put his arms around me and his thighs on either side of mine. We were still in the simple kissing phase of our relationship.

I reach up and run my fingers across the frame. We were both so happy back then. The world was at our fingertips and I still had my dreams of having Mac at my side forever. I was so innocent back then and Mac was one of the sweetest guys I knew. I loved him with everything I had and was willing to do anything to make him happy.

A throat clearing behind me brings me back to reality. I turn and see Mac watching me intently. He's leaning casually against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks me.

"Sure. Got any beer?"

His lips quirk up on one side. "Yep."

He pushes off from the wall and starts across the living room. I follow him through a doorway and enter a medium-size kitchen. Although the layout is the same, the appliances and design are different than the last time I was in here. The appliances are new, but still have an old-fashioned feel. Instead of the flowered wallpaper that used to decorate the walls, it's now painted a soft blue. There's a border at the top that features different breeds of horses. The table is the same one that was here years ago. It's an old, scarred, wooden rectangular table. Jaxon, Anna, and I have eaten many meals at that table with Mac and his parents.

Mac walks over to the fridge and pulls out two beers and hands me one.

"When did you remodel?" I ask him, before taking a swig.

"A few years ago. It's mainly just the kitchen and bathrooms that I renovated. I wanted to modernize the plumbing. I also did the wiring throughout the house. Got tired of the damn electricity going off all the time."

I chuckle a little at that. "I remember a time or two it going out while I was here. Do you remember the time we were in the basement when it went out?"

He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Oh, you mean the time you almost killed us both?"

"Hey! It wasn't my fault. Your cat scared the shit out of me!"

We both laugh at the memory of being in the basement making out on the couch when the lights went off. We got up to go upstairs to find a flashlight. It was pitch black and we couldn't see a thing. The basement was already spooky, and with the lights off it was ten times worse. I made him let me go first and trail directly behind me. We were only up a few stairs when his stupid cat decided to sneak his paws through the stairs and play footsie with me. I shrieked and jumped, which caused me to bump into Mac. I tried catching myself, but because I couldn't see, I caused both of us to tumble down the stairs. Luckily neither one of us was hurt, except for a small bump on Mac's head and a tiny bruise on my knee. Mac always made sure there was an easily accessible flashlight in the basement from that moment on.

Our chuckles die down. I drink the rest of my beer and set the bottle on the counter.

"Another?" Mac asks.

I shake my head and tell him, "Can we just get this over with?"

Nodding, Mac finishes off his beer and grabs another one.

"Let's move to the living room," he says, before walking out of the kitchen.

I take a seat on one end of the couch. Mac takes the other end, as if he knows I need my distance. He sits on the edge and puts his elbows on his knees with the beer bottle hanging from both hands between his legs. He doesn't say anything at first, just stares off into space. He's making me nervous and it's pissing me off. He practically begged me to listen to him and now that I'm here he doesn't say anything. Just before I turn to face him and tell him to get on with it, he starts talking.

"As we both know, that night, your birthday, was supposed to be the night we were going to make love for the first time. It was a night I had been dreaming about since the day you kissed me at the lake." He doesn't look at me when he talks, just keeps looking forward, like he's stuck in a memory. "I didn't want it to happen there at Mark's house. I had rented us a room at the bed-and-breakfast. I wanted it to be special. I had candles spread all over the room and rose petals on the bed. I was going to take you there after we hung out at the party for a little while. I wanted you to enjoy hanging out with your friends before I had you all to myself."

He stops talking long enough to take a swallow of his beer. I had no idea he did all that. I had just assumed we would have sex at Mark's, in one of the rooms upstairs. We had never spoken of the how or where, just of the when. It warms my heart, knowing he wanted it to be special.

"Somehow or another we got separated. We had both been drinking but I made sure only to have two beers because I knew I had to drive us to the bed-and-breakfast. I started feeling weird, like I had drunk way more than what I actually did. I went looking for you so we could leave. Someone, I can't even remember who, told me that you asked them to tell me that you would be waiting in a room upstairs. I went up to get you. I was stumbling and couldn't keep my focus. When I made it to the only room that wasn't occupied, I went inside. It was dark, only lit by a couple of candles. When I flipped the switch to turn the light on, it didn't work. Through the dim candlelight, I could tell someone was on the bed. I stepped farther in the room when I realized it was you."

He looks over at me when he says that and his words cause me to suck in a breath. I know what he saw wasn't true. I was still downstairs hanging out with Andrew. Why in the fuck would he think it was me?

Before I get a chance to ask, he continues, "She had on the same bra-and-panties set I'd seen you wear before. Her hair was the same color as yours. In my woozy and fucked-up mind, it was you, Mia. She even smelled like you."

I am absolutely speechless. How in the hell is it possible that Tessa was able to pull that off? Her hair is blonde to my black. The chance of her owning the same bra-and-panties set is highly unlikely.

Shit! A memory hits me and it has me clenching my jaw. That bitch!

I look at Mac and see him watching me warily, unsure of my reaction to his story so far.

"One week before my birthday, I was getting dressed after gym, and I couldn't find my bra and panties. It was really strange, but then I thought someone had somehow picked them up with the towels and put them in the laundry by mistake. I never did end up finding them."

My blood is boiling. That cunt took my panties and used them. That's so gross and fucked-up on so many levels. I'd like nothing more than to hunt her down and beat the living shit out of her. I knew she was conniving, but I didn't realize she would stoop to such a low level. Before I get a chance to voice my opinion, Mac continues.

"Even through the fog, I was still determined to take you to the bed-and-breakfast. Our first time wasn't going to be at a party. The longer I stood there staring at you, the more messed-up my mind got. I couldn't understand why I couldn't seem to get my bearings. It kept getting worse and worse. I started to realize I couldn't drive so I was going to call a cab.

"I walked over to the bed and called your name. You didn't answer, just got up and crawled to the edge of the bed where I was standing. I was swaying badly and was getting pretty tired at that point. I could barely keep my eyes open. You started putting your hands on me, and it felt so damn good. I tried pushing you away, to explain my plans, but you just kept fucking touching me."

Mac puts his beer down on the coffee table with a loud bang and gets up. He rakes his fingers through his hair and starts pacing the room. I feel sick to my stomach the more he talks. To hear him talk about Tessa touching him, even when he thought it was me, claws at my insides. I want to tell him to shut up, that I can't take any more, but I need him to continue. I need to know the rest, even if it does destroy me in the process.

"I knew something wasn't right. Your hands weren't as soft or as tender. Your hair was the same color but the texture felt different. No matter how hard I tried shaking off the effects of the alcohol, I couldn't. It was as if I were floating outside my body. My mind was screaming at me to stop it, but my body was incapable of following through. You pushed me down on the bed and started removing my clothes. You put your mouth on me—"

"Stop!" I say harshly, not able to handle the thought of that nasty bitch's mouth on him. It was not me doing these things to him and I hate that he is referring to that whore as me. Bile rises in my throat and I have to force the nasty taste from my mouth. "Stop saying ‘you.' It was not me doing those things!"

Mac whips around at my harsh command, and I see the torment in his eyes. His hands are drawn into fists at his sides and his breathing has become heavier. My breathing isn't much better.

He walks up to me and pushes the coffee table back so he can kneel in front of me. Down on his knees, with both his legs on either side of mine so he can get as close as possible, he takes my tightly clenched hands.

"Okay. I'll skip all the gory details, but please let me finish, Mia. I need you to know what happened wasn't something I wanted," he says solemnly.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute before opening them and nodding. As much as it hurts, I need him to continue as well.

Still kneeling before me and keeping my hands in his, he starts talking again.

"At that point I'd lost all reason. All I had thought about for years was finally taking you and the sensations were overwhelming. I stopped fighting and let her do what she wanted. I tried participating but my limbs were too heavy. I could barely move. I still couldn't figure out why my brain wasn't working properly. I had drunk beer plenty of times before but it had never affected me like that. Eventually, I didn't care. She climbed on top of me and I knew the minute she did, something was way off. I think I blacked out at one point, because the next thing I knew you were walking in with her still on top of me. Even though I was still fucked-up, I knew immediately that something was wrong. How in the fuck could you be on top of me and be at the door at the same time? Using the light from the hallway once you opened the door, I looked to the person hovering above me, and through blurred vision, I saw Tessa. The last thing I remember until morning is you screaming, throwing Tessa off, and leaning over the side of the bed throwing up."

Mac drops his head onto my lap. I don't know what to think or feel. I feel numb. I don't know if I'm capable of feeling anything right now. I think I've always known in my heart that something wasn't quite right about that night. I've always known that Mac loved me, and I believe he honestly wanted for both of us to be our firsts. I just couldn't figure out why or how he could so carelessly give himself to someone else. It never made sense. I was so hurt by his actions that I just wanted to forget it ever happened. I never took the time to try to rationalize the whys. Hell, to be honest, I didn't really care why. I just knew it happened and there was no excuse for it. I still don't know if it makes a difference. I know Mac was drugged and there was nothing he could do, he was without a doubt raped, but I also know I'll never get the vision of a naked Tessa on top of an equally naked Mac out of my head. I remember the smirk she gave me when I was standing there staring at them with my heart laid out bleeding on the floor. I wanted to grip her by her hair and yank her off him. But I knew it wouldn't do any good. She had already won. Instead, I screamed to the top of my lungs, turned on my heel, and ran.

Mac lifts his head from my lap and I avert my eyes from his. I don't want to see the emotions there.

"Please say something, Mia."

Without looking at him, I ask him something I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to, but need to hear him confirm.

"You were drugged?"

"Yes. I knew I had been given something. I had only had a couple beers, and the way I felt was much more than that. They found Rohypnol."

I nod and pull away from him, not wanting him to touch me right now. I have too much to process. I get up off the couch and walk to the window. I'm still shocked. I have no idea what to say to him. We were both tricked and deceived. And there were more players than just Tessa. I want to rant and throw a tantrum. How could he not realize it wasn't me? Tessa and I are nothing alike. The rational part of my brain knows he was easily swayed because of the drugs and the similarities Tessa made sure were there. But the part that connects to my heart still hurts. It's hard to believe I could ever mistake Mac for someone else, but I've never been under the influence of the date rape drug. I've heard horror stories of women being given the drug and not even realizing she was being raped.

I turn around and face him with my arms wrapped around my waist. He's back to sitting on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees. His head is lowered, and his hands are clenching his hair. When I speak, he lifts his head and stares at me with tortured eyes.

"She was wearing a wig, wasn't she?" That's the only explanation there is. She's always had blonde hair.

"Yes. That's why it felt different. It must have fallen off during—"

I hold up a hand to stop him. "I get it."

He just nods and stares at me.

"After telling me this, what are you expecting, Mac?" I ask him because I really want to know. Does he expect me to just jump in his arms? It may explain a lot of what happened that night, but the fact remains, those awful visions will always be with me.

"I don't expect anything, Pix. Would I be opposed to you giving us another try? Fuck no. I would jump for fucking joy to have you again. But I don't expect it. Even though the rational part of me knows it wasn't my fault, that there was nothing I could do, the part of me that hurts," he grabs my hand and puts it over his heart, "feels like I should have done something to stop it. I just didn't want you to continue to think I did it because I didn't love you enough. You were my entire world back then. I lived and breathed to make you happy. You were my reason for being. I would have given anything to keep that pain from you."

His words don't bring me comfort. They just make the pain worse because I believe them with all my heart. The way he treated me, like I was a rare treasure, is something I'll never have again. What we had was special and precious, not something you get every day. It was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that many people never experience.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Why did you come looking for me upstairs?"

And that was where the other players came into play.

"I had been downstairs talking to Andrew and some friends when I realized you had been gone for a while. I looked for you all over downstairs and even outside. When I came back inside, I ran into Stacey. She told me you had given her a message for me to meet you upstairs."

I should have known right away that something wasn't adding up. Stacey and Tessa were close friends. Neither Mac nor I ever associated with her. I should have realized Mac would have never gone to her to give me a message.

"That's what I thought. And now that you mention the name, I think it was Stacey that told me you were upstairs."

That doesn't surprise me. Stacey was always stuck up Tessa's ass. Two peas in a pod, those two were. Stacey wasn't quite as bad as Tessa, but damn near.

"Dad?" Trent says from the hallway. I swing my body in his direction. I completely forgot he was here.

"Yeah, T?" Mac asks, getting up from the couch and facing his son.

"When are we having dinner?"

"In just a bit. How does pizza sound?"

"That's cool," he mumbles. I noticed he does that a lot.

Mac turns to me and asks, "Want to join us?"

His question takes me by surprise. I stand there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. I notice Trent also standing there watching me, waiting for my answer. I'm not sure, but it looks like he doesn't want me sticking around. Not to stoop to Tessa's level, but I bet not too many kind words have left Tessa's mouth regarding me, if she's said anything at all.

As I stand there, undecided if I should stay or not, Mac comes to stand in front of me.

"Stay, Pix. Have pizza with us," he says quietly.

I glance back at Trent and see him eyeing me with trepidation. I don't blame him. He doesn't know much about me, and I'm sure he doesn't trust me because of that. Hell, if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't trust me either.

When I look back at Mac, he's standing there watching me. I can see he really wants me to stay. I just don't know if I should. Would it lead him to believe I wanted to try again?

No, I am a long way off from that. I understand now why and how it happened, but I'm not ready to get involved with him again. My anger may have shifted from Mac to Tessa, but it's still there. The one thing I do know is that I would like to stay for dinner. Yes, it hurts to be around Trent, but I can't help but want to know more about him. Yes, part of him is Tessa, but the other part is Mac and Mac used to be such a big part of my life.

Making my decision, I tell him, "I'd love to stay."

The smile he aims my way brings those long-forgotten butterflies to the surface again.