The Jaded: Reclaim Me Part 8

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

Nodding his head, 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 that 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 s.p.a.ce. He's making me nervous and it's p.i.s.sing 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 that we were going to make love for the first time. It was a night that 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 a.s.sumed that we would have s.e.x 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 that 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 told them to tell me that you were waiting for me 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 candle light, I could tell someone was on the bed. I stepped further 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 f.u.c.k would he think it was me?

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

I am absolutely speechless. How in the h.e.l.l 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.

s.h.i.t! A memory hits me and it has me clenching my jaw. That b.i.t.c.h!

I look to Mac and see him watching me wearily, 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 c.u.n.t took my panties and used them. That is so gross and f.u.c.ked up on so many levels. I'd like nothing more than to hunt her down and beat the living s.h.i.t 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 f.u.c.ked 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 this point. I could barely keep my eyes open. You started putting your hands on me, and it felt so d.a.m.n good. I tried pushing you away, to explain my plans, but you just kept f.u.c.king 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 anymore, 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 to 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 b.i.t.c.h's mouth on him. It was not me doing these things to him and I hate that he is referring that wh.o.r.e as me. I feel bile rise 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 hands that are clenched tightly.

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

I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute before opening them and nodding my head. 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 to continue fighting. 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 partic.i.p.ating but my limbs were too heavy. I could barely move. I still couldn't figure out why I was so f.u.c.ked up. 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 f.u.c.ked up, I knew immediately that something was wrong. How in the f.u.c.k 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 was you screaming, throwing Tessa off, and leaning over the side of the bed throwing up."

Mac drops his head down 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. h.e.l.l, 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. Obviously, Mac was drugged and so it wasn't entirely his fault, but I 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.

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 that I pretty sure I already know the answer to, but need to hear him confirm it.

"You were drugged?"

"Yes. I knew that I had to have 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 my head and pull away from him, not wanting him to touch me right now. I get up off the couch and walk to the window. I'm still shocked at what Mac told me. I have no idea what to say to him. Part of me wants to forgive him. We were both tricked and deceived. And there were more players than just Tessa. Another part of me wants 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 that 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 and feels betrayed. Would I have done the same thing if the situation was reversed and someone had given me the date rape drug? I want to say no, that there was no way I could mistake Mac for someone else, but I can't say for sure because I've never been under the influence of it.

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 forgive him and jump in his arms? It may explain a lot of what happened that night, but the fact remains, he slept with someone else. That's not something I can easily forget or forgive.

"I don't expect anything, Pix. Would I be opposed to you giving us another try? f.u.c.k no. I would jump for f.u.c.king joy to have you again. But I don't expect it. I still know what I did was wrong, even though I didn't know it at the time. I still hold myself responsible. I know that what I did is something you could never forgive me for. I just didn't want you to continue to think that 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 piece of treasure, is something I'll never have again. What we had was special and precious, not something you get everyday. 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 this is where the other players come 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 that 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 a.s.sociated with her. I should have realized that 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 a.s.s. Two peas in a pod those two were. Stacey wasn't quite as bad as Tessa, but d.a.m.n near.

"Dad?" Trent says from the mouth of 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 that 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 down 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 to 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. h.e.l.l, if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't trust me either.

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

No, I am a long way off from that. I understand now why and how it happened, but I haven't forgiven him. My anger may have shifted, but I'm just not sure if I could ever say that what he did was okay. 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 at my answer brings those long forgotten b.u.t.terflies to the surface again.

Chapter Ten.

Mac Her charm...

We're all sitting around the table eating pizza. No one is talking and tension fills the air. I know that Mia isn't really comfortable in this situation. I know that it's hard on her being around T. It's a big slap in the face at the reminder of what happened.

I'm sure Trent isn't real happy with the situation either. He doesn't know much about Mia, as he's not here very often, but he does know that Mia is part of the reason why his mom and I never worked out. He doesn't know why, but I'm sure he's heard her name a time or two. I can only imagine what his mom has told him. I'm not exactly sure what's going on with him lately, but he's developed an att.i.tude. I plan to talk to him this week to find out what's going on. We've always been close, but he's closed himself off lately. I don't like it. I want my easygoing boy back.

It's hard to keep my eyes off Mia. She hasn't been here since before her eighteenth birthday. I didn't realize how much I missed seeing her here, until now. She used to be so comfortable here. It was her second home. It hurts to see the tension in her features now, knowing that it's because of me. I don't know why she agreed to stay, but I'm glad she did. Everything I laid on her tonight can't be easy on her. The end results were the same, but the situation and how it came about must have been a real shock. I can only imagine what she is thinking and feeling right now.

Out the corner of my eye, I see a furry head peeking around the door that leads to the kitchen. I drop my pizza crust on the plate and swivel around in my chair.

"Come here, Loafer," I say and hold out my hand.

Mia whips her head around in the direction I spoke. Loafer hasn't been out of my room since she showed up. You can see the surprise on Mia's face when she sees Loafer peeking around the corner.

Mia looks back to me. "I didn't know you had a dog."

I break a piece of the crust off and hold it down to try to entice Loafer to come to me. She takes a couple steps closer. I look over to Mia when I answer.

"She's skittish, doesn't like strangers. I adopted her when she was a pup. The shelter said she had been beaten." I click my teeth at Loafer and we watch in silence as she slowly makes her way over to me. She eyes Mia the whole time, but I'm still surprised she came to me. Normally, she won't enter a room if there's someone in there she doesn't know. She's fine with kids, took to T right from the start, but not adults.

She gently takes the crust from me and flops down on her b.u.t.t to eat it. Mia watches her with a sad expression on her face. When we were kids, she loved animals. She slowly reaches her hand out towards Loafer's back. Loafer tenses and stops eating, but doesn't scurry away, which also surprises me. I sit stunned when Loafer lets Mia rub her hands along her back. Is it normal for me to be jealous of a dog? I want those soft hands rubbing me.

"She normally doesn't let anyone touch her, except T and me," I tell her as she continues to pet Loafer. She looks up with a small smile. Mia reaches up, grabs a piece of her own crust, and offers it to Loafer. Again, she gently takes it and commences eating it, seemingly no longer fazed that Mia is touching her.

"Why the name Loafer? It's not the traditional dog name."

I chuckle. "No, I guess it's not. When I got her all she would eat was bread. Wouldn't touch dog food or any sc.r.a.ps I tried giving her."

After a few more minutes of petting Loafer, Mia sits back in her chair.

We lapse into more silence. Just before I open my mouth to say something, Mia speaks up.

"What grade will you be in when school starts back up?" She asks, looking at T.

He pauses in stuffing his face and eyes Mia suspiciously before mumbling, "Sixth."

Mia looks to me, and I smile at her in encouragement. I like that she's curious about T. She turns back to him and asks another question.

"That's middle school. Are you excited?"

Rolling his eyes, he says, "It's school. Why would I be excited about school?"

I'm just about to get onto him for rolling his eyes when I hear Mia chuckle, the sound is music to my ears. I've always loved her laugh, with its soft sound. It's just one of the thousands of things I've missed about her.

"Yeah, I can see your point. I never cared for school either. I just meant that you'll be going to junior high, a whole new school, and new experiences."

He again rolls his eyes and mumbles, "Still nothing to be excited about. It's just a new building."

I can tell that T's att.i.tude isn't deterring her, but I've seen enough of it. Therefore, I say, "Eyes and att.i.tude, T."

He looks up at me, and I can tell he wants to roll his eyes again but doesn't. He knows he's pushing the limit.

He goes back to shoveling pizza in his mouth. "How are Taekwondo lessons going? Your mom still taking you?"

He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Yeah, when she has the time, which isn't very often. Jay's mom normally picks me up."

"What do you mean, 'when she has time'? She only works twenty hours a week. What in the h.e.l.l else does she do that causes her not to have time to take you to a few cla.s.ses a week?"

"Don't know. She's just gone a lot."

"Does she leave you alone at the house often?" I ask. Yes, if pushed, T could take care of himself for a few hours, but he's still just a kid and shouldn't have to. I look over to Mia, who's watching us talk with her brows puckered. I can see a barely visible hardness to her eyes, like she's not liking what she's hearing. I don't like it either.

"A few times a week, for a few hours. Doesn't matter though, I can take care of myself." He stops talking and then adds something so quietly I don't hear him.

"What was that?" I ask.