Infatuation

by River Savage

  “Step back,” I manage past my dry cottonmouth. My stomach turns as the memory grows stronger. My heart heaves in my chest.

  He doesn’t argue, his weight is off me in one second. But it’s too late. I’m spiraling head first back into the past.

  Past

  Mackenzie

  “I’m sorry, baby, see what you do to me? You make me crazy. I love you so much it drives me insane.” The stars dancing in front of my eyes still linger, but I manage to find my bearings.

  It’s happening all over again.

  “You mean everything to me, Mackenzie. Seeing you taunt me like that is too much for me. You can’t speak to me like that and not expect me to react.” He continues to excuse his behavior and push the blame onto me, but I don’t have it in me to listen this time. It’s going to be the same old story. Only I already know the ending.

  Ignoring his apology, I start to shift from my position on the tiled floor and attempt to stand on my feet. I was cleaning the kitchen after our guests had left¸ right before Chad came at me with his fist.

  “Here let me help you.” He reaches for me, but a panicked plea leaves my mouth before I can stop myself.

  “NO!”

  He recoils at the level of my voice and I take the brief moment to find my feet on my own.

  “You can’t be angry at me, Mackenzie. You deliberately provoked me.” I slowly and painfully turn back to face him and finally see what I have been missing since the night he changed. The man is crazy. He’s not going to change. Tonight proves it.

  “Provoked you, Chad?” I shake my head of thoughts of our beginning and contemplate how we’re going to end.

  “Don’t fucking act dumb. It doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.” Forcing a breath into my lungs, I take a minute and try to figure out how to play this.

  “I’m dumb all right, Chad. Dumb to think you would change.” With false bravado, I move to our bedroom. Each small step burns my innards like boiling water.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Fingers wrap around my forearm, stopping me before I can run away.

  “Take your hands off me.” The shriek in my voice echoes off the high walls of our house, but he doesn’t react, his hold staying firm.

  “You’re not fucking going anywhere. You’re my wife.” The vein in his temple bulges as his grip grows stronger. His alcohol-laced breath hits my face and I force myself not to breathe in the offensive smell.

  “You don’t beat your wife, Chad.” I tug harder, desperate to be out of his hold.

  “Maybe if you weren’t acting like a whore all night, I wouldn’t fucking have to.”

  I know arguing with him right now isn’t going to help me. He’s drunk, angry, and he’s already hit me, but I can’t help it. The fact he’s calling me a whore hurts more than the fist to the face.

  “Whore? Tell me how I was a whore?”

  “You don’t think I saw the looks you kept throwing the asshole. The smiles, the way you fucking let him kiss you goodbye.” He pulls me to his chest.

  “You’re fucking crazy.” I fight his hold. The man has lost his damn mind. I was only playing the part he has drilled into me since becoming his wife.

  “Yeah, crazy for you, baby.” His nose comes to my hairline and he breathes me in. I keep fighting, even though I know it’s pointless. He’s too strong.

  “I’m leaving, Chad. We’re done. You promised, and I believed you. I trusted you wouldn’t put your hands on me again.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, Mackenzie.” He spins us in one fast movement and pushes me against the wall. Air leaves my lungs in a rapid surge at the force of the impact. He steps in closer, one hand leaving my arm and moving lower, slipping past the hemline of my shift dress. Chad starts to glide it up the outside of my thigh. I fight the tears threatening to fall. It shouldn’t be like this. I know that. But the most terrifying thing is, I don’t think Chad knows it. To him, there are no boundaries or lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

  “Don’t. Please don’t.” Repulsion aches through me at his touch and I fight it when his fingers slip into the side of my panties. I’ve never felt so hopeless in my life, standing against the wall inside of my home with my husband’s unwelcome touch.

  “Don’t what? Touch my whore wife.” I kick out at his shin, fighting once more for a brief moment to break free, but I’m met with a backhand to the face. My cheek stings and I cry out, not in pain but in fear, not sure how far he is going to take this or how I am going to get out of this. I don’t know if I can. The thought alone has my knees buckling under me.

  “The more you fight me, Mackenzie, the worse this is going to be for you.” He holds me up against the wall.

  “Why are you doing this, Chad?” A sob escapes my lips as he forcibly drives two fingers inside of me. How could the man I love try to take this from me? The man who promised to love and cherish me.

  “Because I love you, Mackenzie. No one will ever have what belongs to me. Do you understand me?”

  I don’t answer because I have no idea how he could think this is love.

  This isn’t love. This is the devil’s kingdom and I don’t belong here. The flames from the pits of hell are burning my flesh from the outside, working their way underneath my skin, waiting to turn the flicker of hope I have left in me to ash.

  I have to find my way out of it.

  Somehow I have to.

  Six

  Beau

  “That’s it, darlin’, deep breaths,” I encourage. Her eyes remain closed as she slowly starts to come back to herself. She’s been like this for over five minutes now, and it’s as if my breathing labors like hers, gasping each time she does.

  If only I could just get her to come back.

  “Is she okay?” Hunter asks, coming to stand next to me as I wait for Mackenzie to recover from her panic attack.

  “Yeah, go grab some water,” I order, still waiting patiently. I’m careful not to touch her. Knowing my closeness pushed her into a memory and caused her panic attack, fucks with me. The last thing she needs is for my hands to be on her, which could possibly push her right back into another one. It’s the last thing either of us need.

  “Beau,” she tries to stand, but I don’t let her. All thoughts of not touching her flee and my hand comes down on her shoulder forcing her back into her seat.

  “Keep breathing, darlin’.” Her eyes squeeze shut and she takes in another large, deep breath.

  “Oh, God, how embarrassing,” she says when she finally catches her breath and calms herself.

  “Forget about it,” I dismiss her concern. It’s the last thing I’m thinking.

  As soon as I stepped into her space, forcing her back to the wall, I knew I fucked up. The fear washing over her face, the blank look glazing over her eyes… it was nearly too painful to watch. I managed to move her to the sofa and maneuver her head between her legs to control her breathing. What I just did to her in the hall has played out for her before, and judging by her reaction, last time it ended a whole lot fucking worse.

  Which is the reason why I should have known. Any sort of fast movement can set her off. I know this. I fucking see it every day. The women we pick up, at all stages, can react the same. I don’t even know why I felt comfortable enough to tease her. Maybe it was the way she was smiling at me, acting like her ex isn’t out there waiting for a chance to get his hands on her. In the last seven days, I’ve watched her relax into a comfortable routine. The scared, broken Mackenzie who showed up on our doorstep is still there, but as each day passes, her confidence has started to grow.

  After a few more minutes of running the whole scene over and over in my head, and how I messed up, Hunter finally returns with a glass of water. Taking it from him, I step forward slowly and press the edge of the glass to her lips. She takes a few sips before pushing the glass away. I hand it back to Hunter and nod toward the door, silently telling him to fuck off. He begins to retreat as Mackenzie’s hand reaches out and grabs me.
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  “I’m sorry, Beau. I can’t believe I reacted like this.” She moves to stand, breaking our connection.

  “Don’t ever apologize, Kenzie. I shouldn’t have trapped you in.” I follow her up, not ready to leave her alone just yet. She looks back, eyes wild with distress and shame. “Hey, I’m serious, darlin’. You don’t ever have to hide from me. There is nothing you have to be embarrassed about. I get it.”

  “You do?” Her voice is small, almost overly controlled. A façade. Only I can see right through it.

  “It was my fault. I should be the one apologizing. Not you,” I offer, hoping to relieve some of her embarrassment. She doesn’t say anything, but something silent passes between us. Like we both know it’s less about whose fault it is, and more about what just happened between us, but we’re not discussing it.

  “I’m still hungry,” she finally says before turning and moving toward the kitchen.

  I want to stay where we are, ask her about the exact moment she was taken back to in her panic, but I’m not sure I can handle what she’d say. So I don’t. I keep my questions to myself and follow her into the kitchen.

  “So, how was your day?” She sets about pulling out food from the fridge as if nothing happened. I move toward her with the intent to take over, wanting her to fully recover from the anxiety I know is still running through her.

  “Stop, Beau. You sit, I have this,” she orders the same way I would and I nearly laugh.

  “I’m helping. Don’t think you can boss me, woman.” She narrows her eyes on me but doesn’t say anything else. The tension between us still stirs from earlier.

  “Can’t you just let someone do something for you once, Beau?”

  “I don’t like to be told what to do,” I tell her, trying to explain the way I am.

  “I’ve noticed. Why?” She stops and waits for my answer.

  “Because I like control, darlin’.” I wait for her reaction. There’s a possibility she might pull away from me, put her walls back up at my confession, but I’m not going to hide who I am around her.

  “You know I spent too many years with someone who wanted control, Beau.” She pulls out a fresh loaf of bread and lays out four slices.

  “There are many types of control, darlin’.” Her hand is still on the mustard jar but she doesn’t reply. “The difference is I wouldn’t hurt a woman like your ex hurt you.”

  “You know there was a time when I believed Chad when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  I practically come out of my skin at her comparison, but manage to control it. “Do you think I would ever hurt you, Kenzie? You think I’m like him?” She doesn’t answer at first and it guts me. A small sliver of pain aches its way through my body until it reaches my heart. We both know I’m nothing like him, but I need to hear it from her. Need to know she doesn’t think of me the same way. Like him.

  “No, Beau. Of course not. I didn’t mean… I know you wouldn’t hurt me. It’s just Chad took so much from me, and I’ve fought so hard to come back from there. I just don’t ever see myself in that sort of situation again.” Her reasoning makes sense, but it doesn’t stop my displeasure at hearing it.

  Get over it, fucker.

  “I understand why you think that. I do, darlin’, but the difference between the control Chad took and the control I crave is, if it’s done right, it can be more than you ever thought you would like.”

  “I doubt it.” She scoffs before moving about the kitchen. I don’t want to get into it with her anymore. Clearly, we’re both so different, on two separate sides of the universe with our wants and needs. I’m not even sure she knows what I’m getting at, but at least she has some understanding of what I’m about.

  Not that it matters.

  It will never matter.

  * * *

  “You find any info on Chad yet?” Nix asks later that night when the clubhouse is in the full swing of a weekend party.

  “Nope, fucking dead end after dead end. Tiny is working a lead, but to tell you the truth, Jackson might be right. Maybe the fucker got messed up in something bigger than this.” When Jackson was here last week talking to Mackenzie, he commented that the Mayor was riding him to follow some leads on Chad going off-grid.

  “You’d think the Mayor would be on it, plastering his face over the TV if he were really missing,” He kicks his legs up on a chair across from him.

  “Yeah, something doesn’t add up. Jackson said he has a re-election coming up. Still, you’d think he’d put something out there. Maybe he knew Chad fucked-up with Kenz again.” We fall silent for a bit, both of us trying to piece it all together. Over lunch today, I tried to get Mackenzie to open up some more about Chad, but she shut right down again. Part of me thinks she’s still shaken up by Chad finding her, but a small part of me thinks it’s something more. I don’t want to keep pushing her, so I’ve decided to let it go. If she wants to talk, she can come to me.

  “So, how you doing otherwise?” I let the Chad subject go, wondering the last time we checked in with each other outside of club business.

  “Besides the shit with Mackenzie and the shit with Paige, never better.” His laugh is dry and I can sense his concern.

  “You getting shit from the markers we called in for Paige?”

  “Not yet, but I know it’s fucking coming. Knowing T, who the fuck can tell what he’ll want.”

  T is the President of the Warriors, another club just outside of town. While we keep our business legit, the Warriors walk on the opposite side. Owing them a marker is bad for business. Those assholes don’t give a fuck what side of the law you walk on. They call a marker, you deliver.

  “No point getting yourself twisted over it. We’ll deal with it. Simple.” Nix nods, but doesn’t say anything. I know he’s stewing on it, but the way I see it is we can’t undo it. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to. It brought Paige to safety and out of the monster’s hands she was thrown into. Hell, after only hearing the basics of what Bell’s sister endured for more than five years, I’d be happy to owe T five fucking markers if it meant we saved her.

  “How’s Mackenzie settling in?” He changes the subject when he sees her walk out with Kelly and Kadence. I can still see her unease when everyone is around, but she’s growing more comfortable with them.

  “She’s doing okay. Had a meltdown today. Besides that, she’s adjusting as good as she can under the circumstances.” I’m surprised it took this long for her to show her vulnerable side. She was getting so good at pretending she was fine, I almost forgot she had a past.

  “You still doing okay with her here?”

  “Don’t know why I wouldn’t. Things haven’t changed.” Nix’s eyes come to mine at my quick fire response.

  “She’s fucking with your head living here. Don’t deny it.” I don’t reply right away. Trying to get a handle on how I’m coping with her being here.

  “I have a handle on it.” I clear my throat, watching her laugh at something Kelly says. She’s only just started laughing and interacting with the rest of the club. At first, it was just small moments with me, our quiet mornings in the kitchen encouraging her to open up. But as the last two weeks have passed, she’s finally opening up to everyone.

  “Fuck, dude. You’re so fucking messed up. Everyone’s too scared to fucking talk to her.” He knocks my shoulder at my growl. “You’ve been walkin’ around like someone pissed in your breakfast ever since she came here. You haven’t slept at your own place, and you’ve been cookin’ for her. Should I alert the boys, tell them your balls have been compromised?”

  “Fuck you. I’m not talking about this with you, Nix. Go talk your girly shit with Sy and Brooks.”

  “Quit sulkin’. You don’t have to talk to me about it. Just know everyone else is noticin’.

  “Noticing what?” I bark, pissed these fuckers are even talking about this shit. The last thing Mackenzie needs is to have the clubhouse discussing us.

  “That you’re pussy whipped.” His grin grows
at my horror-filled face.

  “I am not fucking whipped.” I grit my teeth, not at all agreeing with his assessment. Fuck no.

  “When was the last time you had a woman warming your bed?”

  “And on that note, I’m out.” I stand, not at all interested in the conversation anymore. Nix might be my best friend, but I don’t talk pussy with him. Ever. That shit is between me and the woman welcoming me between her thighs.

  “I’ll keep you posted on what we find out.” I take my beer and walk back inside. Nix doesn’t call after me. He knows when I’m done. And after hearing the club is just waiting for something to happen with Kenzie and me, I am done.

  Seven

  Mackenzie

  “Can you do a load of my sheets please, Mackenzie?” A voice startles me from behind as I bend down and fill the washer with my sheets.

  “Sure, just leave them here and I’ll put them in the next load, Hunter.” I don’t bother turning around. I know all the guys well enough now to recognize their voices.

  It’s been a month since I came to Rushford and moved in with the Rebels. It’s taken that time for me to settle in, and get to know everyone. In the beginning, I only opened up to Beau. His constant presence wouldn’t allow me to retreat into myself. Kelly was the second person I let in. Her sharing her past gave me something I could relate to and a closeness I haven’t had since Heidi. Kelly has been patient and understanding and before I knew it, the closeness we shared moved on to the rest of the ladies in the club. All of them have taken me into their circle.

  “Don’t you dare, Mackenzie.” Kadence’s voice echoes through the laundry room, and this time, I turn.

  “It’s no problem, Kadence. It’s the least I can do. Besides, I like keeping busy.” I watch as her brow drops into a scowl at the news I’m going to be washing Hunter’s sheets.

  “Please tell me you don’t always do this?”