Blurring Lines

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Blurring Lines Page 15

by Chloe Walsh


  “You okay there, Kenz?” I heard Cade ask as he stalked towards us. Cade looked hot today in jeans, a black button-down shirt and leather jacket. “You cold or something?”

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I glanced at Cade’s mutinous expression briefly. “I’m fine.”

  Without another word, Cade shrugged his jacket off and placed it over my shoulders. His fingers lingered on the label …

  “About that date,” Ian started to say, but he was interrupted by Cade’s deathly-cold voice.

  “‘No.’”

  Ian climbed to his feet and squared up to Cade. “What’s your problem, man?” There wasn’t much between the boys in height, but Cade had Ian beat in the muscles department. “You playing the big brother role now or something?”

  “You’re my problem, fuck-face,” Cade snarled, pressing his chest to Ian’s. “Honing in on an abused girl like a fucking predator.” Shoving Ian backwards, Cade stalked him with a look of fury etched on his face. “I already told you, Keller, Mackenzie is off-limits to you and every other piece of shit at this school.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Ian taunted. “And why’s that, Cade? Could it be the fact that you want her for yourself? You’re fucking hard for your own stepsister—”

  Ian didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Cade planted his fist in his face, knocking him flat out on his ass.

  “Walk away now,” Cade snarled. “Or I’ll beat your ass so damn hard, you’ll be eating and pissing through a tube.”

  “Cade,” Emily hissed, grabbing hold of Cade’s arm. “That’s enough.”

  Keeping his eyes locked on Ian’s face, Cade allowed Emily to walk him back to their table.

  “Asshole,” Ian muttered as he climbed to his feet, holding his nose with his hand. “Fucking lunatic,” he muttered before stalking off.

  “Ian,” I called out, as I quickly climbed to my feet. “About that date …”

  “Mackenzie,” Cade snapped. Striding towards me, he grabbed my arm and dragged me roughly against him. His chest was heaving. The muscles on his arms were bunched tight and coiled.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “You don’t want me,” I told Cade, jerking free from his grasp. “He does.”

  Without another word, I stalked past Cade in the direction of Ian.

  “Don’t do this, Kenzie,” I heard Cade call out in a gruff tone.

  When I reached Ian, I took the hand he was offering and turned. Cade was still standing by the tree with his eyes locked on me.

  “Go back to your girlfriend,” I told him, before turning my attention to Ian. Plastering a bright smile on my face, I said, “You can pick me up at seven.”

  ****

  Cade

  April 21st, 2006

  “What the hell was that?” Emily hissed, when we reached our table. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was pissed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Keller.

  I watched the dick until he walked back into school – with Mackenzie.

  “Cade, I am talking to you …”

  “I’m not fucking deaf, Emily. I can hear you,” I snapped. Exhaling heavily, I forced myself to calm down. “Ems,” I said in a placating tone of voice. “You’ve been through hell, and I get that – I do.”

  “But?” Emily stood in front of me, pouting her lips with her arm crossed.

  “I had to do that,” I said, defending myself. Letting out a string of curse words, I ran a hand roughly through my hair before sinking onto the bench. “She’s in no fit state to be dating. Keller’s taking advantage of her. Ems, wait …” My words trailed off as Emily turned around and stalked off.

  “That girl represents nothing but trouble for you, Cade,” Rita told me, and I automatically tensed.

  “What’s it got to do with you, Rita?” I shot back angrily, glaring at the pretty redhead sitting opposite me.

  “It’s got nothing to do with me,” Rita replied in a calm tone. “But I have eyes, Cade. And I’m not blind. You need to sort your shit out.”

  Climbing to her feet, Rita grabbed her bottle of water from the table and said, “There’s more happening here than you think. Talk to Emily – reassure her and maybe then she’ll confide in you.”

  I couldn’t talk to Emily.

  I was too fucking busy losing my mind over Mackenzie.

  ****

  Mackenzie

  April 21st, 2006

  “Emily,” I acknowledged later that afternoon, when I tried to enter one of the bathroom stalls. She, along with her four of her buddies, blocked my way.

  “Can you please step aside?” Shrugging awkwardly, I placed my hands in my jeans pockets and shifted around from foot to foot.

  “I really need to pee,” I added, but neither Emily nor any of the others made a move to get out of the way.

  The look of detestation in Emily’s eyes was obvious and clearly directed at me. She made no secret of how she felt.

  “You’re a disease to this town,” she finally said, towering over me. Her voice was gentle, soft even, but her words were venomous.

  “Spreading your poison like cancer,” she sneered. “Making my boyfriend worry about your filthy whoring ass,” she spat, “you should have stayed in Mexico where you belonged.”

  You have no idea how often I wish I had …

  “Look, all I want is to use the bathroom,” I told her flatly.

  “You’re ruining everything by breathing, you selfish bitch.” I took a step back when Emily stepped towards me, backing me up against the wall. “Ian and Cade have been friends their entire lives.” Anger bubbled in her eyes. “You got between them. You!”

  “Guard the door,” Emily told her friends and I didn’t have time to defend myself before she reached out and grabbed me by the hair.

  Dragging me towards the toilet cubicle, Emily shoved me inside and forced me onto my hands and knees. For some strange reason I didn’t fight back. I just let her hurt me. I let her push my face into the toilet bowl, hold my face under the water, and, for an even sicker reason, I wished she wouldn’t let me back up for air.

  When she finally released my head, I gasped for air, but I couldn’t breathe. Kneeling on the cold tiles, I leaned forward and vomited all of the water I had swallowed as I drew painful breaths into my lungs.

  “Oh, that’s just lovely,” Emily sneered, and I knew her tongue was coiled like a cobra, waiting to strike. “A round of applause for Mackenzie Whore.”

  I didn’t react to Emily’s comment. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that nickname. Besides, she wasn’t lying. I was a whore; which sucked for her, considering I was her boyfriend’s whore.

  Pushing my drenched hair back off my face, I slowly stood and inhaled a deep, calming breath. I was probably going to get the shit kicked out of myself for what I was about to do, but I really didn’t care anymore.

  “I’m going to enjoy taking your boyfriend away from you,” I told Emily, reveling when I saw the pain in her eyes. “I’m going to enjoy taking him hard and deep and he’ll love every second of being inside me.”

  Silence fell around us. You could have heard a needle drop it was so quiet, as I stared defiantly at Emily McAllister.

  “You slut,” she spluttered. She let out a scream and shoved me so hard my back hit the stall door. “You fucking slut. Cade wouldn’t touch a whore like you. He loves me.”

  “Wouldn’t he?” I laughed humorlessly. “You just said it yourself – I’m a whore. What eighteen year old boy wouldn’t want his own personal whore?”

  Emily’s face caved in, and then she did something I wasn’t expecting her to do.

  She dropped to the floor, buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now?” I tossed out angrily. “Tell you I’m sorry?”

  “Get lost, Mackenzie.” Rita, who had just arrived into the bathroom, pushed her way into the stall and hissed. “Permanently.”

  “Rita,” I whispered. Pa
in soared through me from her hurtful words. “I thought we were …”

  “Friends?” Rita offered in a flat tone, as she dropped her knees and wrapped her arms around Emily.

  “I was friends with the old Mackenzie,” she added. “Not the whore standing in front of me.”

  ****

  Cade

  April 21st, 2006

  Mackenzie Moore whirled into my life when I was ten years old.

  The first time she looked at me from the doorway of my bedroom with those green eyes, innocent and beautiful, and hair the color of golden corn, she blew my world to shit. I felt a whole bunch of strange pins and needles ripple through my belly that day.

  At ten years old, it was her sweet smile and skills with her daddy’s football that had me sunk.

  At fifteen, it was her skills with that sweet mouth which she used to steal my heart.

  At eighteen, I’m in so fucking deep I can’t turn back.

  I know she is in self-destruct mode, and the problem is, I’m in so fucking deep I’m probably going to destruct with her. If I knew then what I know now, I’d have run. If I had known just how dangerous my stepsister was to me ...

  But it’s too late for running; it’s too fucking late for even thinking about stepping sideways. My stepsister is dangerous and wrong for me in every fucking way possible.

  Too bad I’m hooked …

  ****

  “I think I might go out later,” Kenzie announced at the dinner table, and my heart dropped into my ass.

  “With who?” Mitch asked quickly.

  “Rita,” Mackenzie replied, and I knew that was a bullshit lie.

  Kenzie didn’t hang around with Rita anymore. She didn’t hang around with anyone. I knew exactly where Mackenzie was going later and it made me sick to my goddamn stomach.

  She was meeting Ian.

  For a date.

  Goddamn it, I wished I could go back to two months ago and be a better man. I would do anything to go back in time and stop what we had become from happening.

  I was to blame.

  I knew that.

  I’d fucking crushed her and now I was paying for my crimes in the worst possible way. Because if I had been a stronger man that morning and had done the right thing by the girl I loved – if I hadn’t denied Mackenzie and crushed her fucking soul – then maybe we would be together now.

  Not this …

  “I need to get ready.” Shoving her chair back, Mackenzie stood up and left the room without so much as a backwards glance.

  Helpless desperation coursed through me. I had to stop her. Stop her from self-destructing like this. From giving herself away to him like she wasn’t worth a damn, when the truth was she was worth a hell of a lot more.

  Jerking out of my seat, I rushed out of the kitchen and up the staircase, not stopping until I was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, breathless and panting.

  “What are you doing, Cade?” Mackenzie asked as she stood by her closet in nothing but a bra and thong.

  Stalking towards Mackenzie, I didn’t stop until her back was pressed against the wardrobe and my hands were on her thighs, hoisting her up. “Don’t go out with him,” I snarled before covering her mouth with mine, hating myself for what I was about to do. “I’m fucking begging you. Be with me.”

  “You can’t give me what I need,” she breathed against my lips. “And I’m not good for you.”

  “I’ll do it,” I choked out. Mackenzie wanted me to hurt her and she wanted me to enjoy doing it. I realized now that this was the only way she would have me – the only way I could keep her safe from other men. She couldn’t do normal, and I couldn’t do without her. “I’ll do whatever you want, Kenzie – whatever you want me to do. Just stay here with me.”

  It was so fucked-up, and I was drowning in this shit.

  “Will you take me rough,” she breathed, tilting her hips towards me. “And hard.”

  Jesus …

  “Okay.”

  She wanted me to fuck her rough and I wanted to take her gently. All I wanted to do was take care of her. I loved her. I fucking adored her. She was terrifying me, but I was so fucking in love with her, I would do this, because if I didn’t I was terrified she might find someone else who would. And I wouldn’t share her. I would protect her. I would protect her or I would die trying.

  “I want you to own me, Cade …”

  “I love you,” I whispered brokenly.

  Pushing her hands against my chest, Kenzie wiggled out of my arms and jerked away from me. “I don’t want you to love me,” she hissed. “I want you to hurt me.”

  “Why?” I demanded with tears in my eyes. “Jesus Christ, Mackenzie, why?”

  “I already told you,” she sobbed, backing away from me. “Because I’m a whore, and one of these days you’re going to realize that.”

  ****

  Mackenzie

  April 21st, 2006

  There were a few of the things I had learned about myself.

  I was a walking mess – a hot mess, according to my stepbrother, Cade.

  According to my therapist, I was a survivor of sexual atrocity.

  According to my father, I was a victim.

  According to Cade’s mother, I was weird.

  According to Emily McAllister and everyone in school, I was a whore.

  I didn’t care about what any of them thought anymore. I knew what I was worth.

  Nothing.

  I knew what men wanted.

  My body.

  And I knew how to gain the affection I desperately craved.

  Sex.

  I chose to live my life the way I did. It was my life and I wasn’t going to allow myself to fall into line. To fall into line meant I would lose myself – more than I already had.

  At least, that’s what I had been telling myself for the past hour – every time I found myself in this position, with my head trapped between Ian’s hands, his tongue in my mouth, and his fingers knotted in my hair.

  “Come on, Mackenzie,” Ian growled, as he tugged on my shirt. His beefy fingers dug into my skin, as he ripped at the buttons on my shirt in his desperate attempt to free my breasts. “Stop fucking torturing me and give it up, damn it.”

  “I told you no,” I warned him, slapping his hand away. I shouldn’t have come here tonight, but the reckless streak inside me, the one that grew louder and stronger every time I saw Cade and Emily together, had compelled me to be here. To fuck with Cade’s head the way he fucked with mine. To make him feel the pain I felt. But I shouldn’t have come here with Ian Keller. Ian wanted more than kisses from me, and I wasn’t prepared to give more.

  “And in this instance, Ian, no means no.”

  “Fine. Get out of my truck,” he snapped. Sitting back in his seat, Ian cursed and ran a hand through his blonde hair, before letting out a sharp hiss. “Either give it up, you fucking cocktease, or walk your own ass home and we call it quits.”

  I knew why Ian was threatening me. He had taken me to the creek for our date tonight. He assumed that I would be too afraid to get out of his truck in the same place I’d been taken.

  Ian Keller didn’t know me very well.

  Unfastening my seatbelt, I swung the door of his truck outward and slid out.

  “You’re an asshole, Ian.”

  “Yeah,” he sneered maliciously. “Well, I’d actually have to care for remark to hurt, whore.”

  I rolled my eyes with boredom. “Same here, dick.”

  “Go on home and fuck your brother, Kenzie,” Ian roared out the window of his truck. “From now on you and Cade better leave me out of your fucked-up games.”

  I watched Ian’s truck drive out of sight before pulling my phone out of my jeans pocket and dialing Cade’s number.

  He answered on the third ring.

  “Kenz?” His voice was gruff.

  “Can you come pick me up?” I hated that my voice was cracking.

  I wasn’t sad.

  I was pissed off.

/>   “Where the hell are you?” he demanded. I heard the sound of bed sheets ruffling and imagined Cade dragging himself out of his soft queen-sized divan.

  “I'm at the creek,” I told him. “Can you come get me?”

  “Goddamn it to hell, Mackenzie,” Cade growled. He hadn’t realized that I slipped out after our argument. “Have you got a death wish? Why’d you go down there without me?”

  “Will you come?” I asked sharply. “Or do I need to chase Ian down and suck his cock for a ride home?”

  “You’re with him?” Cade roared.

  “And you’re with her,” I tossed back spitefully. “Are you going to pick me up or not, Cade?”

  Pretty sunshine …

  Worthless whore …

  “It’s dark, I’m cold and I'm going to start walking if you don’t tell me fast.”

  “Don’t move,” he warned me. Seconds later, I heard the sound of an engine roar to life. “I’m on my way.”

  ****

  Fifteen minutes later, the sound of Cade’s piece-of-shit Ducati pierced through my ears a few seconds before a lone headlamp came into sight.

  Getting up from where I had been sitting on the side of the road, I brushed the dust off the back of my jeans. It was warm tonight, and as Cade got closer, I could see he was wearing a short-sleeved back shirt.

  He pulled to a stop beside me.

  “Get on.”

  He wasn’t wearing a helmet and his blue eyes were burning with anger. Cade looked hot as fuck when he was mad.

  Excitement rippled through me as I climbed on the back of Cade’s motorcycle and wrapped my arms around him. He felt strong and hard, familiar and safe. I inhaled the familiar laundry detergent scent on his shirt and rubbed my nose against his back.

  “Are you mad at me?” I whispered, as Cade pulled into our driveway, killed the engine and kicked out the stand.

 

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