Infatuation
Page 7“Don’t sweat it, girl. We’ll be here tomorrow. We can chat then.” Kelly steps forward and brings her arms around me. I can’t help but tense. Forcing myself to relax into her hug, I focus on my breathing. Over the last eighteen months, I’ve been working on my reaction to any sudden movement. The self-defense classes have helped, but sometimes it gets the better of me and I react.
“Okay, well thanks for everything. Umm, can you tell Beau thank you.” I start to fidget in my spot, anxious to leave. I feel terrible ditching them after they have just welcomed me in, but I need space to process the last forty-eight hours.
“We will, sleep well, and know you’re safe here.” Kadence steps forward this time. She doesn’t put her arms around me; instead, she reaches for my hand and squeezes it firmly in a comforting gesture.
“Thanks.” I pull back, and look over at Bell and Holly, giving them a wave before turning on my heel. The idea I am safe settles over me as I make my way to my room.
Safe.
When was the last time I truly felt safe?
The night Beau sat with me in hospital.
Forgoing a bath like I had planned, I pull back the covers on the double bed and crawl in. My eyes are so heavy I don’t know how I’ve functioned for this long.
Letting out a defeated breath, I pull the blanket up to my neck and close my eyes. It doesn’t take long for sleep to take me, and for the first time in a long time, I know I’m going to sleep well.
Only time will tell.
Past Mackenzie
“Okay, I’m heading out.” I stop at the door on my way out to say goodbye to Chad.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He looks up from the television and eyes my outfit. Dark-wash jeans and a pale pink camisole set off with a black jacket and matching heels cover my body. I was going for casual with a hint of sexy and judging by his stare, I might have just pulled it off.
“With Heidi.”
“What about my dinner?”
“I told you last week, Chad. I’m going out for dinner for Heidi’s birthday.” A look I can’t read washes over his face before he stands and walks toward me.
“So you’re just going to leave me here with no dinner and go out?” At first I think he’s joking. The last few months have been great between us.
“But I want you to cook for me.” His voice is controlled, his pout only just gracing his lips. I roll my eyes, thinking we’re playing a game here, not realizing how wrong I am. My slip in my reserve costs me. Before I can react, I’m pushed up against the wall. Hand to my chest, pinning me with his weight.
“Chad?” I ask. Fear ignites, working its way through my body and washing away the last four months he hasn’t laid a hand on me.
The last time Chad hit me I passed out in the bathroom. I woke up in our bed with him hovering over me with the most distraught face I had ever seen on him. At first, my instinct was to leave. No man was ever going to hit me and expect me to put up with it. But stupid me believed him when he broke down in tears and promised me he would never do it again. Who was I to throw a good marriage away for one mistake? So I stayed. And everything went back to normal. We had our fights, sure. But not once has Chad raised his hand to me again.
Until tonight.
“You ever roll your eyes at me again, you’ll regret it, Mackenzie.” His alcohol-tainted breath hits my face.
“I didn’t mean it.” My need to placate him takes over. I’ve gone back to the woman he needs when he’s like this.
“I thought you were learning, Mackenzie.” His free hand moves to my face, holding my jaw in his tight grip. I know it’s not a question, but I answer anyway.
“From now on, Chad. I’ll remember. I’ll learn. It was a slip. I’m sorry.” I sound like a pathetic, weak person to my own ears, but I don’t care. I just need to stop this before it gets out of hand.
“No.” I barely gasp through the hold he has on me.
“Then why do you insist on pushing me?” I don’t have an answer right away. Do I like pushing him? Maybe some part of me wanted to push. Do I deserve this as a result? No. Do I want this type of love?
“I… I don’t know why. But I promise it won’t ever happen again.” I scramble for the words he needs to hear, attempting to calm the beast I know is almost free of his cage, but I’m too late. It’s too late.
The slap comes next. The sting burns my face, bringing stars to my eyes.
“You do know why. Don’t lie to me. You like it when I’m angry. If I put my hand down these jeans, I’d know how much you like it. The thought alone makes my cock rock hard.” I swallow, forcing the impending vomit from coming up as he eases his zipper down. He wouldn’t.
“Please, Chad. Not like this,” I beg. The last time he touched me, I believed he loved me. I thought we were moving past the ugliness he had tainted our marriage with. Now, in this moment, it only brings back the hate, fear, and disgust I felt that night in our bathroom. And as much as I despise him for making me experience all those emotions, I hate myself just as much for believing he changed. For what I have let happen to me at the hands of the man I pledged my love to.