Chapter 6
6
RAINN
Kissing Mac was a mistake. I knew it would be, but I’ve never been able to tell him no. Who am I kidding? I wanted to kiss him.
Slumping against the door, I lean my head back and listen to his rapid breaths and a few sobs. I fucking did this. Because I’m needy. And all I think about is myself.
That’s not true, but I’m in a punishing mood, so I go with it. “If I say sorry, will you kick my ass?”
He chokes out a laugh. “Stop trying to take the blame.” He pauses, and all I can hear is the cracking of his knuckles. I want to stop him. Kiss every single one. Fuck. I’m hopeless. “It’s not your fault. I’m just confused,” he says.
“Same.”
“And horny as heck.”
I close my eyes against the wave of lust. Hold in the words: I can help with that. Instead, I say, “Same.”
“I’m not…” He takes a shuddering breath. “I’m not into guys. At all.”
His words gut me. Dashing the hope, I knew not to trust. “I know.”
“You never told me you were.” I can hear the hurt in his voice. “But you announced it to millions.”
“I’m—” I catch the word before it can escape.
“I swear, if you apologize again…gosh darn it, Rainn. You could have told me.”
“No. I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t trust you.” I try to hold on to the words, but they tumble out anyway. “I couldn’t admit one thing without admitting the other.”
“What—” But he stops like maybe he’s reconsidering.
I tell him anyway. But only in my mind. I love you, Mac.
Not in a romantic way. That kind of love disappears instantly like a wisp of smoke floating away. What I feel for Mac is real. Solid. Never ending. Doesn’t matter. I can’t say that to him. He wouldn’t understand.
“I’m…attracted to you.” My face burns hot with shame. Not sure why. I just tried to suck his tongue down my throat. Pretty sure he already knows. “I like kissing you.”
More silence. More popping. When he speaks, his voice is soft. I lean my head against the door to hear him. “I like kissing you too.” A self-deprecating laugh. “And it’s freaking me the heck out.”
I bite back the apology. “Come on out. We can order dessert and watch Bleach .” Anime is another love we share. “I promise to keep my lips to myself.”
“Idiot.” But I hear shuffling, and I jump to my feet and wipe the tear streaks from my face. The door opens, and he gives me a crooked smile. My favorite Mac smile. Sweet. Shy.
God, I am so fucked.
We indulge in cake, because it makes everything better, and anime. And I fight back the urge to touch him, which is now stronger than ever. Kissing him while sober was a big mistake because now I never want to stop.
Our last day in Vegas is awkward. It’s like we’ve forgotten how to act around each other. And now we won’t have the girls around as a buffer. As we take turns showering and dressing, we avoid looking at each other. Which means I don’t watch where I’m going, and I run into Mac. I almost apologize until Mac glares at me.
We don’t say a word on the elevator. Just Mac popping his knuckles and me not telling him to stop. The girls would make things easier, but I’d rather things be awkward and have Mac all to myself.
“What should we do?” I ask once we reach Las Vegas Boulevard. The sun is shining, the buildings sparkle, even in daylight, and the day seems promising. “Casino?”
Mac shakes his head. “Too noisy. And a waste of money.”
“Good point.”
“Zip line?” Amusement sparkles in his dark eyes.
I laugh. “Hell, no.”
“Let’s walk around.” We check out the sights and end up by the Tia Taco Wedding chapel.
“Here’s our special place, darling,” I say, waggling my eyebrows so he knows I’m kidding.
“Should we get a picture?”
I stare at Mac. Is he serious? Not that I’d pass up a chance for a picture or a reason to stand close to him. “Sure. Why not?”
“Might as well put on our rings,” Mac says, taking his from around his neck and slipping the ring on his finger. What the hell?
But again, not questioning it. After I put mine on, we hold up our hands to get the rings in the shot and grin stupidly at the camera. As if our wedding had been a special occasion and not alcohol-induced stupidity.
After the picture, Mac grabs my arm and pulls me inside. It’s tackier than I remember. Not that I remember much. But it seems sterile. Impersonal. Which makes sense. We immediately get roped into witnessing someone else’s wedding. You’d think I’d be done with weddings, but this one—unlike the others over the last few weeks—has zero consequences for me. Which makes it kinda fun. We sign as witnesses and take pictures of the happy couple for them. They seem sober. Which makes their marriage a thousand times more likely to last than ours.
Mac has a chat with Elvis about things to see in Las Vegas, which is why, fifteen minutes later, we’re staring at a fifty-five-foot-tall metal sculpture of a praying mantis built atop a dump truck. Container Park has everything from shopping to galleries to eateries. We eat at an amazing barbeque place, although not as good as KC barbeque, and stroll back to our hotel.
Even with the awkward moments, today is close to perfect. Only marred by the phone call I get from my dad after dinner. I push away my nervousness and answer the phone. “Hey, Dad.”
“Is Mac there with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Put it on speaker. This is for both of you.”
Thank God we’re already in our room. I press speaker and can hear him breathing. I mouth “Dad” to Mac.
“Okay. We’re ready.”
Not really.
“Remember what I said—straight home tomorrow. Then we’re going to have a long talk about your future. It’s time you both start taking things more seriously.”
I roll my eyes, and Mac presses his lips together to keep from laughing. Mac and I share an apartment in the Kansas City area where we both attend college. I’m starting my third year of med school at the University of Kansas. Mac will be a senior at Kansas State University. He started school a few years after me while he figured out what he wanted to do. But in May, he’ll graduate with a bachelor’s degree in agriculture and a minor in equestrian studies. How can we be more serious than that?
But Dad has an answer to my unasked question. “Rainn, you will marry and get on with your life. Cher or another girl. Doesn’t matter. Time for you to stop messing around.”
So we’re just ignoring the fact that I’m bisexual? I’m not surprised.
“Mac, I talked to your dad. He has a similar message for you.”
I’m not so sure. But I also don’t think Deputy McVay would ever contradict my dad.
“Don’t test me on this, Rainn. I haven’t forgotten that little stunt at your wedding. As long as you’re living in my house and I’m paying for your school, you will obey me. Do you understand?”
I want to tell him to fuck off. Mac squeezes my arm. I say as calmly as I can, “Yes, sir.”
“Mac?”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff Harding.”
He hangs up, and I let out a scream. Fuck. I rub my eyes. “Sorry. My dad?—”
Mac narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare apologize for your piece-of-crap father.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
Then he shakes his head and grins. “Who’s gonna tell him we’re already married?”
That night, we again sleep in separate beds. But we turn toward each other. If I need him, I can reach out and touch him.
After we land at the Kansas City International Airport the next day, our roommate Slade picks us up. We don’t stay long at our apartment. Mac leaves his truck, and I drive the hour to Cedar Ridge. The closer we get to our hometown, the quieter we both become.
“Hell, Mac. I wish—” I’m not even sure I can say the words. “I hate being dependent on him. He’s such an asshole.”
Mac puts his hand over mine. That’s when I realize I’ve been clenching my fist. “We’re going to figure this out.” He takes a deep breath, and I brace myself for his next words. “I’ll talk to Casey. See what our options are.”
I swallow. “Good idea.” But I’m not sure I’m going to like our options. I don’t want Mac to stay married to me unless he wants to, obviously. But I like the idea of being linked to each other.
That way, no one can force us apart.
Cedar Ridge is in Northeast Missouri. It’s a typical small town with a river on the North side a few blocks past the train tracks. Old buildings line the square. Some historical and preserved. Others are not as fortunate. Memories of Mac are the only good things about this town. Just seeing the sign on the outskirts of town makes it difficult to breathe.
I drop Mac off and drive home to face my dad. Dread pools in my stomach as I walk into the quiet house. I drop my stuff in my room, wanting to stay there and hide, but I don’t. Not that it would do me any good. Sheriff Harding doesn’t believe in privacy. That’s how he found Zye’s letters to begin with. Going through my room. But my Star Wars comforter reminds me of Mac. I take a deep breath and head downstairs.
My stepmother, Belinda, is in the kitchen making dinner. My dad is probably still at work.
“Good trip?”
I want to laugh. My wedding imploded. I threw my dad out of said wedding. Then we ran off to Vegas, and I accidentally married my best friend. But other than that…
“Yeah. It was good.”
“I’m glad you had a good time, dear.”
The kitchen sparkles. The floors are clean enough to eat off of. In fact, everything in the house is just as it should be. Belinda’s a good little wife. Maybe that’s harsh. She’s never been mean. Always nice. But like Mac’s mother, she never challenges anything my father does. Is she that clueless, or is she complicit?
Dinner is at six. It’s always at six. My father arrives just in time, and we eat without talking. Every once in a while, Dad asks a question, and I respond as minimally as possible.
“Did Mac get home okay?”
No. I left him on the side of the road . “Yes.”
He stops eating and puts his fork on his plate. Here we go. Adrenaline races through me. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Or explode. “How’s Cher doing?”
“She’s fine. Back at work.”
After a quick nod, he returns to his roast and potatoes. “I like her. She’s exactly what you need.”
“She’s such a nice girl,” Belinda says with a smile. As if I don’t already know. As if I had anything to do with it.
I’m not sure what they expect me to say, so I say nothing.
The only sound comes from the clink of silverware on china and my dad’s satisfied grunts. The food is always delicious. But I’m not hungry. I’m too nervous to eat. I glance over to the empty spot where a place setting used to sit.
Belinda follows my gaze. “Have you heard from He—Henry?” Her eyes return to her food as she waits for my answer. Dad tenses. And I try to head off the impending blast.
“Working through the summer, I think. Getting in extra hours. Last I heard.”
Dad grunts, scoots back his chair, and stands, signaling an end to dinner. Belinda immediately starts gathering the plates even though there’s food still on mine and hers. She nods at my full plate. “Are you feeling all right, dear?”
How can I possibly be all right?
I’m not sure what prompts me to take my life into my own hands, but the question has bugged me since our confrontation at the wedding. “Dad?” Then I continue before he can turn around. “You said Mom didn’t go on a cruise.” He said it at the wedding, but there’s no sense in reminding him of that. Where is she ? But I can’t ask that. “Do you know where she went after dropping us off?”
The crash startles me. Belinda stares at the broken plate on the floor and then at me, her eyes wide.
“Rainn,” Dad snaps, startling Belinda. “In my office.” He stomps away.
Belinda’s eyes dart to mine, her look unreadable.
Once we’re in his office, Dad towers over me with his hands on his hips. “Did you work things out with Cher?”
So this is how we’re doing it. “Yes. We’re good.”
“Don’t be a smartass, Rainn. Have you set another date?”
“No.” I try to stop there, but his glare has me adding, “I’m not sure Cher is ready.”
He’s suddenly in my face and my legs hit the edge of his desk. “Then you make sure she gets ready. Or find another girl. I don’t care. Just stop this other nonsense.”
I don’t ask what he means. Being bisexual. Attracted to guys. Just like with Zye, he wants to pretend it’s fleeting. A phase.
After a few moments and no response from me, he says, “As long as we’re clear.” He starts to walk out of the room and stops, his back stiff. Without turning around, he says, “Your mother needed help.”
“Help with what?”
For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to answer. Then he turns and I’m not sure what I expected to see in his eyes. Pity? Disgust? Certainly not satisfaction. Is he enjoying this? “Your mom had a problem with drugs. She spent her birthday high. Then partied herself right into rehab.”
His words hurt. But they’re not unexpected. She’d disappear into her craft room, leaving me to care for my younger brother. Leaving me to take care of everything. Some days, she wouldn’t even get out of bed.
He watches my face and goes in for the kill. “That brother of yours drove her to it.” He sneers, and I brace myself for the rest. “You were better off without either of them in your life.”
His footsteps fade as he leaves me there, shaking with rage. I want to stomp on his sheriff hat until it’s nothing but an ugly lump of brown fabric. Throw his framed photo with him and the mayor against the wall just to hear it shatter.
But mostly, I want to hurt him.
I don’t stomp up the stairs for a couple of reasons. One, I’m not four like Mac’s sister Kylee. And two, I’m not keen on facing my dad again. Several texts come in from Mac as I make my way to the sanctity of my room. They feel like a reward for good behavior.
I can tell it’s Mac because we have Star Wars -specific ringtones for each other. It seemed like a fun idea at sixteen. Now I just like knowing whether it’s Mac texting me or not. Others can wait.
“ Do. Or do not. There is no try .” Yoda’s voice and words from Empire Strikes Back alert me to another text.
Mac
Is your dad being a fudge muffin?
No response. I have my answer. Ignore him.
Are you okay?
Warmth spreads through my chest. Like a hug. What the hell is wrong with me? I’d gotten over my stupid crush that started during a thunderstorm at fifteen. But I guess marrying the guy and practicing kissing might have restarted it.
This infatuation will only bring pain, but that’s Future Rainn’s problem. For now, the worry and care in his texts overshadow my dad’s abrasiveness.
Me
I’m surviving.
If I add I miss you, that would be too much, right? We’ve barely spent a day apart. But my room seems lonely without him.
Mac
Talked to Casey. Friday is the soonest she can see us. 1:30. Her office.
My mood plummets. Happy feelings gone. His sister. The lawyer. So we can get our marriage annulled.
It’s the right thing to do. And it won’t change anything. Mac and I will still be friends. I’m not losing him. So, why does it bother me?
The next day, I do my laundry but leave the rest of my bag packed. No matter what happens, I can’t stay here. I can’t breathe. And dodging all the landmines my father throws around is exhausting.
I text Mac.
Me
I need out of this house.
Mac
Pool?
Me
I’ll meet you there.
I slip down the stairs as quietly as possible. But it’s not quiet enough. “Where are you going?” Belinda asks from the hall.
“Mac and I are meeting at The Loose Brick to shoot a few games of pool. Want me to get anything for you on my way back?”
She hesitates. Studying me. I’m good at this. Hiding my feelings. Especially disgust. “No, thank you, sweetie. Supper’s at six.”
As if supper isn’t always at six. Yes, there are times as a sheriff that Dad isn’t home by then, but those days are few and far between. He has plenty of minions—his deputies—who work late when needed so he doesn’t have to. Including Mac’s father. How many meals has Deputy McVay missed so my dad didn’t have to be inconvenienced?
As soon as I close the door behind me, I suck in a deep breath of freedom. It feels deceptively real. But this town is my father’s domain. His kingdom. With gossip and spies and power.
Still, not being in that house is a relief.
Is that why I don’t want to get divorced? Getting married to a man was an act of defiance. Even if I did it while drunk. Getting it annulled is a step in the wrong direction.
But it’s not fair to Mac. He’ll want to get married someday. To a woman. It’s selfish to hang on to him.
So I’ll play pool with him and spend as much time together as possible. Then we’ll meet at his sister’s law practice, and I’ll do whatever Mac needs me to do.