Chapter 10 Mckenna
TEN
MCKENNA
The afterglow of sex with Maverick clings to me for the remainder of the week. The tension I carry in my shoulders unravels. The thoughts that plague me on a never-ending loop close. Hope eats up some of my fear and I feel excited about the future.
Closing the trunk of my car, I count the number of reuseable grocery bags I stowed. Five. I run through the list of items I purchased and nod to myself. I have all the necessary ingredients to cook chicken and mushroom wellington for Mav and me tonight.
Rounding to the driver’s side, a white note tucked underneath the windshield of my car causes me to pause. Was that note there before I put the groceries in the trunk?
I shake my head. No, I don’t remember seeing it.
It’s probably a flyer. I squint at the nearby parked cars but don’t see any fluttering papers on their windshields.
My stomach sinks and a wave of nausea bubbles up my throat. Because I know. I know it’s him.
Plucking up the paper, I read it and fist it in my hand, tears burning the backs of my eyelids.
Have you missed me? Because I’ve really missed you.
For a heartbeat, I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think.
Then, fight-or-flight kicks in with an overwhelming surge of adrenaline and I whip around, looking for him. But there’s no one. Nothing.
A handful of cars, a bright blue sky, and a nearby gas station. A practically empty gas station.
New fears ricochet through my mind. Is he hiding in the back of my car? Underneath it? Is he watching me right now from behind a leafy tree?
I look over my shoulder. Should I take refuge in the supermarket? But is that where he snuck off to? Is he waiting for me among the produce section or the snack aisle?
Floaters appear in my peripheral vision and a sheet of ice coats my skin.
Where the hell is he? Why is he doing this to me?
A car driving by slows and the driver honks the horn.
“Oh God!” I exclaim, practically jumping out of my skin. My hand darts to the base of my throat and rests there as I gulp for oxygen.
But the red car passes by and the driver isn’t Bran.
I stuff the note into the back pocket of my jean shorts, recoiling from touching the paper, from pressing the pad of my thumb against the words that Bran scrawled, and fling myself into my car.
I instantly lock the doors, turn the ignition, and drive straight home.
My hands shake and my mind whirls. My heart gallops and my stomach twists.
On some level, I know I shouldn’t be driving but I have to get home.
I have to put as much distance between the supermarket and myself.
I drive slowly, my eyes scanning my surroundings.
I clock the drivers who pass me on the road, I constantly glance in my rearview mirror, I study the sidewalks at red lights.
But there’s no trace of Bran.
He’s disappeared again.
And for a moment, I question if he ever left me a note at all. Of course, I know he did. But he has the unique capability to make me question everything about myself—my decision making, my judgment, even my character.
I call Mav, Dad, and the police the moment I’m locked into the brownstone. I darted inside, leaving the grocery bags in the trunk for Mav to bring in.
He does fifteen minutes later, having run home from the studio to be with me.
As soon as he appears in the kitchen entrance, I rush him. He wraps his arms around me and I half collapse, letting him absorb my body weight, my exhaustion, my unraveling fear.
“You’re safe, beauty,” Mav murmurs as he tightens his hold on me.
I breathe him in, regulating my heartbeat. “I never saw him.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t see you,” Mav notes ominously.
I pull back to look at him. His jaw is tight, his eyes are blazing, and I know he’s furious.
“Sorry,” he bites out, wincing. “I just hate that this shit hasn’t been solved.”
“I know.”
“But we’re going to get him, Mckenna. I promise.”
Nodding, I bury my face back into his shirt. He holds me until the police arrive. Dad’s traveling for work and out of town but called three times already to check in.
After I speak with the police, incessant knocking sounds at the door.
Fear skates up my spine and I pale, staring at Mav.
But when Mav checks who it is, he sighs and pulls the door open. Drew bursts inside.
“Kenny!” he exclaims, relief streaking across his expression when he sees me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Honest,” I say, wanting to reassure him.
I gave him the day off since I was planning to study at home and then have dinner with Maverick.
“The grocery store run was an impulse.” My eyes dart to Mav.
“I wanted to make chicken and mushroom wellington for dinner. I wanted to do something. Feel like we were going on a real date and…it was stupid.”
Drew shakes his head. “It’s a normal reaction to want to get out. I just wish you had called me. I would have come with you.”
“I know.” I gesture to the front door two police officers walked out of a few minutes earlier. “The police are going to see if they can pull security footage from the supermarket and gas station next door.”
Drew nods.
“They’re treating it as an ongoing harassment investigation,” Mav supplies.
Drew nods again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Mckenna.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say. “It’s mine.”
Mav wraps an arm around me and I melt into his side.
“I’ll be here tonight, Drew. We’ll see you in the morning,” Mav says, his tone controlled even though his words are clipped.
But I know he’s not angry with Drew. Or me. He’s angry about this situation, he’s frustrated that we’re still walking on eggshells in our daily lives, he’s furious that Bran’s been MIA and no one, not the police, not the security Mav hired, not even Bran’s father, can find him.
After Drew leaves, Mav turns on some music, and we cook dinner together in the kitchen.
Slowly, I regain my equilibrium. But Mav remains tense and closed off for the remainder of the evening. He’s lost in his thoughts, his eyes clouded with shadows I dislike.
After dinner, Mav and I sip our mint tea.
“I want to stay here tonight,” he announces, his eyes studying my expression.
“Okay,” I say slowly.
“I’ll crash on the couch so—”
“No.” I shake my head. “Stay with me, Mav. Be with me.”
He frowns. “Mckenna—”
“Maverick, after what we just did a few nights ago?” I gesture to upstairs, where Mav ravished me, made me see stars, and put some of my broken back together again.
He sighs. “I know, beauty. I just, fuck, I don’t want to blur lines when things are uncertain.”
“We’re not uncertain, Mav.”
“No,” he agrees. “I didn’t mean us.”
“I’ve never been surer about anything,” I admit. “Be with me, Mav.”
His eyes soften and a ghost of a smile trails across his lips. “Okay. Yes.”
When Mav slips into bed beside me and wraps his arm around my waist, I exhale deeply. My limbs relax and my mind shuts down the anxious thoughts it’s stuck on. Today was shitty. Terrorizing.
But with Mav’s body curled around mine, I fall asleep and sleep soundly.
The following days are tense. It’s as if I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I study at home in the mornings. Allegra visits twice in the afternoons, bringing cobb salads followed by ice cream sundaes. Drew hovers nearby in case I decide to head to the library or run an errand.
Mav comes over every evening. We eat dinner together, watch a movie, and climb into bed exhausted. In some ways, it reminds me of when we first started falling in like. We began as roommates, but our relationship morphed into a friendship that grew into attraction.
Snuggled up against Mav each night is the calmest and quietest part of my day. For those stretch of hours, I feel whole. When I turn to him and slip my hands underneath his shirt, dragging them up the planes of his hard body, he gives in and tugs me closer.
“I want you more than air, Mckenna,” he whispers in my hair. “But I want you to be sure. To be in the right headspace. Tell me what you need, beauty.”
“You,” I murmur, shivering from the anticipation of being with him.
Mav studies me for a long beat before his mouth finds mine. And then, it’s magic and fireworks and the start of our next chapter.
Each night in our bed, Mav and I make love and it’s salvation. A homecoming.
He proves to me that even when life is a mess, I can count on him. It’s a truth I cling to. Maverick and his unconditional love for me.
And then, after days, weeks, of nothing—I see him.
Drew and I are leaving the bursar’s office where I picked up my transcript and he’s right fucking there.
He cuts across the quad like he never left, like he wasn’t summoned back to Texas, like our fathers didn’t pull strings behind our backs to make him disappear.
“Drew.” I clutch his arm and he’s instantly on high alert.
Following my line of vision, Drew swears and relocates me to behind a tree, hiding my frame. My arm reaches out for support, my palm grazing along the rough bark, as I lean my weight onto the trunk.
Drew leans against the tree trunk casually, his cell phone already pressed to his ear. But I can’t make out his words. Sound cuts off as I stare at Bran, clocking his proximity to me, studying his features.
Bran walks with swagger. His shoulders are tossed back, his head held high, as if he has nothing to be ashamed of. As if he doesn’t need to cower.
My stomach turns, nausea roiling as my fingertips clutch at the tree.
Horror washes over me as I realize, he doesn’t need to cower. Because no one knows the truth.
The realization slams into me like a sucker punch. I’ve been living in hell, in terror, and not counting my family and closest circle of friends, no one knows the truth.
As far as the law school’s student body is aware, Bran withdrew to return home for a family emergency. Of course, many questioned it. Not many students would walk away a handful of months before graduation.
But the dark stain of his actions doesn’t plague him. Hell, it doesn’t even follow him.