12. Mav
TWELVE
MAV
Our honeymoon is officially over.
Fortunately, so is the rabid fascination of the public with our Vegas wedding.
As a handful of photos from our time in the Azores circulate in magazines and on blogs, Mckenna and I become old news.
We’re no longer a new and thrilling, opposites-attract, unlikely relationship.
Now, we’re a boring married couple living out our wedded bliss in an old brownstone in Boston.
It doesn’t have the same appeal.
For that, I’m lucky.
Because when we land in Boston, the paparazzi presence has cooled off, and Mckenna and I are free to resume parts of our ordinary lives.
Even the parts I don’t fucking like.
“I hate the thought of you seeing him at school,” I say over dinner the night before Mckenna’s semester starts.
“I know,” she sighs.
“But I’ve worked too hard to let Bran win.”
Anger festers in my veins.
I can’t wait to fucking bury Bran.
My skin crawls at the thought of Mckenna having to navigate interactions with him for the next few months.
My stomach feels slick with nerves for her well-being.
“Mckenna, I’m scared for you.” My words are half choked as I admit the truth.
Aren’t you supposed to do that in a marriage?
Be honest with each other?
We promised to communicate, and I need Mckenna to know my fears, so I lay them out for her.
“What if he corners you?” I ask.
“What if he realizes that you remember the truth from that night? What if he pushes you—both mentally and emotionally—even harder than he has in the past?”
She shakes her head.
“I got this, Mav. I have a few classes with Emily and Robyn. Honestly, I feel much better this semester. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. I feel stronger with you by my side.”
“Just, be alert, okay? Let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable. I need you to confide in me. I need us to talk about things.”
“Of course,” she agrees, taking a bite of her chicken and pasta.
She chews thoughtfully before smiling at me.
“Can you believe how different things are from the start of last semester?”
“You mean that we’re now married instead of roommates?”
Mckenna laughs, and the sound is carefree.
Genuine. It cools some of my simmering anger about this shit with Bran.
Man, I love the sound of her laugh.
It’s the best music I’ve ever heard and that’s saying something.
“Exactly.” She grins.
“It’s wild, isn’t it?”
“Ah, life with a rockstar.” I stretch back in my chair, holding my arms wide.
Mckenna tosses a balled-up napkin at me, and I swat it away before it can hit my face.
“You’re still cocky.”
“You still like it,” I reply.
Mckenna blushes, and I grin.
“I do, but don’t be too cocky around my dad,” she advises.
“You worried about me meeting your father?”
Mckenna arches an eyebrow.
“Are you going to tell me dads usually like you?”
“God no,” I laugh, wriggling my eyebrows back at her.
“But moms do.”
Mckenna groans at my lame joke.
I grin.
“So, tomorrow night?” I confirm the dinner plans.
“Yep, at Carter’s Steakhouse. I’ll meet you there since I have a late class.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
“Good. I’m actually excited to meet Jeannie. But I still like having you there as a buffer. It makes things easier.”
“Is your mom upset that we’re meeting your father for dinner?”
Mckenna shrugs.
“I’m sure she will be, but she hasn’t replied to my messages or calls, so that’s an argument to have after the fact.”
“Got it,” I say, but I really don’t understand.
My mom is nothing like Mckenna’s and it’s strange to me that her mother plays hot and cold mind games with her daughter.
My mom is all about light, laughter, love, and art.
The last thing she would do is leave me on read when she could reply straightaway to my messages.
But I’m too worried about Mckenna’s interactions with Bran to dedicate emotional bandwidth to her mother’s issues.
We keep the conversation light for the remainder of dinner.
“I got this,” I say, pointing to the dishes.
“Thanks for cooking.”
“I’m glad you liked the pasta. I’m going to get some things ready for tomorrow.”
“Sure,” I say as she climbs the stairs to her old bedroom.
While we’ve taken a giant leap forward since talking things through on our honeymoon, our daily lives in Boston have mostly remained unchanged.
I mean, the sex and sleeping in one bed and cuddling with Mckenna have been top fucking tier.
Those recent developments have been everything I dreamed of and more.
But the daily routine of morning coffee and her going to class, me hitting the studio, and connecting in the evening for movie watching and casual hanging out is mostly the same.
The only other big change is I’m tuned in to Mckenna’s life in a way I wasn’t before.
This time, things are personal and I’m struggling to balance the protective feelings I have for Mckenna.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and help her heal.
Once I hear her bedroom door close, I load the dishwasher and wipe down the countertops.
Then, I plop down at the kitchen island and dial Aiden.
“Hey,” he answers on the first ring.
“What do you got for me?”
Aiden sighs.
“You sure you don’t want to loop Kenny in on this?”
“I want to keep her safe,” I remind him.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “You’re gonna need to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My anger, edged in concern, flares.
“Bran’s not just the son of a politician. He belongs to a political dynasty.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The information is readily available, but you have to dig a bit because he’s the bastard son.”
That gives me a little thrill.
Serves the bastard right.
“Go on.”
“Bran’s father had an affair with the housekeeper years ago. Bran has his father’s last name but didn’t acquire his political connections until later, after his mom passed.”
I frown, recalling the information I pulled up weeks ago.
“The Burton family owns?—”
“Oil refineries in Texas,” Aiden supplies.
“They’re heavily involved in Texas state politics and gunning to make waves on a national scale.”
“Right.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“So, what happened?”
“Bran’s mother, Isabel, was bought off and shipped off when she discovered she was pregnant. Since Bran’s father was married at the time, it would have made headlines. She relocated to the northeast, gave birth to Bran, and cared for him until her death when he was fifteen.”
I groan knowing what’s coming.
“That’s when his father, recently divorced, re-entered the picture. With Bran older and his mother gone, Bran didn’t pose the same type of scandal. So, his father took him under his wing. Set him up at a boarding school in Massachusetts and paved the way for him to attend law school.”
“And enter the political sphere,” I realize.
“Following in dear old dad’s footsteps.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s no other siblings?”
Aiden sighs.
“Of course there are. And they all serve the family in one way or another. Branson has two older sisters and a brother. The brother was involved in several legal scrapes that blew the start of his political career. Since then, he’s taken on a leadership position in the family business. One sister is a lawyer, the other runs a top public relations company.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
Talk about building a powerful team.
“There’s also a cousin: Eric Burton. His father is brothers with Branson’s. He has political aspirations and is running for Congress.”
I sigh heavily, redirecting the conversation away from Bran’s family and back to Mckenna.
“If Mckenna, hypothetically speaking, were to press charges against Bran, we’re looking at…”
“A full-blown scandal,” Aiden states.
“I don’t trust him.”
“You shouldn’t. If Bran thinks Mckenna poses a threat, he’ll retaliate in some way,” Aiden says, his voice even, his words fucking torture to digest.
“He doesn’t have a reason to think she’s a threat to him. Too much time has passed.”
“Maybe.”
I close my eyes as fear drips down my spine.
“But it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“I want security on her,” I say, knowing it’s the right call the second I say it.
Aiden swears. “We gonna loop Kenny in on this?”
Upstairs, I hear the shower faucet turn on.
She’s getting ready for her first day of classes.
For her final semester in law school.
If she knows how fucked up Bran’s backstory is, if she feels a more significant threat emanating from him, it will hinder her progress.
The last thing I want is to derail her studies.
She’s worked so hard and has overcome many obstacles to begin her final semester of law school.
If I can keep her safe and her mind clear from worries so she can focus on school, then that’s what I’ll do.
“Nope,” I reply.
“Fuck, Mav, are you sure about this?”
“Aiden, I’ve never been surer about anything in my life than Mckenna’s safety. Her security. I hate the idea of that piece of shit sharing oxygen with her, never mind the same classes and corridors. Get someone on her starting tomorrow. To and from school and the entire time she’s on campus. She’s making progress, man. She’s fucking trying. And I won’t stand by and let that fucker mess with her more than he already has. My girl is gonna graduate law school and launch a spectacular career.”
“And Bran?”
I chuckle, but the sound is downright sinister.
“Gonna watch him crash and burn. Gonna bury him. Gonna make his father hate his existence even more than when he was the unwanted bastard. I’m gonna ruin his goddamn life.”
Aiden sighs again.
“I’ll line up her security.”
“Thank you, Aiden.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“You know, this isn’t really my thing. Gathering info on the down-low, arranging security details...but if I’m reading between the lines correctly, I can’t let this shit slide. Not for any woman but especially not for Kenny.”
Aiden lets his assumption hang in the air.
It’s a conversation we’ve already had but I understand—if he’s stepping this far out of his comfort zone, he wants to be sure he’s doing it for the right, the moral, reasons.
I work a swallow, my throat tightening.
“You’re reading the situation correctly.”
“Fuck,” Aiden mutters.
“I’m sorry, Mav. I know this can’t be...easy.”
“Hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Holding yourself back from Bran?”
I snort.
Yeah, that’s pretty fucking hard too.
I clear my throat and give him the truth.
“Holding myself—all the anger and frustration and hurt that twists me up inside—back from my wife.”