Chapter 9 Mira
MIRA
I wake up warm, fuzzy, and wrapped in thick, bulky arms that feel like my own suit of armor protecting me from the world.
Finn’s broad, strong chest rises and falls against my back, and his breath puffs softly against my neck and ear.
His rough hand is low on my belly, protective and possessive of me even while he sleeps.
I don’t move. I don’t even open my eyes.
I don’t want to break the spell of the moment.
For the first time since I can remember, I actually feel truly wanted by a man. I feel loved. Finn doesn’t want me because it’ll make him popular with my dad. He wants me because of me. Because of who I am. And that delights me.
Images of last night play through my head like a blissful romantic movie. The way he looked at me, worshipped me—even the way he talked dirty to me and treated me like I was his. It was all just so incredible.
I take a deep breath and happily sigh.
This must be what it feels like.
Love…
But not just love—belonging to somebody who actually cares. Because when I’m with Finn, that’s how I feel. Like he actually cares for me.
I drift off again, lulled to sleep by the soft, rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. But when I wake up again later, I’m alone.
The bed beside me is still warm, but there’s no Finn. In his place is a letter, scribbled in messy handwriting.
Princess, I got called into work. Didn’t want to wake you when you looked so gorgeous sleeping. Call you later. Love you.
My whole body goes warm and bubbly, tingling all over.
Love you.
I lift the note to my nose and inhale. I can still smell Finn’s body on it. I press it to my chest like it’s a treasure. It’s like having a piece of him here with me despite his absence.
I nearly vault out of bed, filled with an effervescent energy that makes me want to dance naked through the house or go bounce on a trampoline like a little girl. Instead, I go into the shower and stand beneath the warm water, humming to myself like a goofball.
I reach down and press my hand against my stomach, remembering Finn’s words from last night.
“I’m going to breed you, Mira. I’m going to pump my load inside your fresh little cunt and put a baby in you. Then you’ll be truly mine.”
So fricking hot.
I try to picture what my belly would look like pregnant. Big and round, like a watermelon stuffed under my shirt. It’s such a thrill to think about. I can’t imagine what Sandy’s going to say. Not to mention my parents.
But to be honest, I don’t care. Mom will end up being supportive.
She always has been, and we’ve formed an incredible bond over the last couple of years since she got sick.
Dad, on the other hand, is going to be furious.
But so what? For the first time, I don’t feel like a pawn on his chess board.
I’d rather scatter all the pieces to the floor than play his game any longer, and if that means leaving the family entirely and going to live with Finn, then that’s what I’ll do.
I’m his now.
I don’t care where we live, just as long as there’s room for our babies.
As long as we have a cast iron pan that I can use to make cinnamon pancakes.
I’m a crappy cook right now, and that’s all I can make, but I’ll learn.
I’ll be a good woman for Finn. A good mother for our children. And I’ll be happy. We all will.
The whole world feels different today. Brighter. More alive. The colors are more saturated. My whole body feels lighter, despite the soreness between my legs, reminding me of who I gave myself to last night.
I know it was my first time, but my God is Finn enormous. I can’t believe I survived a pounding from that monster. But all I know is I’m ready for some more. Soon.
I’m smiling as I head downstairs. I’m no longer Mira Coolidge, the future wife to Tyler Beckensworth, the hedge fund douchebag. I’m just Mira, Finn’s girl.
Should I get myself a leather jacket? Maybe a motorcycle too? I wonder how he’d react to seeing me that way.
I pass my mom’s room on the way to the kitchen. Her door is open slightly, so I knock and step inside. She’s reading Agatha Christie by the window and looks up and smiles as I come in.
“You look different this morning,” she proclaims. I instantly feel myself blushing. There’s that mom sense of hers again.
“Oh?” I ask, trying not to let her see me blushing. “I’m probably just red from the shower. How are you feeling—?”
“No, that’s not it,” she interrupts. “You—you’re in love, Mira!”
I can’t even hide it. My jaw drops, and I have to place my palm over my mouth to stop myself from giggling like a school girl. “Is it that obvious?”
My mom nods eagerly. “And it isn’t Tyler.”
“It’s not.” I shake my head.
“Well?” she presses, obviously excited. “Who is he, and when do I get to meet him?”
She pats the bed by her chair, and I go over and take a seat beside her. “Well, I know you might not believe this, but he’s a mechanic at a bike shop in town. We met when he fixed my car battery for me.”
Mom’s eyes gleam as I go over the story with her, leaving out all the bits too hot for TV, of course.
It’s clear she’s almost as excited as I am about me falling in love with Finn.
But I guess that’s what being a mother is all about—being happy for your children.
Hopefully I’ll know firsthand in about nine months.
“That’s wonderful,” she says as I finish the story. “Just wonderful, sweetheart. I couldn’t be happier for you!”
“Thanks, Mom.” I smile. I’m trying my best not to think about just how she’s going to manage to continue her treatments now that I’m not going to be marrying Tyler, but she sees it in my eyes and pats me on the knee.
“Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be fine.”
“Would you stop reading my mind?” I reply with a smirk.
“That’s what moms do,” she laughs. “If you’re going to the kitchen, would you mind bringing me some tea? I’ve got a bit of a headache, and it always seems to help.”
“Of course,” I say, standing. “I’ll be right back.”
I slip out of Mom’s room and head down the hall to the kitchen, but when I pass through the foyer, I spot a courier approaching the door. I open it just as he’s about to knock.
“Delivery for Mira Coolidge.”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Here you are,” he replies, handing me an inconspicuous brown paper package. I sign for it, and he turns to go. I look down and realize there’s no return address.
“Excuse me, who sent this?” I ask, but the man simply turns and shrugs.
“You’d have to call the office. I just deliver ‘em.”
“Right…” I mutter as I close the door. I head into the kitchen and tear the package open. The contents spill out onto the counter, and instantly, I stop breathing.
Photos. Dated two days ago.
Of Finn…
Standing way too close to a woman in the parking lot of his shop. She’s tall, exotic, curvy, and wearing a skirt that’s barely even there. Something you definitely don’t go run errands in. Her hand is on his chest while he looks down at her.
“What…?” My voice catches in my throat.
I brush the photo aside to reveal another beneath. She’s leaning in…
Another…her lips brushing against his cheek…
And the final photo…their lips pressed together, his hand up her skirt…
My stomach drops and a wave of nausea hits me. My heart is pounding like a drum as I stare at the demonic collage as it taunts me as if to say, “Ha, you fell for it! He played you!”
No. He told me I was his.
He didn’t push me into bed with him. He waited.
And when he made love to me, he did it like he meant it.
But was it all just a game? A marathon race to get into my pants? Or to win some kind of pissing contest between him and Tyler? For all I know, they’ve been rivals since they were kids.
“Please, no…” I whimper.
I feel sick. I feel used.
But most of all, I feel stupid.
I gave everything to him. I trusted him with the most private parts of me, and I believed him when he told me he loved me, that I belonged to him.
I truly thought he cared. When I woke up this morning, the world was bright and warm, and now it’s like the sky has turned to ice and is crashing down on top of me.
A sob bursts from my lips. And that’s when I hear it.
A ringtone from within the package. I reach inside to find a pre-paid cell. My hands are trembling as I unlock it and find a text glaring me in the face with a vicious energy.
He just wanted to fuck a rich girl. Sorry, Mira.
I hurl the phone across the room and hear it shatter in the corner. My legs give out, and I slump down into a ball and press my face to my knees. Tears sting my eyes and fall down my cheeks as I lose all control.
Is that all I was to him? Someplace to get his dick wet?
He swore he had no line of women waiting for him—scoffed at the idea when I suggested it—but clearly that was just a lie. How could I be so stupid? A man as gorgeous and rugged as Finn would obviously have girls all over Chesterville and beyond. I saw what I wanted to see: a way out. A savior.
I feel dirty. Betrayed.
I press my hands to my belly again, and the sensation is the total opposite of what I was feeling in the shower.
What if I’m pregnant with a cheater’s baby?
Was that all part of his plan? To knock me up and then bail with a new story to tell the rest of his biker buddies while they’re drinking together?
Somehow, I manage to drag myself over to the couch and lie down, feeling like every ounce of energy has been drained from my body. The air feels thick and heavy. Even the walls of the house seem to be closing in on me. The whole world has changed. I thought my forced engagement to Tyler was bad.
Little did I know…
I wake to the vibration of my phone against my thigh. I grab it and rub my eyes. I’ve been lying here for hours. I must have fallen asleep.
It’s Finn calling.
I ignore it.
His name on my screen is like a knife twisting into my heart, eager to pull tears from my eyes. I try to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but it doesn’t help. My pulse is racing. I feel like I’m about to have a breakdown.
I set the phone aside and clamp my eyes shut, trying to push the images of him and the girl at the shop out of my mind—her hand on his chest, her tiny little skirt, their lips pressed against each other’s.
But the images refuse to move. They just play back over and over like a twisted, torturous dream I can’t escape.
How stupid am I?
How could I fall so fast for a man I barely know?
He took my virginity like he owned it—like it meant something. And I let myself believe that a man like Finn—a man with rough hands and rough words, so much different than Tyler—could actually want me for more than just a night.
I remember the way he stared at me after he came inside me. It was like he was imagining a child already growing there. Just as I was in the shower when I placed my hand on my belly.
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but the pain doesn’t stop the flood of shameful memories rushing in.
“I’m going to breed you, Mira.”
The words echo in my mind like an off-key instrument.
My dad always warned me about “lesser” men.
He said they’d do anything to get with a girl like me because of our family’s money.
I always scoffed at him and told him to mind his own business, but maybe he was right.
And the last thing I want to do ever is admit my dad was right about something in my life.
My phone buzzes again.
Finn, again.
Again, I ignore it.
I hear the front door open and cringe as male footsteps approach. I can already tell they belong to Tyler. He smells like cologne and cigars as he comes around in front of the couch and looks down at me.
“Where’s your dad?” he asks.
I shrug. “Dunno.”
He frowns down at me. “What happened to you?”
Such a sensitive man. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You look tired.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply, standing. He follows me into the kitchen. I realize I never brought Mom her tea and instantly feel like a terrible daughter. With a sigh, I put some water on and go to the pantry for her tea bags.
“What are these?” Tyler asks behind me, and I freeze. Shit. I turn and see him glancing down at the photos. He looks up at me, confused. “Is that—?”
“Finn? Yeah.” I nod. “Package showed up earlier. That girl must have sent it.”
He doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t smirk. He just lifts the final photo and stares at it like it’s some contagion—a virus that could infect the whole house if left here.
“It’s not your fault, Mira,” he says, sounding concerned. “This guy clearly isn’t the most moral man in the world. If he’s okay with blackmail, fidelity probably isn’t too high on his list.”
“I thought he loved me,” I blurt out, instantly regretting it. Why am I opening up to Tyler? He’s been cheating on me for probably as long as we’ve been together. He’s not exactly the guy to have the moral high ground here either.
That’s when it slides in—a thought. Awful and electric. Buzzing in my mind like a frayed wire.
If I can’t have true love, at least I can have control.
Maybe I can even have revenge.
I swallow hard and turn to Tyler, take the photo from his hand, and set it down. “Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t accept it.”
He frowns. “You don’t accept what?” He points down to the photos of Finn. “It’s all right there—”
“No, not that,” I reply. “I don’t accept you calling off our marriage.”
His frown deepens. He stares at me for a long moment, blinks several times, and takes a breath. “Are you for real?”
I nod, feeling like I’ve suddenly slipped into an alternate reality or a video game where I’m playing a different version of myself.
“Yes, I am.”
His eyes move faster as he examines me, trying to see if I’m screwing with him or not. I don’t blame him. I’d be thinking the same if I were him. Then, when he sees I’m serious, he smiles.
And I want to slap it right off his lips.
“So you want to get married?” he asks.
No, not really. “Yes.” I nod.
His smile broadens, and he moves in, slipping a snake-like arm around my waist. “Great. We’ll start planning today.”
The kettle screams, and I slide out of his grip and go to it.
I don’t feel safe.
I don’t feel loved.
I don’t feel wanted.
I feel numb. And for now, that’s good enough. It’s better than what I was feeling. And if I can’t have a life with Finn, maybe I can have one that doesn’t hurt.