2. Mckenna
TWO
MCKENNA
My hands grip my head as I try to recall moments.
Memories. Anything to make sense of the fact that I said “I do” to Maverick Tate.
That getting married was my idea!
After watching the videos and pictures from the night before, I have no doubt that I suggested it.
I just don’t understand why.
Where did that brazenness, that surety, come from?
Especially when today, I feel flattened.
Insecure and vulnerable and foolish.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I block out the voices on the other side of the bathroom door.
Push Allegra’s concerned questions, Nova and Ivy’s worried text messages from their plane ride to Tennessee, Levi’s tight jaw, and Jameson’s evident confusion away and think .
Bubbly. The sweet taste of champagne.
Sparkle. A whole jewelry case filled with diamonds.
Dancing. A broken shoe strap.
Flashes of light.
And then the visions shift.
They take on new shapes.
The light dims and darkness swirls.
Flashes. The scent of beer.
Woods and a bonfire.
The weight of a body.
Narrowed eyes and low, threatening commands.
No! A gurgled cry that gets stuck in my throat.
That I’m forced to swallow around.
A piercing sensation followed by a jab of pain.
I shake my head and slap a hand against the bathroom vanity.
“Kenny? You okay?” Allegra knocks softly on the bathroom door.
Tears pinch the corners of my eyes, and I flip on the faucet, hoping the running water will dull the sound of my panic.
But my throat is clogged once more.
The tile floor tips, and I’m unsteady on my feet.
I can’t meet my eyes in the mirror, not when my head swims and the taste of beer and smoke fill my mouth.
“Mckenna?” Allegra knocks again, more urgently this time.
“Be out in a minute,” I manage to reply.
I close my eyes for several seconds.
I feel the marble of the vanity top beneath my fingers.
I scrunch my toes into the cool tiles of the floor.
The sound of running water from the faucet.
The scent of lavender soap.
I open my eyes. Spot the shiny chrome of the hot water tap.
Slowly my dizziness fades.
I breathe in and out.
Slowly, deeply. Again.
As the bathroom stabilizes, my mind settles.
When I’m ready, I raise my face to the mirror and blanch.
I look awful. Pale skin and shocked eyes.
Exhausted and pathetic.
Weak.
Fuck. What the hell was I thinking?
I saw the videos. Last night, I was happy .
Joyful and exuberant and glowing.
I declared my love for Mav onstage, in front of a room full of strangers, for crying out loud.
I kissed him, spun in circles, and admired my ring like a woman in love.
And now, I can’t recall any of it, save for wisps that make me feel like my mind is playing tricks on me.
Is it? Am I losing my sanity?
And one of the first things Mav decided on was an annulment.
Not even a divorce but an annulment.
A way to permanently erase last night.
To pretend it never happened.
Hell, if I can’t recall it and he can erase it—did it?
My heart rate increases at the realization that while I may not remember last night, Maverick truly regrets it.
How could he not?
I ruined his life.
His career. I made a mess of things when he tried to fix them.
Why the hell would I propose marriage?
Worse, why did he say yes?
To spare my feelings?
To create a good story to laugh at in a decade?
Another knock on the door.
“Mckenna?” It’s Levi.
The concern in his tone brings a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.
I turn off the faucet and drag a towel across my face.
Taking a deep breath, I pull my hair out of the bun and rake my fingers through it, trying to smooth down the flyaway strands.
I need to get a handle on this situation.
I need to pull myself together.
Sweeping my hair back into a new, messy knot, I give my reflection a stern nod, and open the bathroom door.
Levi stumbles back half a step, but before I exit the bathroom, he hugs me.
I go willingly, needing his strength, anyone’s strength, to bolster mine.
“You’re gonna be okay, Kenny,” he whispers.
“I hope so,” I reply, swallowing back the ball of emotion that swells in my throat.
“I promise you.” His tone is certain, laced with a surety I wish I felt.
But I cling to his words nonetheless.
Levi has been through a lot.
He’s hit rock bottom, nearly ruined his relationship with Allegra, and managed to rebuild his life.
His reassuring me that I’ll get through this hits differently than if it came from anyone else.
From his history, I trust that he has experienced worse.
And, as shitty as it sounds, that brings me a sliver of comfort.
I nod, dropping my head to his shoulder.
“All right, let’s get this over with,” Mav announces, clapping his hands together loudly.
I wince and pull away from Levi.
When I meet Mav’s eyes, he’s glaring at me, and I feel even worse.
I’m another mess to clean up—a burden in another person’s life.
Unfortunately for Maverick, he can’t forget me as quickly as my parents have since I’m his legal wife.
Wife.
I always wanted to be someone’s wife.
When I was a little girl, I imagined dressing up in fancy gowns and carefully applying my makeup before my husband—dashing in a black tuxedo and shiny shoes—would whisk me away to a gala or a ball.
Instead, I married a rockstar, I don’t remember our wedding, and he wants an annulment all in twenty-four hours.
Clearly, I’m not cut out for marriage.
I sink onto the couch beside Allegra.
My friend presses a hot cup of coffee into my hands.
Burnt coffee. Stale beer.
I wrinkle my nose as the scent of it—an old memory, a reminder—flickers around me.
I shiver.
That morning was cold and gray.
Overcast.
I look out the window.
A blue sky and fluffy, white clouds.
It’s a new year, yet I feel haunted by a past I can’t shake.
Instead, it bubbles to the surface and threatens to pull me down.
“Drink it,” Allegra murmurs.
I stare at my friend, beyond grateful she’s here.
Wishing I could express it.
“Mckenna,” she says, her expression worried.
She reaches for my hand.
“Ivy and Nova keep calling. They’re sorry they already boarded a flight to Knoxville before they saw the news. Ivy says that she can fly back if you want her to.”
I shake my head and sip the hot coffee.
It anchors me to the moment, and I wrap my hand around the mug, forcing myself to pay attention to the conversation unfolding around me.
“I’m here for you, Kenny,” Allegra whispers, squeezing my fingers.
I don’t have the strength to squeeze back but I keep hold of her hand.
“You can’t get an annulment,” Derek says to Maverick.
“Have you seen the news today?” Jameson’s tone is careful.
“You’re trending on all the socials,” Allegra explains.
“Fuck.” Mav pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head.
His hair, always sexy, is messy in a way that speaks to his stress instead of our night in the sheets.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is small.
Insecure.
Mav’s head snaps up, and his eyes find mine.
He looks as miserable as I feel, but his gaze also holds confusion.
“Mckenna, this isn’t on you.” His voice is sincere.
Soft and soothing.
For some reason, his understanding makes me feel worse.
I’m at a loss. The photos and videos from last night aren’t helping me fill in the blanks.
Instead, I have gaping holes.
I squint, as if that will help me concentrate.
Shivers coat my skin, and I release Allegra’s hand.
I snuggle deeper into the couch.
Memories I’ve been trying to recall for years form on the edges of my periphery.
I blink and then 1L year comes rushing back.
His hand is warm, his shake strong when he envelops my fingers on the first day of classes.
“Branson Burton. But everyone calls me Bran.”
“Where are you from, Bran?” I ask, relieved to be talking to another student on my first day.
Considering I’ve lived in Boston my entire life, you’d think I’d have seen a familiar face.
But the students on campus at BU have been entirely unfamiliar.
“Massachusetts,” he says, a strange look crossing his face.
“By way of Texas,” he tacks on.
“Oh,” I say. “I’m from here.”
“I know,” Bran says, flushing.
“I mean, I figured. Your accent.”
“Right,” I agree, even though my accent isn’t strong.
Shrugging it off, I ask him what kind of law he’d like to pursue.
We have a normal conversation.
In fact, we get along well in class and regularly share notes and discuss the readings.
My mind spins and a copse of trees comes into view then.
Bursting with colorful leaves that flit to the ground.
“I’m glad you came out last night.” Bran’s voice is smooth.
He bumps his shoulder against mine.
“Me too.” I grin at him.
“Thanks for walking me home last night.”
“Of course,” he says sincerely.
His plaid shirt is rolled up on his forearms, and the back of his hand brushes against mine.
For a second, I wonder if he’s going to hold my hand.
He doesn’t.
The next time I see Bran out, he’s different.
Everything has changed.
Bran sneers spitefully, his fingers invading my mouth as I try to bite them away.
“Come on, Mckenna. Give in!” he spits my name.
“Tell me you want this. Want me!”
I jump up from the couch, splashing coffee all over my joggers.
“Shit.”
“Here.” Allegra’s up in an instant.
“Let me help you.”
Coffee drips off my hand onto the carpet.
My fingers shake, causing the coffee to continue to dribble.
I hold it away from me, watching the trembles that ripple along my fingers.
Levi reaches for the cup and places it on the table.
His brows are bent together and the look in his eyes is discerning, as if he can see more than I’m letting on.
Almost as if he knows more than I do.
I suck in a breath, wiping my hand down the seam of my pants.
“I’m fine. I’m okay,” I rush out, trying to explain myself.
I sound panicked. Holy shit, I am coming unhinged.
Why can’t I remember?
How could I mess up so badly?
“I’ll just go change,” I continue, rushing from the room.
Levi steps back and Allegra lets me go.
This time, I sit on the edge of the bed and don’t block out the voices in the living room.
“What the fuck happened last night?” Levi demands.
“I mean, the pictures look like you guys were happy and in the moment, but...” He trails off.
“Something’s not right,” Derek agrees.
I close my eyes in shame.
It’s me. I’m not right.
I’m…losing it.
And in the process, remembering things I’d rather forget.
The smoke from the bonfire fills my nostrils.
Tall trees, endless stars, and “ it’s my word against yours, Mckenna .”
I shudder as his voice echoes in my mind.
Chills race up my arms and down my spine, as I wrap my arms around my center, holding myself together.
As my heart rate increases, I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head into my hands.
A staccato of heartbeats explodes in my temples.
“Fuck.” Mav sounds gutted.
“I thought we were happy and in the moment too...” He lowers his voice.
“She doesn’t remember...”
I don’t remember.
..
“I got you now, Mckenna. Come on, don’t you want me?” he taunts.
I gasp for breath, the air too thin.
I remember... I remember that night.
“That you guys got married?” Allegra asks.
“That too,” Mav replies, letting the words he’s not saying hover in the air.
He gives them time to sink in.
“Fuck, bro. She doesn’t remember that y’all...you know,” Jameson says delicately.
Mav groans miserably.
I stand up and pace in front of the bed.
My teeth begin to chatter as I rake my fingers through my hair, pulling it out of the bun I had secured it in.
What the hell is happening?
Bonfire. An expanse of trees.
So many stars.
His charcoal gray coat and heavy boots.
A creaking, sticky floor.
Brown couch.
Laughter.
Giggles. And his breathing.
Heavy.
“She doesn’t seem like herself,” Allegra voices quietly.
“I remember, but no, that was years ago and...” She trails off.
I can picture her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering if she should voice her thoughts.
“Something happened during her 1L year. And she...retreated. Disappeared inside herself for a while. I thought it was her parents’ divorce, but...something happened. And right now, she has that same shell-shocked expression.” Allegra lays it all out there.
Something happened during her 1L year.
Branson Burton happened.
And now, I remember.
A keening sound falls from my lips as I clutch the sides of my head.
My chest tightens like a belt pulled too tight.
“What do you mean something happened?” Maverick snaps.
“What happened?” He sounds furious.
Horrified. Desperate.
All the things I should feel, but I feel lost right now, watching myself fall apart as if I’m a spectator to my own breakdown.
Cold and panicked.
Ashamed and guilty.
Alone.
“I don’t know,” Allegra says softly.
“I was in LA at the time, and she was in Boston, but she wasn’t herself.”
“Jesus,” Levi murmurs.
“We need a plan,” Derek says reasonably.
“We need a unified front for the public while you and Mckenna sort things between yourselves. We’ll have to put out a statement. Are we congratulating you guys on your nuptials?”
“You can’t get an annulment,” Jameson agrees with compassion in his tone.
“Where the hell is Aiden?” Levi states.
“He’ll be here soon,” Derek says.
“He’s on his way with Jess and Kimberly.”
“In the meantime?” Levi asks.
“Any ideas?”
“Fuck.” Derek sighs.
“We hide out in the hotel, don’t talk to the fucking press, and...” He must gesture toward the bedroom, toward me, because awkwardness ensues.
“I’ll talk to her,” Allegra says.
“No,” Maverick interjects.
“I will.”
Their voices are far away, and yet, I hear them.
Absorb them.
They punch into my gut like a fist and I drop to my knees.
Curling into myself, I gasp for breath.
A knock sounds on the door.
It creaks open slowly.
The latch catches softly.
“Mckenna.” Maverick’s voice is even.
Low and steady and careful.
“Mckenna!” Persistent now as he drops to the floor beside me.
“Shh, beauty, I’m here.” He pulls me into his lap.
His hands are warm as they track over my skin.
“Are you hurt?”
I whimper.
Ice-cold tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I don’t feel them fall.
“Mckenna, fuck, talk to me, beauty.” His voice breaks.
“What’s happening, sweetheart?” He rocks me in his arms as I try to breathe.
“Shh, I’m here. You’re okay. We’ll figure this out. I promise; I swear it to you.” He strokes my hair soothingly as I fall apart.
Time passes. My mind swirls.
I focus on the feel of Maverick’s touch, the beige hotel carpet, and the murmuring voices on the other side of the door.
As my shudders cease and my lungs catch air, I relax in his hold.
I temporarily banish Branson from my mind and try to recall why Maverick is holding me.
Apologizing to me.
“I can’t handle it if you hate me. I know I fucked up, but I swear, I thought you wanted...us. I never would have... It kills me that... Mckenna, I’m so fucking sorry.”
I lift my head and take in his remorseful eyes.
They’re bleeding blue.
He looks broken. Shattered.
Haunted.
Is he mirroring my reflection back to me?
“Hate you?” I repeat, trying to catch up.
I hate Branson, not Mav.
Besides… “Don’t you hate me?”
Confusion twists his expression.
“What? I could never hate you.”
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head as if to clear the remnants of that long-ago night from my mind.
For years, I couldn’t remember anything.
Now, it’s coming back in waves.
Massive barrel waves that threaten to drown me.
Part of me wants them to.
But there’s safety in Mav’s presence—security in his touch.
With him, I can come up for air and suck in a lungful.
During the past few months, Maverick’s become my closest confidant, whether I want him to be or not.
He’s consistently shown up for me, and deep down, I trust him.
“Me neither,” he says slowly, his eyes studying mine.
He takes my hand and holds my fingers.
“You’re ice cold,” he comments, cupping my hands between his and blowing on my fingers.
When he looks up, his eyes are unreadable.
“Mckenna, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. Because it looks like you just had a full-blown panic attack, and I—God, Mckenna—I hate that I caused that.”
“You didn’t,” I refute, knowing I need to tell him the truth.
I need to erase the agony lining his face.
“But you don’t remember last night,” he prods.
“I don’t remember last night,” I admit slowly.
“But I?—”
“Yo!” A loud knock bangs on the door.
“Aiden is here,” Levi announces.
“And Jess and Kimberly!” Jameson calls out.
Mav’s head drops back.
He glares at the ceiling.
“Can you give me a fucking break here?” he asks the universe.
“Fucking hell.”
His expression—remorseful, horrified, hurt—recedes into a neutral mask.
My words—a confession, a secret—die on my lips.
“Come on,” Mav says, standing and tugging me up.
“We better get this shit sorted.”
I nod, dropping my eyes to the floor.
But my visitor is back.
Invading my thoughts.
Torturing me with his presence.
Branson’s snarl. The heaviness of his frame as he pins me in place.
His fumbling fingers.
Why now? Why is this happening to me?
“Don’t tell anyone, Mckenna Byrne.”
I shudder.
“I’ll destroy your fucking life.”
My stomach twists and knots.
“You owe me. And I own you.”
“You ready?” Mav asks.
His hand curls around the doorknob.
I nod, squinting at the wedding band on his finger.
I meet my husband’s eyes.
“You owe me. And I own you.”
A reminder.
A warning. A threat.
I suck in an inhale and pray I don’t pass out.