14. Mav
FOURTEEN
MAV
“You gotta have something else on him,” I tell Bart, the private investigator Aiden hooked me up with.
Bart’s silence travels through the line, and I fight the urge to swear.
My temples pound, and my eyes burn.
I’ve been poring over the file Bart emailed me for hours, and there’s.
..nothing.
“There’s gotta be more,” I repeat.
“This is everything,” Bart replies, his tone less sympathetic than it was forty minutes ago.
Fuck. I lean back in my chair and scrub a hand over my face.
Bart’s frustrated, and I don’t blame him.
We’ve been at this for days, and the truth is, we haven’t dug up anything that will ruin Bran’s reputation or life.
A fact I’m unwilling to accept.
“All right, thanks, Bart.” I force myself to say the words.
His relieved sigh comes through the line, ratcheting up my own frustration.
Anger. Feelings of uselessness.
I end the call and pace around my bedroom for a few moments.
The walls close in on me.
A perimeter of light beams around the window, blocked out by the shades I pulled down last night and haven’t opened today.
What time is it?
Mckenna left for campus thirty minutes ago, but she spent the morning studying on the other side of my fucking wall.
These days, there may as well be an ocean between us.
She’s been quiet and withdrawn.
I’ve been moody and agitated.
Sure, we eat dinner together each night.
Then, we watch television and compare notes on our favorite shows.
We sleep in the same bed and kiss each other good night.
But it’s as if we’re going through the motions.
Keeping up appearances while we both internally crumble.
She’s exhausted and looks worried, half panicked over her coursework, and half panicked over her life.
And I’m ready to put my fist through a goddamn wall because, at every turn, I come up empty-handed.
My phone rings, and I’m hoping it’s Bart with an overlooked detail, or Greg, the guy on Mckenna’s security detail.
It’s my brother. I debate not answering, but since I’ve been avoiding my bandmates, it’s only a matter of time before one of them shows up.
Maybe if I talk to Jameson, I can delay the inevitable a little longer.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“How’s it going?” Jameson asks.
I swear and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Nothing. I got fucking nothing,” I update him.
While I haven’t shared Mckenna’s experience with Bran with anyone, the guys in the band and Aiden know that something went down between them.
They saw Mckenna the morning after we married.
They witnessed the despair in her expression and the pure panic that clung to her like perfume.
They may not know, but they all know .
And they are gunning for revenge just like me.
“You think you’re too close to it?” he asks softly.
“Of course, I’m too fucking close to it. She’s my wife!” I hiss.
Ah, there’s that anger that’s been building since the moment I opened my eyes.
I wake up every time Mckenna whimpers.
Overnight, in the morning, whatever.
Sometimes, I comfort her, sometimes I give her space.
But I’m always awake in case she needs me.
Jameson doesn’t pick my declaration apart, and I’m grateful.
There’s too much at stake to waste time.
Mckenna’s losing weight again.
Looking pale and withdrawn.
Exhausted and fragile.
I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and I need to catch up on the lyrics I promised Reign I’d write.
Finally, Derek asks me for more input, the chance to create and write original songs, and I’m too fucked up over Branson Burton to concentrate.
To rise to the occasion.
“Do you think, hear me out, that maybe it was a singular occurrence and there is nothing else? That you can’t pin anything on Bran because?—”
“There’s gotta be more,” I cut my brother off, unwilling to see his point.
I don’t want to consider it because that would mean zero fucking justice for Mckenna.
Jameson swears. “Mav, this is a delicate situation. You gotta tread lightly.”
“Right now, I don’t care if I bring the scandal of the century down on our heads if it means burying that motherfucker,” I seethe.
“I want him to pay for what he did.”
“Yeah? You ready to lay out what he did? To the fucking world? You haven’t been able to say it to me, Mav. And while I don’t know the particulars, I know enough.”
“I don’t want to betray Mckenna’s trust.”
“I know,” Jameson says evenly.
“That’s exactly it. You don’t want to betray her trust, but you are taking over aspects of her life she never asked you to. You’re on a crusade she might not want you to blaze.”
“Fuck. Aiden told you.” I close my eyes and plop back in my chair.
“A fucking bodyguard!” Jameson hollers.
I grip the phone tighter.
“I gotta keep her safe, Jameson. I know shit between you and Amelia is fucked, but if you were scared—truly terrified—for her safety, what would you do?”
He’s quiet for a long beat, and I know he won’t refute me.
“I’d tell her first.”
I roll my eyes and tap the mouse on my computer.
The monitor flickers to life, and all the information I’ve been collecting on Bran appears.
There’s gotta be something.
I scan the documents as the words run together.
“When was the last time you ate?” Jameson asks.
I startle, forgetting he was on the line.
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
“Got more important things to take care of.”
“Jesus, Mav. I’ll be there in thirty.”
No!
This is what I was trying to avoid.
This is why I shouldn’t have picked up the damn phone when I could have been researching.
“No, I’m fine. You don’t have to come.” I try to shut him down.
Jameson snickers. “Shower. We’ll grab a bite. Swing by the studio. You want to get some writing time in?”
His question causes the rock of guilt in my stomach to expand into a boulder.
“I can’t leave until I check in with Greg,” I whisper.
“Okay,” my brother agrees.
“I want to make sure Mckenna isn’t alone for dinner tonight,” I continue.
“She can come with us,” he offers.
“Send her a message to meet us after her last class.”
“No, she has a study group until...” I squint at the sticky pad I use to jot down whatever Mckenna mentions about her schedule.
“Seven.”
I don’t want to ask her point blank for her daily agenda, but I need to know her comings and goings to.
..plan. Prepare. Help.
Jameson sighs. “We’ll bring her back food.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“We can pick her up from the library.”
“Doesn’t she have her car?”
I nod, then realize he can’t see me.
It will be dark after seven when Mckenna walks to her car.
What if Bran is out there lurking?
What if Greg gets a call and isn’t paying attention?
No, I can’t leave it to chance.
“We can follow her.”
“Maverick! You’re going to fucking scare her. Just talk to her, man. You’ve gotta snap out of this. You’ve become obsessed and paranoid and?—”
“I can’t let anything bad happen to her!” I erupt.
Doesn’t he see I’m doing my best?
Doesn’t anyone understand how big my feelings for Mckenna are?
I’d rather cut off my arm than see her cry.
Or hear her sobs in the middle of the night.
Witnessing her agony is pure fucking torture, and I need to mitigate the situation so Bran doesn’t hurt her or any other woman again.
“You’re gonna lose her, Mav.” Jameson’s voice is flat.
I frown.
“You’re gonna lose her by loving too damn hard. Pushing too much. Interfering when she might not want you to. It’s not how you feel; it’s how you’re showing it,” he continues, surprising me into silence.
“She doesn’t need you to run her life; she needs you to stand by her side while she runs it.”
“Jameson,” I say, carefully measuring my words.
He understands my tone.
“I know you’re thinking I know jack shit. I mean, look at me and Amelia, right?”
“Well...yeah.”
“Learn from my mistakes, Mav. Tread lightly .”
I sigh and turn off my monitor, Bran’s name fading from the screen.
Good fucking riddance.
If only it was that easy to cut him out of Mckenna’s and my lives.
“I’ll see you in half an hour. Shower.” Jameson hangs up.
I drag myself from my bedroom and take a shower.
The hot water wakes me up, and I shake the fogginess from my head.
I still don’t know what time it is, but I’ve been searching for new insights in Bran’s folder for hours.
I feel sick when I think of Mckenna sitting in class with him.
Or brushing shoulders in a crowded hallway.
Or having to speak with him.
All I want to do is keep her safe.
Protect her. Heal her.
Fucking love her.
But with each passing day, the distance between us grows, and I don’t know how to close the space.
I don’t know how to fix this.