16. Mav
SIXTEEN
MAV
“You better get here now.” Greg’s voice is low and deadly.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Panic races through my veins.
I fist my brother’s hoodie and point toward his truck.
“It’s Mckenna.”
Whatever Jameson reads in my expression is enough for him to change course.
We jog back to his truck.
“What happened?” I bark at Greg.
“Did he hurt her?”
“Jesus!” Greg mutters.
“She had a fucking panic attack. She fell and hit her head, got about fifteen stitches in the back. She’s in the hospital. I’ll text you the details.”
“You’re with her?” Confusion laces my tone as I jump into Jameson’s truck.
He’s navigating it onto the main street before I think to buckle my seat belt.
“I brought her here,” Greg explains after a long pause.
“Mav, she thought I was fucking stalking her.”
I feel the color drain from my face as I bang my head back against the headrest and close my eyes.
Mckenna must have been petrified.
Fuck. I made it worse; I put her through hell.
In trying to keep her safe, I terrorized her.
“She knows,” Greg continues.
“I had to tell her. Her heartbeat, the beeping on the goddamn machine...” He trails off, agitated.
“I fucked up.”
Greg swears.
“Yeah, but...not entirely. You were right about a few things.”
I sit up straighter, and my eyes snap open.
“The guy, Branson, he approached her in the library. Put her on edge. I could taste her fucking fear, even from across the room. That guy’s dangerous.”
“Fucking hell.” I clench my eyes shut.
Jameson gives me a look, but I shake my head.
He presses down on the accelerator to catch a yellow light.
“Your intentions were good. Your instincts were right,” Greg continues.
“But I’m out. I can’t do this anymore unless Mckenna wants protection. She... If you saw the way she looked at me, Mav. She tried to use pepper spray. I want to keep women safe, not scare the shit out of them.”
“Yeah. I got that,” I mutter, fucking furious with myself.
“Text me her room number.”
“Yeah. I’ll wait in the hallway until you get here. But come now.”
“I’m on my way,” I confirm before disconnecting.
“How bad is it?” Jameson asks.
“I fucked up.”
“How bad?”
I glance at my brother.
“She thought Greg was stalking her.”
Horror washes over Jameson’s face, and he flicks his eyes back to the road.
“She made her mark. Of course, she did. Mav, Mckenna is one of the smartest women I know.”
“Yeah,” I agree miserably.
“She must have been so scared. Jesus, I did that. I caused her to feel the fear I was trying to protect her from.”
“You need to talk to her.” The warning is clear in my brother’s tone.
“Just let me off here.” I gesture toward the main entrance to the hospital.
“Want me to come in?”
I shake my head.
“Nah. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and honestly, I doubt Mckenna’s up for visitors.”
“Alright. Good luck, brother. Wouldn’t want to be you.”
“Thanks.” I glance at my phone to confirm Mckenna’s room number, flip Jameson my middle finger, and slide out of his ride.
I stride into the hospital and avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Instead, I focus on the elevator bay, punch the number nine, and find my way to Mckenna’s room.
Greg’s leaning against the wall next to the door.
He flips his chin when he sees me.
“I’m taking off.”
“Thanks for waiting,” I say, meaning it.
“I’ll connect with you soon.” Greg slaps me on the back.
I wait until he’s in the elevator, exiting the hospital, before I knock on Mckenna’s hospital door.
As I cross the threshold, her eyes snap to mine.
They’re blazing with fury.
Her mouth is pulled tight.
Tension radiates around her, causing the air to vibrate with an intensity I don’t like.
In fact, I despise it.
For a moment, it reminds me of how Mckenna used to look at me.
Like I was beneath her.
Now, I’d prefer that.
Because she’s looking at me like I broke her fucking heart.
Lost the trust I worked my ass off to earn.
“You put a guy on me?” she accuses.
I note the bandage at the base of her head and wince.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Mav?” she hurls, pointing at me.
“You had no fucking right to interfere in my life like that.”
Instead of backing down, like logic tells me I should, I shake my head.
“No fucking right? Mckenna, you’re my wife. I’ll do anything in my fucking power to protect you.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at me.
The IV inserted into her arm makes me wince, and the erratic beeping from the machine alarms me.
The fight seeps out of her, and she averts her gaze.
“You never asked me what I want, Mav.”
“I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up.
“I should have talked to you about it.”
Her eyes snap to mine.
“You think? I was fucking terrified.”
I drop into the chair next to her bed and reach for her, but she smacks my hand away.
“I need to know that I can trust myself,” she continues.
“You made me question my fucking sanity the same way he did.”
I wince as a blaze of anger burns through me.
“Don’t compare me to him.”
“I’m not,” she shoots back.
“I’m trying, Mav. I’m trying to heal and get my life back on track. A big part of that is being able to trust myself. To know I can protect myself. You going behind my back and making decisions for me without my consent is?—”
“Would you rather not have protection? Greg told me that Bran approached you in the library. He said you looked terrified. What if Bran had followed you to your car, Mckenna? What if?—”
“Don’t you see? I need to know that I can handle it. By myself,” she hisses the last part, her eyes wild.
“Is everything all right?” A nurse pops into the room.
She gives me an admonishing look as she checks on Mckenna.
“You have to remain calm,” she says in a soothing tone.
Her eyes cut back to me.
I force myself to uncoil my body and lean back in the chair.
I watch as the nurse fusses over Mckenna.
“I’m fine now,” Mckenna says softly.
The nurse nods before looking at me.
“And you are?”
“Her husband.”
“Oh, good. We’re keeping Mckenna overnight to monitor her stitches and check that she doesn’t have a concussion. She took a hard fall,” the nurse explains.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
The nurse points at me.
“Don’t upset her or you’re out of here. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I like that the nurse will kick me out on my ass for Mckenna’s benefit.
She needs more people looking out for her.
When the door closes, Mckenna glares at me again.
“For weeks...for fucking weeks, I have been battling my mind, thinking I was reading into something that wasn’t real. That my intuition was fucking paranoia. I knew someone was following me, yet I didn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t confide that. Because a part of me thought I was imagining it. Making it up. But I was right, Mav. And guess what? It wasn’t because of Bran. It was because of you!” She jabs her finger in my direction.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“I know. Fuck, Mckenna, I know. I’m so sorry. I was petrified for you and thought a security guy could protect you when I couldn’t.”
She shakes her head, her expression sad.
And exhausted. It cuts deep, knowing how scared she was.
I realize how true that saying is— the road to hell is paved with good intentions .
I am sitting in fucking purgatory right now, hating myself for the pain and fear I caused my girl.
“I wanted to keep you safe,” I whisper, desperate for her to understand my reasoning.
Doesn’t she know how hard it is to protect her when she insists on attending classes with Bran?
Doesn’t she see the agony I’ve been in, too?
“I wanted you to feel secure. And... I messed up. I went too far.”
“Yeah, you did.” Mckenna exhales, and it’s like the fight leaves her body.
Flees in one big whoosh of breath and the drop of her shoulders.
“It’s too much,” she admits quietly.
“This is too much, Maverick.” She leans her head back and closes her eyes.
For long beats, she’s silent.
Her chest rises and falls, her fingers loosen their tight hold on the bedsheets.
“I was scared of this,” she admits.
“Of what?” I press.
“Of losing myself in you. Of losing myself in our marriage. In my trauma. Of just not being able to step up for myself the way I need to. For years, I relied on just me. And sometimes, fine, I sucked at it, but I know I could count on myself.” She lifts her head to meet my eyes.
“You made my life easier, better, happier, and healthier in so many ways but somewhere along the line, I forgot how to stand on my own two feet.”
“That’s not true, Mckenna. You are standing on your own two feet.”
“I’m not, Mav.” She looks at me.
Really looks at me and lets me see the demons she’s battling, the pain she’s drowning in, the fear that has reigned for too damn long.
“I need to feel whole. I need to know that I’m enough for myself before I’ll be a good partner in our marriage. I’ve dragged you into all my shit?—”
“I want to?—”
“And all it’s done is put distance between us,” she continues.
“For the past two weeks, I’ve been terrified every single day on campus. And you’ve been orchestrating security and God knows what else. And we didn’t tell each other. Oh, I started seeing a therapist,” she tacks on, tossing a hand in my direction, “and I didn’t want to tell you until I had more answers. That’s not trusting each other. That’s not the marriage we promised to try for.”
Her anger has been replaced by heartache.
She blinks, and a quiet resignation fills her expression.
The aloofness that shudders over her irises terrifies me more than her rage.
Instead, I want her fury.
I don’t fucking want this.
“Mckenna,” I say as if it will stop whatever she says next.
“I can’t do this right now.” She drops the bomb.
Shakes her head. “I need some time, Mav. I just, I need a few days to process. To think.”
“Mckenna, please, let’s talk about this. Let me?—”
“You’ve done more than enough, Maverick,” she says earnestly.
“I never would have made it this far without you. I love you. I’m in love with you. But I want to be able to trust myself. And you. And have you trust me. And clearly, we’re not there yet. So please, just give me a few days. Let me have some time and space.”
Time and space?
I rock back in my seat as if she shoved me.
Fuck, I wish she did.
“Mckenna—”
“Please, Mav,” she murmurs, not allowing me to finish a goddamn sentence.
I sigh and stand on shaky legs.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. At least let me take you home and then you can have all the time you need to process. Think. You’re my wife, Mckenna.”
A bark scrapes from her throat.
She rubs a hand over her face.
“Some wife I turned out to be, huh?”
“The best wife,” I say seriously.
I touch her hand, and she flips her fingers over to grasp mine.
“Time and space,” she repeats, pulling in a fortifying breath.
“Good night, Maverick.”
I stare at her for a long moment.
I wrack my brain for ways to make it up to her.
I come up empty-fucking-handed.
Always a screw-up when I’m needed the most.
I nod, accepting her decision even though I don’t agree with it.
Fine, I messed up. But can’t she see it’s because I care about her?
Am in fucking love with her?
Doesn’t she get what’s happened between us?
We got married, and somewhere along the line, I fell for her.
I tried to save her.
To shield her. And okay, maybe I tried too fucking hard.
But isn’t that better than not trying hard enough?
“Good night, Mckenna.” I squeeze her fingers once before dropping her hand and moving toward the door.
Pulling it open, I glance over my shoulder one last time.
Mckenna has already turned away.
She stares at the wall as if it’s decorated with an exciting mural instead of painted the hospital’s preferred paint color—bland eggshell white.
She doesn’t mean what she says.
Right now, she’s hurt and angry.
Tomorrow will be better.
I’ll check in with her tomorrow.
I cross the threshold and close the door firmly behind me.
I shudder as the latch catches.
Why the hell does it bang shut with a finality?
Why does it echo in my eardrums for the rest of my night, taunting me with everything I’ve lost?