Reclaim Me (The Jaded Series Book 2)

by Alex Grayson

  He’s right. My decision on hearing what he has to say is wavering. Seeing Tessa again has brought back the old anger. And seeing Trent and everything he represents, has caused the pain to resurface. I don’t know if I’ll find the courage again.

  Making my decision and hoping it’s the right one, I walk into the living room. When I enter the large room, I see Trent sitting on a dark brown sectional sofa playing some type of hand held game. Another sharp pain hits my chest at the sight of him. I turn and face the sliding glass door that leads to the back porch. I feel guilty that I can’t even look at him. He’s just a kid and is in no way at fault. It’s just simply too painful.

  I hear Mac enter the living room behind me. “Hey, T, come with me. I’m going to set up the game in your room while me and Mia talk for a bit.”

  Through the reflection of the glass, I watch as Trent swings his head back and forth between the two of us before he asks, “Why?”

  “Doesn’t matter why, kid, just do as I say. Grab the console and let’s go.” His tone brooks no argument.

  I hear some grumbling before Trent gets up and grabs the console from beside the massive TV and walks out of the living room with Mac trailing behind him.

  Once they leave, I take the opportunity to look around. The place looks different from the last time I was here. Turning to my right, I see a big fireplace. Just on one side of the fireplace is a bookshelf that has a shit ton of books, and CD and DVD cases. One shelf is filled with picture frames. I make my way over to it, curious at what he has displayed.

  The first picture I see is of a younger Mac in his teens. His parents are on either side of him. His dad has his hand on his shoulder. Mac is already taller than his mom and he has his arm thrown over her shoulders with her head resting on his. All three are smiling and seem happy.

  I move onto the next picture. This one is of Mac holding a baby Trent. Trent couldn’t be any more than a few days old. Mac has the biggest grin on his face and you can tell by his expression that he’s a very proud daddy. I look away when I feel sadness and anger seeping in at the thought of him sharing that with someone else.

  The next picture has me catching my breath. It’s of me and Mac on Marabelle. It was the first time I had ever ridden her. I’m sitting in front of Mac and he has his arms wrapped around me, holding the reins. His head is resting right next to mine while he explains how to direct a horse. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had always been fascinated with horses, and always wanted to learn to ride one, but had never gotten the opportunity. When Mac found this out he rectified the situation immediately. I loved it right away. And what made it even more special was that I got to have Mac’s arms wrapped around me. I remember feeling so safe and warm. Butterflies were swarming in my stomach and my heart rate picked up when he swung up behind me and put his arms around me and his thighs on either side of mine. We were still in the simple kissing phase of our relationship.

  I reach up and finger the frame. We were both so happy back them. The world was at our fingertips and I still had my dreams of having Mac at my side forever. I was so innocent back then and Mac was one of the sweetest guys I knew. I loved him with everything I had and was willing to do anything to make him happy.

  A throat clearing behind me brings me back to reality. I turn and see Mac watching me intently. He’s leaning casually against the door frame of the hallway with his arms crossed.

  “Would you like something to drink?” He asks me.

  “Sure. Got any beer?”

  His lips quirk up on one side. “Yep.”

  He pushes off from the wall and starts across the living room. I follow behind him through a doorway and enter a medium size kitchen. Although the layout is the same, the appliances and design are different than the last time I was in here. The appliances are new, but still have an old fashion feel. Instead of the flowered wallpaper that used to decorate the walls, it’s now painted in a soft blue. There’s a border at the top that features different breeds of horses. The table is the same as the one that was here years ago. It’s an old, scarred, wooden rectangular table. Jaxon, Anna, and I have eaten many meals at that table, along with Mac and his parents, of course.

  Mac walks over to the fridge and pulls out two beers and hands me one.

  “When did you remodel?” I ask him before taking a swig.

  “A few years ago. It’s mainly just the kitchen and bathrooms that I renovated. I wanted to modernize the plumbing. I also did the wiring throughout the house. Got tired of the damn electricity going off all the time.”

  I chuckle a little at that. “I remember a time or two it going out while I was here. Do you remember the time we were in the basement when it went out?”

  He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, you mean the time you almost killed us both?”

  “Hey! It wasn’t my fault. Your cat scared the shit out of me!”

  We both laugh at the memory of being in the basement making out on the couch when the lights went off. We got up to go upstairs to find a flashlight. It was pitch black and we couldn’t see a thing. The basement was already spooky, and with the lights off it made it ten times more so. I made him let me go first and him trail directly behind me. We were only up a few stairs when his stupid cat decided to sneak his paws through the stairs and play footsie with me. I shrieked and jump, which caused me to bump into Mac. I tried catching myself, but because I couldn’t see, I caused both of us to tumble down the stairs. Luckily neither one of us was hurt, except for a small bump on Mac’s head and a tiny bruise on my knee. Mac always made sure there was an easily assessable flashlight in the basement from that moment on.

  Our chuckles die down. I drink down the rest of my beer and set the bottle on the counter.

  “Another?” Mac asks.

  I shake my head and tell him, “Can we just get this over with?”

  Nodding his head, Mac finishes off his beer and grabs another one.

  “Let’s move to the living room,” he says before walking out of the kitchen.

  I take a seat on one end of the couch. Mac takes the other end, as if he knows that I need my distance. He sits on the edge and puts his elbows on his knees with the beer bottle hanging from both hands between his legs. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares off into space. He’s making me nervous and it’s pissing me off. He practically begged me to listen to him and now that I’m here he doesn’t say anything. Just before I turn to face him and tell him to get on with it, he starts talking.

  “As we both know, that night, your birthday, was supposed to be the night that we were going to make love for the first time. It was a night that I had been dreaming about since the day you kissed me at the lake.” He doesn’t look at me when he talks, just keeps looking forward, like he’s stuck in a memory. “I didn’t want it to happen there at Mark’s house. I had rented us a room at the bed and breakfast. I wanted it to be special. I had candles spread all over the room and rose petals on the bed. I was going to take you there after we hung out at the party for a little while. I wanted you to enjoy hanging out with your friends before I had you all to myself.”

  He stops talking long enough to take a swallow of his beer. I had no idea he did all that. I had just assumed that we would have sex at Mark’s, in one of the rooms upstairs. We had never spoken of the how or where, just of the when. It warms my heart knowing that he wanted it to be special.

  “Somehow or another we got separated. We had both been drinking but I made sure only to have two beers because I knew I had to drive us to the bed and breakfast. I started feeling weird, like I had drunk way more than what I actually did. I went looking for you so we could leave. Someone, I can’t even remember who, told me that you told them to tell me that you were waiting for me in a room upstairs. I went up to get you. I was stumbling and couldn’t keep my focus. When I made it to the only room that wasn’t occupied, I went inside. It was dark, only lit by a couple of candles. When I flipped the switch to turn the light on, it didn’t work. Thr
ough the dim candle light, I could tell someone was on the bed. I stepped further in the room when I realized it was you.”

  He looks over at me when he says that and his words cause me to suck in a breath. I know what he saw wasn’t true. I was still downstairs hanging out with Andrew. Why in the fuck would he think it was me?

  Before I get a chance to ask he continues, “She had on the same bra and panties set that I’ve seen you wear before. Her hair was the same color as yours. In my woozy and fucked up mind, it was you, Mia. She even smelled like you.”

  I am absolutely speechless. How in the hell is it possible that Tessa was able to pull that off? Her hair is blonde to my black. The chance of her owning the same bra and panties set is highly unlikely.

  Shit! A memory hits me and it has me clenching my jaw. That bitch!

  I look to Mac and see him watching me wearily, unsure of my reaction to his story so far.

  “One week before my birthday, I was getting dressed after gym and I couldn’t find my bra and panties. It was really strange, but then I thought someone had somehow picked them up with the towels and put them in the laundry by mistake. I never did end up finding them.”

  My blood is boiling. That cunt took my panties and used them. That is so gross and fucked up on so many levels. I’d like nothing more than to hunt her down and beat the living shit out of her. I knew she was conniving, but I didn’t realize she would stoop to such a low level. Before I get a chance to voice my opinion, Mac continues.

  “Even through the fog, I was still determined to take you to the bed and breakfast. Our first time wasn’t going to be at a party. The longer I stood there staring at you, the more fucked up my mind got. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t seem to get my bearings. It kept getting worse and worse. I started to realize I couldn’t drive so I was going to call a cab.

  “I walked over to the bed and called your name. You didn’t answer, just got up and crawled to the edge of the bed where I was standing. I was swaying badly and was getting pretty tired at this point. I could barely keep my eyes open. You started putting your hands on me, and it felt so damn good. I tried pushing you away, to explain my plans, but you just kept fucking touching me.”

  Mac puts his beer down on the coffee table with a loud bang and gets up. He rakes his fingers through his hair and starts pacing the room. I feel sick to my stomach the more he talks. To hear him talk about Tessa touching him, even when he thought it was me, claws at my insides. I want to tell him to shut up, that I can’t take anymore, but I need him to continue. I need to know the rest, even if it does destroy me in the process.

  “I knew something wasn’t right. Your hands weren’t as soft or as tender. Your hair was the same color but the texture felt different. No matter how hard I tried shaking off the effects of the alcohol, I couldn’t. It was as if I were floating outside my body. My mind was screaming at me to stop it, but my body was incapable to following through. You pushed me down on the bed and started removing my clothes. You put your mouth on me…”

  “Stop!” I say harshly, not able to handle the thought of that nasty bitch’s mouth on him. It was not me doing these things to him and I hate that he is referring that whore as me. I feel bile rise in my throat and I have to force the nasty taste from my mouth. “Stop saying ‘you’! It was not me doing those things!”

  Mac whips around at my harsh command, and I see the torment in his eyes. His hands are drawn into fists at his sides and his breathing has become heavier. My breathing isn’t much better.

  He walks up to me and pushes the coffee table back so he can kneel in front of me. Down on his knees, with both his legs on either side of mine so he can get as close as possible, he takes my hands that are clenched tightly.

  “Okay. I’ll skip all the gory details, but please let me finish, Mia. I need you to know that what happened wasn’t something I wanted,” he says solemnly.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute before opening them and nodding my head. As much as it hurts, I need him to continue as well.

  Still kneeling before me and keeping my hands in his, he starts talking again.

  “At that point I’d lost all reason to continue fighting. All I had thought about for years was finally taking you and the sensations were overwhelming. I stopped fighting and let her do what she wanted. I tried participating but my limbs were too heavy. I could barely move. I still couldn’t figure out why I was so fucked up. I had drunk beer plenty of times before but it had never affected me like that. Eventually, I didn’t care. She climbed on top of me and I knew the minute she did, something was way off. I think I blacked out at one point, because the next thing I knew you were walking in with her still on top of me. Even though I was still fucked up, I knew immediately that something was wrong. How in the fuck could you be on top of me and be at the door at the same time? Using the light from the hallway once you opened the door, I looked to the person hovering above me, and through blurred vision, I saw Tessa. The last thing I remember until morning was you screaming, throwing Tessa off, and leaning over the side of the bed throwing up.”

  Mac drops his head down onto my lap. I don’t know what to think or feel. I feel numb. I don’t know if I’m capable of feeling anything right now. I think I’ve always known in my heart that something wasn’t quite right about that night. I’ve always known that Mac loved me, and I believe he honestly wanted for both of us to be our firsts. I just couldn’t figure out why or how he could so carelessly give himself to someone else. It never made sense. I was so hurt by his actions that I just wanted to forget it ever happened. I never took the time to try to rationalize the whys. Hell, to be honest, I didn’t really care why. I just knew it happened and there was no excuse for it. I still don’t know if it makes a difference. Obviously, Mac was drugged and so it wasn’t entirely his fault, but I know I’ll never get the vision of a naked Tessa on top of an equally naked Mac out of my head. I remember the smirk she gave me when I was standing there staring at them with my heart laid out bleeding on the floor. I wanted to grip her by her hair and yank her off him. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She had already won.

  Mac lifts his head from my lap and I avert my eyes from his. I don’t want to see the emotions there.

  “Please say something, Mia.”

  Without looking at him, I ask him something that I pretty sure I already know the answer to, but need to hear him confirm it.

  “You were drugged?”

  “Yes. I knew that I had to have been given something. I had only had a couple beers and the way I felt was much more than that. They found Rohypnol.”

  I nod my head and pull away from him, not wanting him to touch me right now. I get up off the couch and walk to the window. I’m still shocked at what Mac told me. I have no idea what to say to him. Part of me wants to forgive him. We were both tricked and deceived. And there were more players than just Tessa. Another part of me wants to rant and throw a tantrum. How could he not realize it wasn’t me? Tessa and I are nothing alike. The rational part of my brain knows that he was easily swayed because of the drugs and the similarities Tessa made sure were there. But the part that connects to my heart still hurts and feels betrayed. Would I have done the same thing if the situation was reversed and someone had given me the date rape drug? I want to say no, that there was no way I could mistake Mac for someone else, but I can’t say for sure because I’ve never been under the influence of it.

  I turn around and face him with my arms wrapped around my waist. He’s back to sitting on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees. His head is lowered, and his hands are clenching his hair. When I speak, he lifts his head and stares at me with tortured eyes.

  “She was wearing a wig, wasn’t she?” That’s the only explanation there is. She’s always had blonde hair.

  “Yes. That’s why it felt different. It must have fallen off during…”

  I hold up a hand to stop him. “I get it.”

  He just nods and stares at me.

 
“After telling me this what are you expecting, Mac?” I ask him because I really want to know. Does he expect me to just forgive him and jump in his arms? It may explain a lot of what happened that night, but the fact remains, he slept with someone else. That’s not something I can easily forget or forgive.

  “I don’t expect anything, Pix. Would I be opposed to you giving us another try? Fuck no. I would jump for fucking joy to have you again. But I don’t expect it. I still know what I did was wrong, even though I didn’t know it at the time. I still hold myself responsible. I know that what I did is something you could never forgive me for. I just didn’t want you to continue to think that I did it because I didn’t love you enough. You were my entire world back then. I lived and breathed to make you happy. You were my reason for being. I would have given anything to keep that pain from you.”

  His words don’t bring me comfort. They just make the pain worse because I believe them with all my heart. The way he treated me, like I was a rare piece of treasure, is something I’ll never have again. What we had was special and precious, not something you get everyday. It was a once in a lifetime kind of love that many people never experience.

  “Can I ask you a question?” He asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you come looking for me upstairs?”

  And this is where the other players come into play.

  “I had been downstairs talking to Andrew and some friends, when I realized you had been gone for a while. I looked for you all over downstairs and even outside. When I came back inside, I ran into Stacey. She told me that you had given her a message for me to meet you upstairs.”

  I should have known right away that something wasn’t adding up. Stacey and Tessa were close friends. Neither Mac nor I ever associated with her. I should have realized that Mac would have never gone to her to give me a message.