by Melody Anne
Bill had made the boys do chores, teaching them how to have a good work ethic. If truth were to be told, he enjoyed working up a sweat. It was good for the body and the mind. That’s something Bill had taught him when he was young.
It didn’t take Bill long to answer the door and invite Byron in. “Wow, two visits in such a short period, and you’re still wearing the same expression I saw on your face last time. What in the world is going on in your life, my boy?”
“I just…I need to talk to you.”
“Well, let me get some food and drink. This looks like it could take some time,” Bill told him. Before Byron could say anything, Bill was sitting him down at the kitchen table while he went and rummaged through the fridge.
“I want to know why my dad did it. I want to know why he stayed with my mother when she was destroying his life.”
Bill paused briefly and the refrigerator door stood open. He finally finished pulling out the pitcher of what Byron assumed was iced tea, then he set it on the table and grabbed two glasses and a bag of chips and some artichoke dip.
He sat down and looked at Byron for several long seconds before he spoke. “Are you sure you should keep bringing up the past and dwelling on it? I would think it’s time you started looking forward instead of backward,” he finally said before pouring their tea and leaning back. “I’ve been told that it’s no damn good to drive when you’re staring in the rearview mirror.”
“I need to know why he did it. Did my mother hold something over him? Why else would he stay with her when she was so awful, and when she despised him?”
“Even though your mother truly was a cold hearted bitch. She turned into that. It wasn’t something she started as. I think life shapes you into the person you become, but it is still a choice how you choose to treat others,” Bill said with a sigh. “Your father certainly wasn’t a saint, either, Byron. It’s something I haven’t wanted to tell you, but he made several wrong turns himself. But is that important? I don’t see how any of this can help you.”
“My father was beaten down, and she was the one who did it,” Byron replied. “Of course he wasn’t a saint. He allowed it.”
“He’s the one who started it,” Bill said with a long sigh.
“Wait! What are you talking about? Start from the beginning, dammit.”
“Don’t use that tone on me, young man,” Bill warned him.
“I’m sorry, Bill. But please, just tell me the truth.”
“Your mom and dad met when they were young. She had high aspirations in life, wanting to have a career, a family, and a lot of money. But then your father walked in the door. The man you knew was nothing like the young man he used to be. He was full of life, full of confidence — a lot like Tyler, actually. He was good-looking and he knew it, but he was the life of the party with no chips on his shoulder like the ones you and Blake have worn for so long.”
“That’s not fair. I have reasons for having those chips,” Byron said in self-defense.
“I’m not saying you don’t. I’m just saying that your father was a cocky, fun-loving son of a bitch at one time, and he enjoyed the ladies, lots and lots of ladies.” Bill snorted in disgust.
Byron prodded him. “But then he met my mother…”
“He met her at a party,” Bill said. “She was there with some friends, a chance meeting, but your father was immediately attracted to her. When he wasn’t able to…um…bed her that first night, his fascination grew. He chased her. She knew about your father and his reputation. Girls talk too, and she wanted nothing to do with him. That made your father chase her all the harder.”
“I honestly can’t picture my father as a ‘lady-killer.’ He was just such a weak guy when I was a child.”
“You reap what you sow, boy.” Bill took a drink before continuing. “It took him months, and by the time your mother agreed to go out with him, he was completely infatuated with her.
“They dated for a few months, and she eventually fell head over heels in love. You see, at one time she actually did believe in love and romance and what a lot of people call happily-ever-afters. That ended about a year into their marriage,” Bill said with a sad shake of his head.
“Why?”
“Because as soon as your father had her toeing the line, he went back to his wild ways. Of course, he kept it hidden from her until after the wedding. He needed to have a beautiful wife to produce beautiful children, but he didn’t want to give up his extracurricular activities. Almost as soon as they returned from the honeymoon, she found him with her best friend in her own bed.”
“Ouch. That had to hurt.” Though Byron used those words, he felt zero sympathy for what his mother might have been feeling.
“Yeah, it did. And your dad didn’t even promise to never do it again. He said she could shut up and give him the kids he wanted, and in turn, he would give her the lifestyle she wanted. She was already pregnant with Blake, and she knew to leave him would mean a life of poverty and hardships trying to raise the child. You see, your father assured her he’d disown the kid and leave her with nothing. She’d signed an airtight prenup,” Bill said.
“How do you know all of this?” Byron asked.
“I’ve been around a long time, Byron,” Bill told him.
“Go on.”
“After she had Blake, she changed. Her strength — if you want to call it that — increased, and she gave back to your father what he’d been giving to her. She slept with every guy she could find, and she grew colder and colder. She pulled away from you and Blake. And…” Bill stopped himself.
“What?” Byron demanded.
“There’s more to it with Tyler, but I won’t share his secrets,” Bill said with another sad shake of his head.
“I need to know!”
Bill ignored that, but he continued with his story. “Your father had a minor stroke. Maybe drugs, maybe fate — I don’t know — but it changed him. He was no longer such a devil-may-care guy. He’d met his own mortality and he begged your mother to forgive him. It was her turn to tell him to shut up and do what he was told. That’s the man you knew, the man who appeared to be so beaten down.”
“Whipped,” Byron said.
“In a way he was, but they equally killed their love for each other. Now I’m not saying what your mother did in the end was acceptable. Far from it. I’m just saying that when two people set out to destroy each other, there’s going to be a very unhappy ending.”
Byron sat back in stunned silence. This sort of thing didn’t happen in real life, did it? Not really. How could these two people who had given him life be so monstrous? How could he ever trust love? Hell, how could he ever trust himself? He didn’t think he could.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong,” Bill insisted. “Just because your parents made mistakes doesn’t mean that everyone is evil — women or men. If you have a chance at love, grab it and don’t make the mistakes your parents made.”
“It doesn’t sound like anyone really knows what love is,” Byron said slowly. “Unless you count Foreigner.”
“I loved my wife completely, from the first day I met her until the day she died. No. That’s not even true. I still love her now and it’s been a few years since I’ve gotten to hold Vivian in my arms. She was my everything. And because I had her, my life was a much better place to be.”
“You’re certainly the exception to the rule, then, Bill, because you’re the only person I know who had a good marriage.”
“Your brother has a very good marriage, and soon he’ll have a baby,” Bill pointed out.
“Maybe it just looks good on the outside.”
“And maybe you should have a little more faith. Have you ever seen Blake look happier?”
“No, but what guarantee do you have that it will last forever?”
“And so we’ve finally come to why you’re really here,” Bill said with a smile. “And I hate to tell you this, but there are no guarantees in life, Byron. I couldn’t have s
aid without a doubt that my beautiful wife would love me forever, but she chose to do just that, just as I chose to cherish her and love her beyond the grave. When you marry someone — hell, when you just love someone — you’re taking a leap of faith. You are giving something of yourself, and to truly love someone, you can’t expect anything back from them, not even their love.”
“That makes no sense,” Byron said. He stood up from the table and walked to the window, dragging his hands through his hair. “I need it to make sense. I need it to be black and white.”
“Love isn’t black and white,” Bill told him. “It’s multicolored, and multidirectional, and it will take you on the best ride of your life. But you can’t even begin the adventure until you give your heart away.”
Bill became silent, and, with his heart aching, Byron looked out the window at the empty field behind his mentor’s house. There was so much information passing through his brain he didn’t know what to do with it.
“You’re in love with McKenzie, aren’t you?” Bill asked.
Byron shook his head. No. He wouldn’t and couldn’t say that, but he felt a strange sensation in his throat and knew right then that he was in denial. Somehow, against his will, he had fallen for this woman, he had given her a piece of himself. He’d given her a piece of his heart. And what really frightened him was that he didn’t know if he wanted to get it back.
He’d sat there with her scum of an ex and heard what the man had said, and he knew Nathan was a liar. He knew the man had probably put her through hell, and then some, and he knew there was no way McKenzie could ever be the monster he’d wanted her to be. She was strong and kind, and she had been through a lot. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore.
“I need to go,” Byron said, overwhelmed with what he had heard and the way he was feeling.
“I understand that, but if you take anything with you today, Byron, then take this. If you can’t let go of the demons of your past, and you care anything at all for this woman, you have to let her go. Don’t punish her for mistakes she hasn’t made. She’s not your mother, and you aren’t your father. You’re better than that. To love someone is to truly want the best for them — even if that’s letting them go.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Byron had to say.
“You’ll make the right choice,” Bill told him. “It’s just who you are.”
As Byron drove away from Bill’s house, he realized that the man who had stepped in and raised him and his brothers had a lot more faith in him than he had in himself. But he didn’t know if he could be that man that Bill saw. Not even for McKenzie.
Chapter Thirty
What are you doing here?”
That was the question of the hour, Byron thought. He’d gone straight from Bill’s to McKenzie’s front door, and now that he was standing there, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what to say to her.
“Byron?” Her blank expression changed to one of concern, and it was that look on her face that snapped him out of his trance.
“I wanted to talk,” he said. “Can I come in?”
She looked at him suspiciously for a few tense moments before speaking again. “I don’t think we have anything else to talk about, Byron.”
“I met Nathan tonight.”
Those four short words zapped all the color from her face, and she stared at him in shock. What he wouldn’t pay to know what was going through her mind right now.
“I don’t understand…” Her voice had grown hoarse.
“I saw you with him at the restaurant we went to with Jewell a few weeks ago. I followed him,” Byron told her.
“Why would you do that?” she asked, gripping the sweater she was wearing.
“I was jealous,” he admitted.
“Why in the world would you be jealous? You…you…” She was so stunned, she lost her ability to form words.
“Please just tell me what happened when you first met him.” Byron was practically begging.
She opened the door wider, allowing him in. He didn’t question her; he just followed her into the living room, where she walked over to a window and stared out into the darkness.
“I told you about the crash, the one that put my sister in a coma when she was only fourteen. And you know that my mother blamed me for it. . .” When she paused, Byron made sure not to move a muscle for fear that she would clam back up. But she soon started speaking again.
“After four years of my mother’s bitter rages, drinking, and constant blame, I’d had enough. I felt guilty about being angry at her, at my sister, at the world, but I had to get away. I got a job at a small café, rented a room near the local college, and thought I was doing pretty dang well for myself. I would go visit my sister occasionally, but every time I did, my anger would build back up. My life had been hell since the wreck, and there were so many times I wished I were the one in that bed, the one oblivious to it all. But those thoughts gave me even more reason to feel guilty, because at least I had a life to live, while she didn’t. No matter what I did, I was always racked with guilt back then…”
“You were just a kid, McKenzie.”
“Don’t, Byron. I’ve heard that a million times. If you don’t let me talk, then I’m not going to be able to get through this.”
“I’m sorry. Please go on.” He wanted to reach for her, but he knew she was fragile and he wanted her to continue.
“When I turned nineteen, met what I thought was a sophisticated, beautiful man. He was ten years older than me, but that was all part of the appeal. He had this smile that seemed to light up an entire room, and he came into the diner for months, flirting with me, and only with me, even though there were far prettier waitresses working there.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Byron mumbled before shutting up again.
“Even though I was so young, I’d been living with trauma all through my teenage years. Impressionable years, or so they call them. I never dated — hell, I’d never even kissed a guy at that point. I was shy and didn’t know what to think about all of the attention I was getting from this man. So when he asked me out on a date, I just nodded yes. I couldn’t even get words to come from my mouth.”
Byron felt thwarted when McKenzie closed her eyes briefly. When her eyes were open, he could read her expressions like a book, and he didn’t want to be shut out right now.
She continued before he had to prompt her. “We went on several dates over the next two months, and I fell irrevocably in love with the man. Well, irrevocably isn’t quite the word, but that’s the way it seemed. He always walked me to my door, kissed me goodnight, and never tried to push it further than that. We would talk about sex, and at first, I was terrified to even consider it, but then the kisses grew a little longer, and I began feeling things inside me I never thought I would feel — sensations I thought only existed in romance novels. So I told him I wanted to try…you know…soon.” The words seemed to burn her as she spoke them.
“One night he took me to his house, or what I thought was his house. It was on the outskirts of town, big, expensive — the kind of place where real artwork hung on the walls, not just prints,” she said with a bitter laugh.
“McKenzie…” Byron was beginning to feel bad about forcing her to take this stroll down the ugliest possible memory lane.
She continued anyway and he didn’t stop her. “We sat down and he poured some wine, very good wine…” Another pause. And this time there were tears in her eyes again when she looked at him. “And then everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a big, horrible bed, lying…naked beside a man I didn’t know. My entire body hurt, and I was bruised all over. I was terrified. I slipped from his bed, found my clothes on the floor, threw them on, then quickly ran from the house. Nathan was waiting outside in his car.
“I thought we were dating, but it turns out that he was really just a pimp, a guy who made a lot of money at his job. He found inexperienced young women — of course, they had to be virgins — and he wined and d
ined them, made sure they were a perfect fit, a girl without ties, a girl who no one would ever believe if she cried ‘rape,’ and then he matched them with a john who would pay a lot of money for a night of…‘pleasure.’”
“Crap, McKenzie…” He should stop this, but he didn’t.
“The man I’d been dating wasn’t really dating me,” she said. “He was prepping me to be his next call-girl. When it was the first time for a virgin woman, he always got paid a lot of money, and then, after that first time, some of the girls stayed on with him. He paid them more than they’d make in their pathetic restaurant jobs, and his clients were…how do I put this?” She took a deep breath. “Men with a certain tastes, but men who could pay a lot for their twisted lifestyles.”
“Like the men you catered to at Relinquish Control,” Byron said. What the hell? Why would she have opened a place that provided services like that if she’d been through such a traumatizing experience? As if she could read his mind, she addressed that next.
“I took the blood money I had earned from him and I ran far away. It took me a couple of years, but I saved every dime, made a few very good investments, and then I got the idea for Relinquish Control. Not to take power away from women, but to give it back to them. My girls had nothing, and I saved them from the streets. I took the control away from the men who make women’s lives hell. Those men had to come to me, and they had to sign a contract, and my girls’ safety was ensured. I had pictures of the men, their ID, everything to identify them if one of my girls disappeared. The man who raped me got away with it. Nathan Guilder got away with it. I wasn’t letting other men get away with anything.”
“You can’t stop it from happening,” Byron told her.
