Dirty Little Secrets

by Kierney Scott

  After several minutes James let out a stream of air as he opened his eyes, ready to face the world again. He turned on his cell phone and instantly regretted his decision: along with a message from Megan, telling him to have a good day and asking him to phone when he got a chance, there was a message from the private investigator he has hired to look into the death of Seth Blair.

  James shook his head. “When it rains, it fucking pours.”

  ***

  It was after midnight by the time James landed in DC. He needed to see Megan. He felt dirty and angry and other emotions he could not explain. He just needed to see her; intuitively he knew nothing would feel right until he saw her, held her. He needed Megan now.

  James drove past his house and continued on to the McCoy residence. He didn’t care who saw them. When he rang the doorbell, Ben answered, his eyes widening when he saw James. Obviously he did not expect his wife’s lover to pitch up on his doorstep.

  “I need to see Megan.”

  “She’s asleep,” Ben said but James was already taking the stairs two at a time.

  He didn’t bother knocking on her bedroom door.

  “Megan,” he whispered into the inky darkness. He fumbled for the light switch. “Megan.”

  Megan stirred in her bed, turning over as he called her name a third time. “Hi,” she murmured groggily. A wide smile appeared across her face and the glacier in the pit of his stomach began to thaw. He remembered why he had done it.

  There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much that needed saying, needed explained. “Megan, I need you,” was all he could manage.

  Megan jumped up from the bed and ran to the en suite. “Hold that thought.” She returned seconds later, her electric toothbrush buzzing as she cleaned her teeth. “I want to kiss you,” she said by way of explanation. The toothbrush sent a splattering of white foamy droplets across the room.

  “Megan,” he said. He sat down on her bed. He did not have any energy left. Everything he had to give was gone.

  Megan stopped brushing her teeth and rushed to him, dropping to her knees in front of him. She reached for his hands. “James what’s wrong.” Her fair brows were pinched together in concern.

  James pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his head heavy against her chest. “I need you, Megan.”

  She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. Her hands went to his face, lifting it until he was staring into her pale blue eyes. “I’m here, James. Please tell me what’s wrong. What can I do? Tell me what you need me to do. What do you need? I’ll do it.” Her voice was solemn and unwavering.

  At that moment he knew she would do anything he asked of her. He also knew something else: all those feelings he could not put a name to—the anger at people who hurt her, the jealousy, the desire to protect her—it was so clear now. He would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

  James pulled Megan onto his lap. “I did something I’m ashamed of and proud of at the same time. I feel shitty and good about myself. Mostly shitty,” he admitted. He pulled her in closer until he could feel the steady beat of her heart against his.

  Megan placed her hands on either side of him and held his face in her hands. “Whatever you did, we can fix it. I happen to be a kickass trial lawyer.” Her voice cracked. She was trying to joke. She tried to smile but the corners of her mouth barely rose, they could not get past the fear that held her face frozen. “Whatever it is, I will do whatever I can. Just tell me and I will fix it. Please just tell me.”

  He almost smiled. He had her loyalty. If there was ever any question in his mind, he knew now. She was trying to protect him. He had no doubt she would come out arms swinging, if he needed her. “One of my reporters got a call from Daryl Jackson this morning.”

  He felt Megan’s body go rigid against him. A look of complete terror settled on her face. He had never seen her scared. She was Megan, his brash, fearless woman. He fought the urge to not tell her any more. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she had been; he wanted to protect her from everything.

  But he also needed her; he needed her to tell him he had done the right thing. He needed her to tell him it wasn’t like when his father buried stories and manipulated the media. She was the only person who could reassure him now. “He wanted to sell a story on you. A tell-all.”

  Megan didn’t say anything; it was like she was frozen. “Megan, I paid him off. I bought his story, made him sign a contract. He can’t hurt you.”

  Megan’s chest was moving up and down with rapid shallow breathes. Her eyes clouded over. “Megan, please tell me I am not my father.”

  Megan shook her head. Her lip began to shake. “No James, you’re nothing like your father. You are…” Megan turned her head as a tear slid down her cheek.

  “Megan, please don’t cry. I fixed it. He can’t hurt you. I promise. I’ll pay off every cocksucking scumbag that climbs out of the swamps and tries to hurt you.”

  Megan turned back to him, her blue eyes flooded with unshed tears. “Kind. You’re kind. That is what I was going to say. I have never known anybody so kind. I don’t know why you are so nice to me.”

  “Because I…” James stopped himself before he said something to push her away. “Because you deserve someone to be kind to you.”

  Megan held her hands over her eyes and cried. Her body shook with it as she silently wept. James brought her in close to his chest but didn’t say anything. He just held her while she cried. He knew it had been far too long since she had. Gently he kissed the top of her head.

  Eventually she righted herself. Her blue eyes shone against the bloodshot backdrop. “Did you speak to him? My stepfather?”

  “I did.”

  Megan pulled back so she could see his face. She took a deep breath as a fresh spring of tears formed in her eyes. She had not seen Daryl Jackson is almost fifteen years but he still had the ability to make her blood run cold. “Was he here in DC? Is he here now?” Her voice betrayed her by cracking. She was a grown woman. She did not have to be scared of him or anyone else any more.

  “No, I went to Mississippi.”

  Megan shook her head; a fresh panic clawed at her stomach. “You were in Tally?” She prayed that she had misheard him. She didn’t want to imagine James there, her kind, strong James, in a place so ugly. “What did he tell you?”

  James shook his head. “Nothing important. He’s just a useless piece of shit trying to eke out his fifteen minutes.”

  “No, tell me what he told you. What did he say? I need to know.”

  James hesitated before he said. “Nothing newsworthy. You’re safe. He can’t sell his story.”

  Megan laughed bitterly. “His story? His story is a tale of a pathetic drunk who likes to terrorise women and children. He wanted to sell my story. What did he tell you? I can tell you are holding back. Just tell me.” There was a distance between them that words could not cross.

  He held her hands in his, encircling her with long fingers. She noted again how physically powerful he was, how much strength he had. But his hands only ever gave her pleasure, never pain. “Nothing, Megan. He did not tell me anything that changes who you are or how I feel about you.”

  “Please tell me everything. I can’t defend myself if I don’t know what he said.”

  “You don’t have to defend yourself. I don’t give a shit about anything he said. You never have to defend yourself to me or anyone else. Please don’t let anyone ever make you think you need to justify the choices you made.”

  A coldness settled on her.

  He knew.

  She wasn’t ashamed. She had made the only choice she could at the time. Her only regret was allowing herself to be put in that position. If she had been stronger she would have gotten out sooner. She bit into her lip until she tasted blood. “Did he tell you his name?”

  James did not pretend to not understand what she was asking. He nodded slowly. “You don’t have to tell me, Megan. It’s none of my busines
s. It’s no one’s business. I’ll make sure no one ever finds out.”

  Megan stood up. She needed to put some space between them. She needed to think, figure out how she felt. James was never supposed to know her, let alone know her secrets. She felt vulnerable and exposed. “What else did he tell you?”

  James ran a hand through his hair. “Megan, we don’t need to do this. It’s over.”

  It wasn’t over. It was over for Megan when no one in her life knew about her past. It was very much a real living, life-sucking creature now that James knew. “Just tell me.” She did not mean to sound harsh but adrenaline shaped her tone. She closed her eyes. “Start at the beginning. I need to hear it all.”

  James sighed. “He told me about the money you stole.”

  Megan’s head snapped up. “He what?!” she demanded. “He told you I stole money?” She could only shake her head. But then a slow realisation dawned on her. “How much did he say I took?”

  James stood up and reached for her but she stepped back. “Just tell me.”

  “He said you stole a thousand dollars and ran off to New York. Where you…” James didn’t finish, but he did not need to.

  Fresh tears burned in her eyes. “That pathetic woman. She told him I stole from him because she is a weak, spineless waste of skin.” Megan laughed through her tears, at her own stupidity, that she could still be hurt by her mother. She should expect it from her, but somehow this betrayal hurt as badly as the first. “I didn’t steal anything. My mother gave me that money to get away. It was the only truly selfless thing she ever did.”

  James opened his mouth to speak but she knew if he interrupted her, she might never get it out, and it needed to be said. “He told you about Pete. He was my second real boyfriend. The first boy I thought I loved. I was so fucked up I thought what happened between us was love.” Megan backed up further until her back was hard against the wall. “It started out fun. He was older than me, he had a car. He was so sophisticated. And by that I mean he could swear in more than one language.” Megan shook her head at her teenage self, the pathetic girl she no longer recognised.

  She opened her eyes long enough to see James seated on the bed. He did not make a move towards her. He was giving her the space she needed. “It started off so slowly. The first time he hit me was after a math test. I was talking to Daniel Jenkins. Pete thought I was making a fool of him, flirting with another guy. I wasn’t. Not that it matters, but I wasn’t. He smacked me across the face. I was…shocked…sad…surprised…I don’t know what I was, I was a stupid kid. After he was so apologetic, he bought me flowers told me how much he loved me. Said it was my fault because he loved me so much and I should know not to push him.” Megan covered her eyes again. She sounded so pathetic. She had heard the story so many times from battered women coming in to testify, but hearing the words out of her own mouth disgusted her. It made her sick that she had allowed herself to be that woman.

  “He was nice for a while, but then I did something else and he gave me a black eye. Of course he apologised and told me he loved me. And what did I know? That is what love looked like in my house too. We had established our pattern: he hit me, he apologised, and then he hit me again.” A chill ran the length of her spine. The years had done nothing to dampen the shame. If she could tell women anything, give them one piece of advice to keep them safe, it would be once you have established a pattern of violence, you are stuck. Fear and habit can keep you trapped forever. “Things escalated, it wasn’t just a slap here and there, it was fists and kicking and then…” She stopped to fortify herself. Once it was out there it could never be taken back. She couldn’t pretend any more. She took a deep breath. “Then he started forcing me to do things when he was beating me. In my mind it wasn’t rape. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t a virgin and I had sex with him willingly before that. Everyone knew I was a slut anyway. God I was so stupid.” She crossed her arms around herself in a protective embrace.

  James stood up but she held up her hand. “Don’t. I won’t be able to get this out if you do.” James nodded and sat down again. She closed her eyes again so she would not feel his stare against her skin. “It happened once. He apologised, I forgave him and it happened again and then it kept happening. Every time we fought. Right after my seventeenth birthday I realised I was pregnant. And a light went on. I looked at my mom, who spent her adult life neglecting her kids and being beat up. And I realised that was me. That is the person I had let myself become.” I fresh wave of shame pounded against her. It was getting harder to stand; her knees suddenly lacked the strength to keep her legs locked in place. She wanted to run but there was nowhere to go even if she could. She fisted her hands together and forced herself to continue.

  “I confessed to my mom and she did the only selfless thing she has ever done for me. She gave me a thousand dollars so I could leave and start a new life. I left that night. I left that girl in Tally. I got on a Greyhound bus and never looked back.”

  “Megan.” James stood and crossed the room to her and this time she did not stop him.

  “I am not religious at all, I don’t even believe in God. But I believe that spirit. It saved me. It got me out of Mississippi. I’m still alive because of it. This will make no sense to you. But getting pregnant, having an abortion, saved my life. I’m not sorry for it. I’m grateful that I am here. It gave me a chance to get out. So I’m not ashamed. I have been scared for years that someone would find out. I never even told Ben.”

  “Oh Megan,” he said as his arms circled her.

  “I’ve been scared for so long that some journalist would find out and run a story about the pro-life senator married to the woman with a past. I wasn’t worried about people knowing as much as people thinking they had the right to judge me. I don’t want to justify myself. I made the right choice. I would make a horrible mother. I didn’t protect myself from Pete, how could I be trusted with an innocent little person? Some people should not be allowed to be parents, clearly I am one of them.”

  “My sweet girl.” James lowered his head and kissed her cheek softly. “Those are two separate issues. Just because you had a termination does not mean you won’t be a wonderful mother someday. Give yourself a break, you were seventeen. Are you going to let some bastard take that away from you too? If you don’t want children, that’s fine. But don’t make that decision based on something that happened to you fifteen years ago. You’ve changed a lot since then.”

  Megan wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “There you go again being nice to me. I’m not even sure what to do with it. It was easier when you were the man-whore and I was the bitch. I know how to do that.”

  James shook his head. “No it wasn’t easier. It was just more familiar.” James held her closer. “Megan, I am going to tell you something but I want you to remember you are only wearing a nighty and you have no shoes. Remember that before you start running.”

  Megan nodded.

  “I love you.”

  James held her tighter but she relaxed into his embrace rather than fighting it. “Oh James. You don’t need to say that to make me feel better. You’re honestly the nicest person I have ever met. But you don’t need to say that.”

  James shook his head. “Seriously, woman? I just told you I loved you.”

  “I know. You don’t have to. I’mOK. I just haven’t cried in a while. Honestly I’m fine. You don’t have to say that.” She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

  James made an exasperated sound before he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. “I love you. I didn’t say it to make you feel better. I said it because it’s true. I love you. I lied for you and buried a story because I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror if I did not protect the woman I love. I don’t expect you to say it back but I’m not going to keep it to myself any longer. I love you, Megan.”

  She squeezed her eyes together as the familiar pressure began to build. She shook her head. “Did you not he
ar anything I just said?”

  James dropped her hands. Gently he cupped her face in his hands. “I heard you. Did you hear me?”

  Megan shook her head. “Please don’t say that. I…” I don’t deserve it. “I can’t do it. I can’t be in love.” She closed her eyes again, shutting him out.

  James gently lifted her chin. “Stop putting limits on yourself. You’re the most amazing woman I know. I’m so proud of you. When I saw the shithole you climbed out of, I was…fuck, I don’t know what I was. I don’t even have the words for it and I write for a bloody living. All the things I feel, all the things I can’t say—that is love. This is what it feels like. I finally know. So don’t you dare tell me not to feel it. I love you and I will keep loving you even when you are running scared and doing your best to push me away.”

  Megan held up her hands to push him away but he didn’t budge, he was too big, too strong. “We keep having all these firsts together and I ruin every one of them because that is what I do. For God’s sake James, save them for someone normal, someone who can do it. It’s not me. I’m not that person.”

  “I know who you are, Megan. I love who you are. If you don’t love me, that’s fine. It kind of sucks for me that I finally find a woman to love, and the feeling isn’t reciprocated. But it sort of serves me right for being an asshole.” James managed to laugh.

  “You’re not an asshole. Not even a little bit.” The faintest smile pulled on her mouth. “If I was remotely functional I would tell you everything I feel.” Megan stood on her toes again to kiss him gently on his full mouth. “I do have the words. I told you I was better educated.” Megan smiled. She had to make a joke because what she was feeling was too much. James took her to places she was scared to go. She had told someone she loved him, but what she had was a perversion of affection. The word was ruined for her now. But James deserved to know how deeply she cared for him. “I can’t use those words. They don’t mean the same thing for me.” She took a deep breath. She was about to let him in, share one of her last secrets. Words, like punches, could not be taken back. Once they were delivered, there would always be memory, a ghost of their impact.