by Jay McLean
Chapter 49
*Mikayla*
*Age 8*
“Okay, sweetheart. What story would you like to read?”
“I want you to tell me a story, my own story please, Mommy,” she smiles at me. Her brown eyes softening when she sees my pleading face.
“Okay, I’ll tell you a very special story. It’s a fairytale, about kissing a Prince.”
“Yuck, Mommy! Kissing is gross.”
She laughs a little. I don’t know why, I don’t think it’s funny.
“This is about a special kiss. Are you ready?”
“Yep.” I nod.
“One day in the future Kayla, you’ll meet a handsome Prince. A Prince so handsome, he will make your heart skip.”
I giggle, so does she.
“Every Princess has one Prince to share the loves and joys of life, and do you know how that Princess knows which Prince is hers?”
“How Mommy?”
“From the kiss.”
“But how?”
“The very first kiss with your Prince will change your life. When your lips touch for the first time, the earth will feel like it stops moving, but in the same moment, the world around you spins. It’ll feel like fireworks in the night sky. Like a bright light in the darkness. You’ll feel your heart beat fast in your ears but silence will surround you. And when you pull apart and open your eyes and look at each other, and really see each other. You’ll know it in that moment, through that kiss, that you’ve just let someone own a piece of your heart, and you’ll live happily ever after.”
Chapter 50
*Mikayla*
"Jesus Christ, Kayla. Where the fuck have you been? Where is your phone?" His hands are out, asking me to hand it to him. I get it out of my purse. It's flat.
I've just walked into the house and everyone is here. Jake, Logan, Lucy, Cam, Heidi and Dylan.
Jake takes the phone off me and sees it's dead.
He walks to the bedroom in a huff, presumably to charge it.
When he walks back he seems pissed.
"Start charging your fucking phone, Kayla. I'm sick of this shit,” he growls out.
"Jake,” Logan says, its a warning.
I look at Jake, he's never acted like this before.
Only that one time when he thought me and Logan were fucking around.
Jake snaps his eyes to Logan, then looks to me, and his features even out. Something else takes over.
He walks up to me and takes my hands, I'm wary, because I don’t know what the hell is going on.
"I'm sorry, baby. I've just… we've been trying to call you. Has no one talked to you today?"
I look at him, brows furrowed, confusion all over my face. I sweep the rest of the room and everyone is watching me, waiting.
For what?
I slowly shake my head no.
"I'm scared, Jake. What's going on?"
He takes my hand and walks me to our bedroom.
He sits me on the edge of the bed and starts pacing the room.
He keeps looking up at me, and I know he's nervous or something, like he's trying to find the right words to say next. It's like the conversation is playing out in his head and he keeps restarting it.
He's opened his mouth three or four times already but keeps snapping it shut, changing his mind.
What the fuck is going on?
"What the fuck is going on? Just say it already. You're scaring me. Is it your parents? Did something happen? Julie?"
"Shit!" he says. "No, baby, shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. No, they're all good. It's not that, sorry, babe.”
"Then what is it? Just tell me. Just get it out. Please?”
He sits on the floor, on his heels, in front of me.
His head bowed.
His hands hold both of mine, playing with the rings on my fingers. My mom and dad’s wedding and engagement rings.
It's about them.
When he looks up there are tears brimming in his eyes.
"They caught him, Kayla. They found the asshole that killed your family.”
***
I don't leave the bedroom for three days, and the whole time, Jake is beside me, leaving only when absolutely necessary.
I hate this me, this stupid, broken me.
I hate that Jake is back to being the guy that has to save me.
And I hate him.
I hate him so fucking much.
Christopher Leon.
That's the assholes name.
The murderer.
The one that took everything.
It shouldn't matter, that they caught him. I mean, it shouldn't make me this upset, because whether they have him or not, it's not going to bring back my family.
Apparently he was busted breaking into another house and the DNA matched.
Nathan, Jake's dad, has kept Jake informed on the situation. He’s been keeping a close eye and making sure the asshole doesn't find any loopholes in the system that might make him think he deserves less than what he fucking is.
A murderer.
The guys came around to check on me a few times but Jake said I wasn't up for visitors. Even James came around once. I even heard him and Jake talking, like a legit decent conversation. No name calling. No punches.
Nothing like a fucked up girl to bring peace between to enemies.
So for three days I cried, I sulked and I went through all the stages of grief all over again, like I was reliving their deaths.
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and today, I woke up, and reached the final stage, Acceptance.
I was not going to let this asshole ruin me, not again.
I will not let bad people dictate what should be a good life.
Jake walks into the bedroom and pauses slightly when he sees me up and dressed.
He's been super wary of me, not wanting to push me too far, or suffocate me, or be too far away.
He has been perfect.
My perfect boyfriend.
He eyes me sideways, a little confused.
I would be too.
I'm wearing yoga pants, one of his baseball jerseys and holding his bat.
"Hey, baby." I saunter over to him and kiss him. Really kiss him. He kisses me back and cups my ass lightly.
"Jesus, Kayla. I've missed you," he says, as he deepens the kiss and leads me toward the bed.
I laugh into his mouth. "Jake, its been three days, not three years"
"I know but it's hard… I was going to say it's hard keeping my hands of you but I think I'll leave it there… yep… it's just hard,” he says this with a smirk, as he thrusts into me and I laugh out loud.
"It's so good to hear you laughing again," he says, as he takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. "I so much more than a lot love you, you know that right?"
I nod. Because I do. I do know. And I so much more than a lot love him too.
"So what’s with the outfit?" he asks, slowly standing up from the bed, and pulling me up with him. "Not that I don't love it. It's hot as fuck, you wearing my jersey, but why?"
"I want you to pitch to me.” I throw him a baseball.
"What?"
"You've never pitched to me, I want to see if I can hit one, please?"
"You want me to like, pitch to you like you're a child, or you want me to challenge you?"
"Challenge me."
"Okay then…"
We go to our little back yard and for an hour or so, we take my mind off Christopher fucking Leon.
"Hey umm… Mikayla?" Jake says. Pitch, hit, chase, repeat.
Jake barely ever calls me Mikayla, so what ever it is he's about to say, I'm already paying attention.
“Yeah?” I answer, wariness in my voice.
"Umm, I know that uhh,” he clears his throat, takes his cap off, runs his hand through his hair, then replaces the cap, backwards. Nervous habit. Shit.
"I know that you wear your mom’s engagement ring, but umm… I mean, what happens if, I mean when,
a guy, uh, hopefully me. I mean, what happens if… when… said guy, me, wants to propose?"
What. The. Fuck.
Where did this come from?
“What are you saying, Jake?"
His eyes go big.
“Oh shit, Kayla, no! I'm not asking you, shit. I was just um, I was just wondering.” His hands are in the air, waving frantically, he's animated trying to get his point across.
I laugh at him, because he's trying to backtrack, and it's funny as hell.
***
We order Chinese for dinner and eat on the sofa watching TV.
"I would want my own ring,” I say.
“Huh?"
"When said guy, hopefully you, proposes, I would want my own ring. Just so you know." I look down at my food for a second, then back up to him.
A blush is creeping to his cheeks.
I continue, "I love these rings, but it's like, it's theirs you know. Like, it represents them and their story. I think I would want my own, to represent my fairytale, my prince, my happily ever after."
He smiles. "Okay then."
Then goes back to his food.
***
We're lying in bed that night after making love. I've learned to tone down the noise level, which is hard, because in the months I've learned to tone it down, Jake's learnt my body inside out. He knows me. Like, really knows me.
"Do you want to go to the hearing, Kayla?"
"Do you think I should?"
"I mean, Dad says it's an open and shut case, I don't think you need to be there."
"Then I don't want to."
"Are you sure?”
"I think I'm done with the past, Jake. I think I just want my future.” I look at him, and he gets it. He knows what I mean. I just want him.
Chapter 51
*Mikayla*
It's been one year since my life changed. Since the people I thought I loved betrayed me, and the people I did love were taken from me.
And it’s been one year since I stood in front of my forever.
Jake and I stayed at his parent’s house over the weekend. Now we're here, at the cemetery. Red Tulips in hand for Mom’s birthday tomorrow. Jake got them. I don't know how he knew, or how he remembered it was Mom’s birthday, but he did, and it's one of the reasons I love him, so much more than a lot.
We walk hand in hand toward their headstones.
There's a lone figure standing by them, dressed in black, sunglasses on, looking down.
I don't recognize her from this far, but I'm not really in the mood to be sharing the space with anyone, so we wait.
When she turns around, I see her. But it's not really her, it’s like a shadow of who she was once. Her long blond hair now a shade of straw, cut to a bob just below her chin. She's lost weight everywhere but her belly, because her belly is huge, pregnant huge, about to give birth pregnant huge.
I squeeze Jake's hand in mine and he looks down at me.
That beautifully handsome, manly, rugged face. Those blue eyes, so intense.
"It's Megan.” I say, nodding my head in her direction.
He nods once in understanding. "I'll be in the truck.” He kisses my temple and walks away.
As I walk to her, she must sense me coming because she looks up at me, then straight back down. I think maybe she wants to leave, but she doesn't know if she should, so she waits, because either way, I know she was here, which has to mean something. Right?
I stand next to her, not looking at her, her not looking at me. We stare at the headstones.
"You’re pregnant?" I ask, because I feel like we should be talking if were going to stand here.
"Yeah,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, like she's been crying, or she's taken up smoking 2 packs a day.
"Where's the dad?"
"Don't know.”
"He bailed on you, huh?"
"No, Mick, I mean I don't know who the dad is.”
I clear my throat.
"What are you doing here?"
I still don't look at her.
She stares straight ahead.
"The adoptive parents live in town. I'm here until I have the baby, then I'm gone."
It's silent for a moment.
"I meant, what are you doing here at the cemetery."
"Oh,” she says quietly. "I can go." She turns to leave.
"Where were you, Megan?" I say louder, because I need to know why my best fucking friend in the whole world never bothered to contact me in the entire year my family’s been dead.
“It's been a year, where the fuck have you been?"
"I didn't think you wanted to see me."
"Shit, Megan. This shit, what happened here," I wave my hands to the headstones, "it was bigger than you and I, it was bigger than high school drama, and you cheating with James. My family were murdered and I needed my best friend. Where the fuck were you?"
I'm angry now and my words show it. I spit out each one so she knows that I'm so fricken mad at her. Tears are starting to fall down my cheeks and I don't bother to wipe them.
"I couldn’t,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it.
"You couldn't? What the hell does that mean?"
“It means, I couldn't face you, Mick. I just couldn't."
"WHY?" I yell out. I don't care about hiding my feelings anymore.
"Because Mick…” Then she breaks down into a sob and falls to her knees, pregnant belly and all.
I stay standing… and I wait.
"Because…" she continues. “Because it's my fault they’re dead."
My eyes dart to hers and my breathing accelerates.
"What does that mean, Megan?" I say through clenched teeth.
"It means I called him, I told him to do it. Chris - Christopher, I called him that night and I asked him to steal that necklace James gave you for your 18th birthday."
"What?" I can't possibly believe this shit.
"He wasn't supposed to kill them. No one was supposed to be home. I told him not to hurt anybody. Fuck Mick, you have to believe me. He wasn't supposed to hurt anybody."
I stare straight ahead, tears falling fast, my fists are balled. So many fucking questions and emotions running through my mind. I don't know what to say, what to ask. I want to kill her.
"I fooled around with him a few times, Chris I mean, I knew he would do it for me. I just… when you caught us at the restaurant, and he told you he loved you… he just discarded me like a piece of trash. He didn’t even care how I felt. I'm sorry, Mick, for all of it, for James. Fuck, I fell in love with him. I was in love with him and he didn't even care, and I was so fucking angry. I saw him first, that day we met him. You remember? He was what I wanted. You didn't even want a boyfriend and you got the best one. You didn't even want him. I did."
She says this like were 14 fucking years old. I'm so consumed with anger, and hurt and every other fucking emotion that I can't see straight. I have to keep my eyes closed so I can keep my breathing calm.
I think of Jake.
"I went home after that, after you caught us. I was expecting James to come after me but he didn't. He didn’t even call me to see if I was okay. Nothing. And then I see you," she says, and her tone is almost angry. Like she has the right to be upset. "I see you doing that shit to James' truck, and you’re laughing and smiling and you have these people that I've never fucking seen before laughing with you and helping you through your pain. They don't even know you, and already they like you. And then you're in fucking Jake Andrews’ arms…”
I speak up, because this has nothing to do with Jake and she shouldn't even be breathing his name. "Jake has nothing to do with this. You didn't even know who he was when you saw us at James' house."
"That’s bullshit, Mick. Everyone knows Jake and Logan. They were like, the hottest guys within 15 schools. Only you, perfect little Mikayla with the perfect boyfriend, so loyal, you didn't bother to see anyone else. Only you didn't know who he was."
I want to punch her and if she brings up
Jake's name again I will.
"And that’s when I called him, Mick. I called Chris because I wanted to take something away from you, like you had me, but he wasn't supposed to kill them. I loved them too.”
"Don't you fucking DARE!" I snap at her. "Don't you fucking dare talk about my family or my boyfriend like you give a shit. You have no fucking right to speak their names or even think about them for the rest of your fucking life. Do you understand?" I breath in, trying to keep myself composed because I really don't want to punch a pregnant chick.
In the distance I see Jake get out of the truck, but he waits.
"Are you going to turn me in?" she asks, actually looking concerned.
And thats when I see her, truly see her.
"Look at you,” I spit out. "Who the fuck are you, Megan? What the fuck happened to you?”
I look at her disgusted, nose scrunched.
"You sleep around so much you don't even know who the father of that baby is. You think opening your legs and having some random guy pound into you is going to make them love you? Like James didn't. Every fucking day you have to look at yourself in the mirror. Every day you can live with the guilt of what you did. Of killing my parents, people that genuinely loved you. Killing my fucking 9 year old sister who looked up to you. Knowing that she'll never grow up and experience life. Everyday you have to wake up and be the person you are, and you have to live with it, and that Megan, that's punishment enough.”
And then I walk away from her, from all of this.
And I run to Jake.
Who's waiting for me.
With arms wide open.
