INFLUENCED: A Good Girl, Bad Boy Love Story

by Keyes, Janae

  Tearing my body away from Spencer’s, I tore from the office as fast as I could. My husband calling my name after me, but I needed to be alone. To find it somewhere within myself to compose myself.

  I flew into the women’s restroom and went right into the first stall, slamming it behind me. I put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it, face in hands, bawling like a small child. More times than I was willing to admit, this was me growing up, crying and alone because I wasn’t performing how my parents expected me to.

  The ridicule and the conflict was tearing me apart. On one hand, I wanted to be the perfect child. I wanted my parents to gush about how proud they were of me and how I’d lived up to their expectations. On the other, I was madly in love. I was with the man that kept me burning for more of him and encouraged me through every obstacle.

  “Peaches!” Spencer’s voice called before I heard the distinct sound of the door to the restroom opening and closing. “Megan, Baby, I know you’re in here.” He was standing right outside the stall door.

  “Spencer, this is the ladies room,” I countered through my continuing sobs.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said sternly. “My wife is upset and I’m not going anywhere until I can make it better again. That’s my fucking job. Please, come out for me.”

  With a click, I unlocked the door to the stall and stepped out. I saw my reflection in the mirror opposite the stall, I looked a mess.

  I stepped to the sink and looked down into the porcelain before glancing up into the mirror, Spencer behind me, his hands on my arms, as he attempted to bring me some sort of comfort.

  “When you look in the mirror, who do you see?” Spencer asked of me, the reflection of his eyes in the mirror demanding my answer. “Who do you see?”

  “Me, I see me,” I answered him as I turned away from the mirror, peering down at the floor.

  Before I could go anywhere, Spencer took his hands to my shoulders, sharply turning me back in the direction of the mirror and forcing my head up to stare at myself. I stood in hugging my arms around myself.

  “Tell me, Megan, do you see the you that your parents want? Or do you see the Megan that you want to see?” He held me firm in my spot, not allowing me to move as I stared at myself, Megan. Tears trickled down my face.

  “Please, Spence, I don’t want to do this. Let me go,” I whined.

  “No, I want you to tell me because I know you want to see the Megan you want, but you are forcing the Megan your parents want.” He knew me too well. He was my husband after all.

  “Who do you want?” I breathed as my tears dripped from my chin.

  “What I want doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is what you want and only you,” he insisted and deep down inside, I knew he was right. The only thing holding me back was the fact that I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready out of the fear of my parents rejecting me.

  No longer holding back, I began to sob into my hands. Spencer pulled me close to his warm body. I turned and placed my head directly on his chest, unable to control my sobs.

  “I know who I see,” he began as he rubbed my back, calming me instantly. “I see a vivacious woman, who is incredibly talented and dominates whatever she puts her mind to, she is sexy as fuck, and the woman I plan to love through everything, my wife.”

  How did I get to be so lucky? Maybe I’d never know, but I knew I was with every breath I took. I’d been influenced, influenced to step outside of the space I’d spent my life forced into. I’d been influenced to find my freedom and finally, I could allow in a happiness I never knew.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Spencer

  It’d been two weeks since we had told Megan’s parents about our marriage, and she still wasn’t talking to them. After our impromptu bathroom pep talk session, Megan had marched into her mother’s office and made me so incredibly proud of her.

  “Spencer and I are married. You can either support me and our love, or you can stay out of our lives. The choice is yours, but I refuse to let either one of you tell me what I can or cannot do any longer. I am an adult, I make my own decisions, and I choose him.”

  She walked out of their room and straight into my arms. Never in my life had I been more proud of her than I was in that moment. She was my strong, brave girl, and I was so in love with her. I took her home and showed her how much I loved her all night long. As we laid in bed the next morning, wrapped up in each other’s arms, she told me how free she felt, and I felt my heart grow a little bit more.

  “Mr. Grant?” The secretary asked, pulling me from my memories.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to disturb your lunch, but I have something addressed to you that must be signed for,” she said, handing me a thick yellow envelope.

  “Thank you,” I replied, signing for the letter.

  Gingerly, I opened the package, and pulled out the inserts.

  The handwriting immediately made me sick to my stomach, dredging up another set of memories from a time I had no desire to return to.

  “Fuck,” I murmured.

  Spencer,

  I’m sending this message to you against my parents wishes, but I wanted to let you know that I forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to me, for raping me, for forcing me. I know it wasn’t your intention. I’m hoping one day I’ll be able to move on with my life without thinking about what you did to me, But I love you, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to see you. Maybe I can come out there and we can be together again? I don’t know, but think about it. You may have coerced me into having sex with you against my will, but I’ll always hold a place for you inside of my heart. I’m always gonna be your pumpkin, and you’ll always be my Pooh Bear. Dream of me!

  -Love Always and Forever

  - Chloe

  “The prodigal son. Not so innocent after all, are you?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Chase?” I growled, standing abruptly, my chair flying out behind me.

  “It doesn’t matter why I’m here, dear brother, but I think now, I have a purpose. Wonder what our darling Megan will think of that scrap of paper in your hand,” he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I wanted nothing more than to punch the smugness off of his face, but he was right. I had to tell Megan about the letter and what was apparently happening.

  “She isn’t yours, and she never will be. She is mine and if you say one fucking word to her, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand, you vile pig?”

  “Big words coming from someone who’s being accused of the same thing I am being called,” he sneered.

  “Accused is the operative word here, Chase. I didn’t do the things this letter says, and you did.”

  He shrugged, not even bothering to deny it.

  “Who are you?” I whispered, not truly believing that this person in front of me was the boy I had grown up with.

  “Me? Who the fuck are you? I am a fucking man, and you’re nothing but a little fucking boy, whipped by a little pussy. Not even good pussy.”

  I didn’t remember hitting him, all I could see was red, and the next minute he was on the floor, knocked out cold. Knowing my luck at the moment, he would probably press charges, but no one talked about my wife that way.

  I shook out my hand and left the break room, with my brother laying there, not worth the time it would take to find someone to call for help. He’d wake up eventually, and if I had to knock him out a million more times until he got the point, I would do it. Every. Fucking. Time.

  My feet slowed as I thought about what I was going to say to her; how I was going to explain to Megan the letter now crunched in my fist. She knew the basics of my time in Europe, but she didn’t know everything. I knew I should have told her a long time ago, and definitely before I made her my bride, but I didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes something I knew I was going to see as soon as I found her.

  “Excuse me,” I said, knocking on the conference room door where all of the in
terns sat. “Has anyone seen Megan?”

  “I think she went to Mrs. Reese’s office,” one of them said, not even bothering to look up from the mountain of paperwork in front of him.

  I shook my head. Some people were just not meant to be lawyers. They couldn’t hack it, and never would be able to. They would learn in time.

  Turning around, I walked toward something that felt like an uncertain doom. The churning in my gut turned ravenous, and I could feel the nausea rising up in my throat. This was going to be bad, and I wanted to avoid it like the plague, but it had to be done.

  Squaring my shoulders, I rounded the corner to Marian’s office, only to come up short as my wife’s long legs took a step into her mother’s office and the door shut behind her. The small amount of courage I had built up was now gone as I made my way back to my own office to wait for her meeting to be over. Hopefully, I could just take her home and tell her in bed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? I could hope right.

  I took off my jacket, hung it on the coat rack and sat in my chair and waited for a talk that would be inevitable. Hopefully it would be later, rather than sooner.

  Megan

  The last couple weeks had been awkward, but peaceful. I went to work everyday at the same place as my parents, but didn’t speak a word to them. I’d come to the conclusion that, if they couldn’t accept me at my happiest, they’d never accept me.

  I enjoyed the quiet, but oddly, missed them. I’d been busy though, the fundraising evening for the community center came and went. We raised a ton of money, not just to keep the classes going, but enough for the community center as a whole.

  A good chunk of the money was anonymous donation, which I knew right away was Spencer. Heather and Steve also donated a very large amount and sat in the front row with Spencer.

  So when my mom called me into her office, I was shocked. I had no clue what to expect, as we hadn’t uttered a single word to one another in two weeks.

  I’d followed along blindly and took a seat across from her as she took her own seat. She looked at me, her look was somber, but other than that I couldn’t read it. Was she sorry? I honestly couldn’t tell.

  “Megan, I called you in here because I think we need to clear some things up,” she said as she pulled a folder from a pile on her desk.

  I kept my arms crossed over her chest, waiting for an apology. She, at the very least, owed me one. She’d owed me one for years.

  “I need to explain why your father and I feel that you marrying Spencer was irresponsible. Spencer isn’t who you think he is. He is hiding some things about his life in Europe and I think, as you are now his wife, it is fair that you know.”

  “I don’t understand, I know everything I need to know. I know everything about him,” I argued, wondering what she was getting up to.

  With no words, she slid the manila folder across the desk towards me. I looked the envelope over, finding myself nervous to see what was inside. Glancing up from the folder, my eyes met those of the woman who birthed me. I wouldn’t say she raised me, Lucinda did most of the raising while my mom worked.

  “Megan, open it,” she instructed.

  I swallowed, but I knew he couldn’t be that bad. Spencer had told me about his life in Europe and even the bad parts about his ex and how things went sour, prompting his move back to the States.

  My fingers trembled as I picked up the folder and opened the flap. I was staring down at court records, most of the information was blacked out. The other unusual thing about them was that they weren’t American, they had come from the government of Malta.

  Defendant: Spencer Grant

  Charge: Forced Rape, Statutory & Coerced rape

  Tears welled up in my eyes, this wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Spencer was not that guy. My husband was not a rapist, that was impossible. The man who held my heart and the man I’d given my innocence to, a rapist?

  My eyes scanned the bits of the document that were not blacked out. So much of the information wasn’t there and I ached to know all of it.

  “Why is the information blacked out?” I asked at once, flipping through the many pages.

  “Getting international documents can be difficult and, as the victim was a minor at the time of the crime, it is blacked out to protect her identity,” my mom expertly explained as I scanned the document, trying to find nuggets of information to prove this to me.

  Then I saw her name, Chloe, last name blacked out. I choked on a sob that escaped.

  “I’m so sorry Megan, I am,” mom whispered as she’d already stood from her seat and was behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “He was charged, but his parents were able to hire the best lawyers over there and had the case dismissed. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I know you have said that I never protected you when Chase tried to rape you. I did what I knew how to, to me, that was protecting you. And now, you and Spencer-- I had to do something. I’m so sorry.”

  I turned to her and let her pull me into her arms as I cried. There was a pit in my stomach. This man who I’d given my everything to, the man whose last name I now carried. Spencer, my husband, he was the worst kind of human, a rapist.

  “Heather is my best friend, she and Steve are great people. Their only flaw, they are shit at raising decent children,” Mom said as she rubbed my back.

  “I need to talk to Spencer,” I insisted as I pushed myself standing.

  “Megan--”

  “I need to. I have to.” Those were my final words as I tore from her office and down the hall.

  I didn’t need to knock as I approached his office. I went straight inside. Spencer was sitting at his desk, going over some depositions. I could barely look at him as he looked up at me, a nervous smile on his face. I inhaled before I stepped in, closing the door behind me.

  “Hey Peaches, how as your lunch?” he asked casually. I didn’t answer, but stepped towards his desk. “Peaches, you okay?”

  “No, I’m not. Spencer, please tell me the truth,” I said to him, trying to not fall into the shattered mess I was hiding behind my hard exterior.

  “The truth about what?” he seemed confused.

  “Were you charged with rape in Malta? Did you rape Chloe and return to Atlanta after you got out of the charges?” I asked him, his eyes going wide.

  “Fuck,” he hissed. “Did you talk to Chase?”

  “Chase? What does he have to do with any of this? Spencer, tell me the truth. Just tell me,” I begged him to know. I needed to know how much I’d fucked up my life, all behind a school girl crush.

  Spencer stood from his desk and took a step towards me, I took two steps back. Sadness washed over his face and his sapphire eyes dimmed in remorse.

  “Megan,” he started.

  “Just tell me!” I screamed.

  “Okay, okay. I was charged with rape in Malta, but--”

  “That’s all I needed to know,” I whimpered, feeling every single bit of my heart shatter inside me. He’d betrayed me. “You know my life, you know what your brother did, and still you didn’t tell me. You let me fall in love with you, you let me fucking marry you!”

  “Peaches, please calm down,” he said, keeping his own.

  “Don’t fucking call me that! I’m not your precious Peaches. I’m Megan, your soon to be ex-wife,” I shot as I turned to the door. His hand was faster though, as he grabbed my shoulder and I shoved it away as I pulled open the door. “Don’t touch me, rapist!”

  “Megan, I’m not!”

  “You are, you’re a rapist!”

  By this time, everyone in the hall had paused and a few people were poking their heads out of offices and conference rooms to see what the commotion was about.

  “Spencer, Megan,” Heather’s voice came as I spotted my mom at the door of her office, her friend turning in her direction trying to figure out what was going on.

  “Please, we can talk about this in private. There is more to the story than you know,” Spencer tried to plead as he took
my hand in his. I yanked it away.

  “I said, don’t touch me, rapist!”

  “Megan,” my mom called my name and motioned me towards her.

  I started in her direction before I turned around and faced a broken Spencer.

  “Mom was right, Heather and Steve are great people, but raise shitty kids,” I shot my insult before I was in my mom’s arms. She held me close as I sobbed onto her chest like a lost child. “I want to go.”

  “Let’s take you home,” Mom whispered as she soothed me.

  As we passed Spencer, his hand came out towards me, but my mom smacked it away.

  “Touch my daughter and I will end you, Spencer Grant,” she growled, her inner Mama Bear coming out in full force.

  The picture I saw for my life had suddenly disappeared. I was Mrs. Megan Grant, the wife of a rapist. I was a disappointment, the biggest one.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Spencer

  “Rapist. Rapist. RAPIST.”

  Her words echoed through my head over and over, on constant repeat. When mom and dad tried talking to me, all I could hear was my sweet, tortured Megan’s words, taunting me. It wasn’t fair, and I was pissed. She hadn’t even given me a second to explain. Hadn’t even given me the decency to tell her what had happened. She believed the minimal findings from a dismissed case and her mother, over me. Not only did that make me angry, it also punched a hole through my heart.

  The drive home, I found myself filled with dread and an overwhelming feeling of hurt. I knew Megan was analytical, only truly believing what she could see right in front of her, but her lack of trust in me shattered my entire world. Megan was my life, and without her in it, I wouldn’t be able to survive. I had to prove to her that firstly, I wasn’t a rapist, and secondly, I hadn’t kept it from her maliciously. Both were going to be difficult if her mother’s claws had sunk too deep into her.