And I couldn’t even feel upset over the fact that she judged me, because my behavior didn’t do anything to dissuade her from the first impression I gave.
As we sat silently for a few minutes, I thought about the way I’d treated her over the past few days.
The guilt that hit me was so intense I felt nauseated.
Mackenna seemed so strong and independent, but she was also skittish at times. Like an insensitive prick, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that she was closed off because of something she’d been through. That maybe she wasn’t unfriendly—she was scared.
I even made fun of her for not dating.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her hair.
“What for?” she asked, and her warm breath tickled my neck. “It’s not your fault my ex is a psycho.”
“For everything. God, I’m such a shitbag. You’ve obviously been through some serious stuff and I’ve been a complete dick.”
“It’s okay,” she responded automatically.
“No, it’s not,” I said adamantly, shaking my head. “And I like it that you knit and sew. It’s cute.”
She sighed. “I haven’t exactly made things easy for you, Jimmy. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can take a joke.”
“Speaking of jokes, why did the fisherman sail the ocean?”
She paused to think. “I don’t know, why?”
“For the halibut.”
Mackenna let out a snort. That snort turned into a laugh.
Clutching my shirt, she buried her face in my shoulder while she giggled uncontrollably. The sound was infectious. Right there on her couch we lost our shit together, laughing over something that wasn’t even very funny in the first place.
Once she got herself under control she lifted her head, and the smile she wore reached her eyes. “That was a terrible joke.”
“I know.” I smiled, fighting the sudden urge to kiss her. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”
She just shrugged, her movement restricted by my arms that were still around her.
“Well, first, you should report this letter to the police. If he just got out he’s probably on probation, and this needs to be on record in case…” I trailed off, not wanting to voice my concern.
Her body trembled as she finished the sentence. “In case he comes back.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “And after that, you’re going to have some fun for once. Grandma’s got a hot tub.” I waggled my eyebrows at her. Then my face got serious. “And maybe you can tell me about what happened?”
“It’s such a long story.” Sighing, she looked away.
“I’ve got time. And I need to know if he’s going to be a problem.”
Glancing back my way, she scoffed. “Why? What are you going to do about it?”
“Anything I have to,” I said, the need to protect her overwhelming.
I was afraid she was going to argue with me, so I was surprised when she didn’t protest.
Obviously she found some comfort in my presence, or else she wouldn’t be sitting on my lap. Mackenna’s fingers absentmindedly played with a rogue string around my cut-off sleeve as she thought it over.
When she finally spoke, her voice came out a little happier. Playful even. “I might need a little liquid courage first, but all I have is half a bottle of Boone’s Farm.”
Snickering, I hugged her tighter. “Now that I can help with.”
The sun had fully set and the stars were popping up in the darkening sky. Fireflies lit up the yard. The sound of cicadas filled the air.
It was the perfect summer evening.
Or, at least, it would’ve been if I wasn’t scared for my life.
The warm water felt soothing as I sank down into the hot tub, taking the seat across from Jimmy. The motion detector light on the side of the garage turned on, bathing the backyard in a calming yellow glow.
I hadn’t gone swimming in ages. The floral-print one-piece swimsuit I found at the bottom of one of my unpacked boxes still had the tags on when I dug it out. Tugging at the halter straps, I tried to relax but it wasn’t easy.
Tension and fear remained at the forefront of my mind.
There wasn’t much the police could do since there was no way for me to prove the note was from Jaxon. Basically, they said they would look into it. They could question him, but he could deny it. If I really wanted to take it a step further, I could apply for a restraining order.
All of it sounded like one big headache.
Water splashed as Jimmy stood up and leaned over the side of the hot tub. I admired the way the wet black swim trunks molded to his ass. When he turned back toward me, he had both arms behind his back.
“Pick a hand.” Grinning, he hopped up and down a little, causing rivulets of water to run down his chest. One of the drops disappeared into his belly button, and I imagined myself licking him there. My gaze drifted down, following the dark trail of hair into the waistband of his shorts.
My eyes darted up to his, and I wondered if he caught me checking him out. From the smirk on his face, I concluded the answer to that was yes.
“Come on, pick one,” he insisted, and I pointed to the right side. He revealed an empty hand. “You’re not very good at this game.”
With a sigh I shrugged, and Jimmy showed me his left, which held a stainless-steel flask. He passed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, screwing off the cap and bringing it to my nose.
“Liquid courage.”
My face scrunched up at the smell of the whiskey, but I tipped it back anyway. Coughing because of the way it burned on the way down, I wiped at my mouth and handed it back to him.
He gave me an expectant look as he took a swig. I knew what he wanted to talk about, but I wasn’t ready yet.
Taking the flask back, I did two shots in a row. Jimmy raised his eyebrows in surprise, but didn’t say anything as he waited for me to spill my history.
“Where did you get alcohol?” I asked, delaying the inevitable conversation. “You’re not old enough.”
“My grandma keeps a bottle of Jack on hand for ‘medicinal purposes’,” he said, putting air-quotes around the words.
I giggled, feeling warm from the effects of the alcohol already. I’d always been a light-weight, and I hadn’t eaten much for dinner. My appetite was gone after getting that note.
The anxiety that consumed me earlier returned, and Jimmy must have been able to see it on my face. With his eyes on the house, he started humming ‘John Deere Green’ by Joe Diffie.
Effectively distracted, I let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. He went all the way through the chorus, singing a word here and there.
“Not bad, James Peabody,” I teased, and he scowled at the name. “You can actually carry a tune.”
“So can you.”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “And how do you know that?”
He took a sip. “I heard you the other day. Your window doesn’t do much to muffle sound.”
“Oh,” I said awkwardly. “Guess it’s time to have my windows replaced.”
Jimmy’s eyes met mine. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Thanks.” I played with some of the bubbles on the surface of the water. “But for the record, I don’t sing in front of people anymore unless it’s for songwriting purposes.”
“Not even your friends?”
“I don’t really have any.”
Giving me a look, Jimmy raised his hand and pointed at himself.
I laughed. “Well, if we’re going to be friends, I feel like I need to come clean about something.”
“What’s that?”
“I lied about ‘Barbie Girl’,” I confessed. “While that song does have an appropriate time and place, it wouldn’t be my first pick if I had to choose a forever-song.”
“You don’t say,” he responded sarcastically. “So, what is it then?”
“‘Crash’ by Dave Matthews Band,” I told h
im. “It brings back good memories because it was the first song I taught myself on the guitar.”
“How old were you when you learned to play?” he asked.
“Twelve.”
He grinned. “That’s awesome. It’s great that you found your calling so young.”
“So, what are your talents?” I asked, switching the conversation back to him.
A flicker of insecurity crossed his face, and he looked down at the water. “Still trying to figure that out. Apparently, being able to do a 55-second keg stand doesn’t count for much. I guess I don’t have a lot going for me right now.”
I frowned at his self-deprecating comments. “I bet that’s not true. And by the way, ‘Dream On’ is an excellent song choice.”
“Yeah?” He smiled.
“Yeah.” I smiled back.
“So,” he started, his usual cockiness returning. “Are there any more requirements for our friendship?”
“Yes, actually. You have to tell me about your back tattoo.”
Smirking, he stood up in the water and angled his back toward the light. The angel wings spanned his entire upper back. As I looked closer, I was finally able to read the words woven into the intricate feathers.
I raised my hand, wanting to trace the lines.
“You can touch it,” he said as if he could sense my fingers hovering over his skin.
I gave in to the desire and lightly trailed my fingers over the left side. The seven deadly sins.
Pride.
Greed.
Lust.
Envy.
Gluttony.
Wrath.
Sloth.
And on the right side were the seven virtues.
Humility.
Charity.
Chastity.
Kindness.
Temperance.
Patience.
Diligence.
When my fingers were done with their thorough inspection, I stepped away and sat down into the water.
“Why?” I gestured toward him, referring to the tattoo.
He settled back into his spot across from me. “To remind myself that even though people have faults, there’s a flipside. Redemption is obtainable for anyone who wants it.”
“Wow,” I said, impressed. “That’s really beautiful.”
The conversation stalled. I took the flask from Jimmy and managed to swallow a huge gulp. When I gave it back, he drained the rest and tossed the container onto the grass. I was momentarily disappointed that the alcohol was gone, but then he bent over the side again and came back with two beers.
“I think I owe you an apology,” I admitted as he handed me one of the bottles. “I haven’t been myself with you. After the way I’ve acted, you must think I have, like, zero sense of humor.”
“Sometimes I’m not very funny.” His body bobbed up and down in the water, and his nipple piercings peeked out.
Refusing to be distracted, I continued. “I knew you were just teasing, but I didn’t want to like it.”
“But you did like it?”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“And that’s a bad thing because…?”
“Because you’re hot,” I blurted out.
He laughed. “Is that a problem?”
“Yeah,” I said, the buzz helping me to be more straightforward. “It’s a big problem.”
“I like it when you’re honest.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Because I tell you you’re hot?”
“Well, yeah,” he smirked cockily. “But also because I want to know you. Here’s the deal.” He sat up straighter, squaring his muscular shoulders. “Let’s have a give-me-your-shit conversation.”
“What the hell is that?”
“That’s where we tell each other our secrets—the things we’re afraid to say. No judgment, just honesty. Lay it all out there.”
“All of it?”
“As much as you’re willing to say. I’ll even go first.”
“Okay…” I agreed reluctantly.
“Remember how I said I didn’t do well at school? Well, I went to college with a plan and when things didn’t go the way I thought they should, I kinda lost my shit. After my high school girlfriend broke up with me, I fell into some bad habits.”
I took a second to process his confession. “So you were heartbroken?”
“Yes and no. I’m not sure how deep my feelings for her really went, but being dumped sucked,” he said. “My way of dealing with it was to party. I drank a lot. Slept around a little. Neither fixed anything.”
“By slept around, you mean…?”
“A few casual hook-ups. It wasn’t hard to find girls who were just looking for a good time.” Biting his lip, he seemed to be holding back.
“Come on, Jimmy. All of it,” I reminded him.
Blowing out a breath, he raked a wet hand through his hair. The dampness caused it to stick up in certain places, and I liked the way it looked out of place.
“Guys are supposed to like that sort of thing, you know? It was easy. No feelings involved. But in the morning, I always just ended up feeling sort of empty. And that loneliness made me want to fill the void with more partying, more girls. It was a destructive cycle. And that’s how I failed my freshman year of college,” he finished with a shrug.
I was taken aback by his honesty. “Well, hey, at least you’re owning it and not making excuses for yourself.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of looking at it. I’m trying to turn things around, get my priorities straight.” Playfully splashing water at me, he said, “Now it’s your turn.”
Taking a deep breath, I tried to think of where to start. The truth was, my story didn’t begin with Jaxon.
“When I was younger, I was the chubby kid with glasses and bad hair. I didn’t have a lot of friends. I wasn’t athletic and I wasn’t super smart, so I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere,” I explained. “The summer before my junior year I dropped fifteen pounds and grew a couple inches. Mom said I was a late bloomer. I got contacts and new clothes. I changed so much that some people thought I was a new kid when school started back up. I was shy, naïve, and completely inexperienced when it came to boys. I was the perfect target for someone like Jaxon. He was intense, obsessive, predatory. I just didn’t know enough at the time to be able to recognize how dangerous he was.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen. He was the first person to ever show interest in dating me, and I jumped at the chance. I just wanted a boyfriend.” I huffed out a humorless laugh at how pathetic that sounded. “He was nice for the first few weeks, then his true colors came through. He was abusive in pretty much every way. Physically, emotionally, sexually.”
The silence that stretched between us was beyond uncomfortable, and I wondered if I’d said too much.
“Did he rape you?” Jimmy’s voice came out quiet and raspy, like he was afraid to know the answer.
I stared at the bright green house as I thought about how the sexual abuse started right away. All the times Jaxon wouldn’t listen when I said no. How angry he would get, and how that anger turned into physical force.
“I didn’t see it like that at the time… I mean, he was my boyfriend, you know? We went on dates and stuff. I finally had someone to take me to the homecoming dance,” I said, recalling how exciting it was at first. “And after he pushed me into doing things I wasn’t ready for, he’d just tell me he couldn’t help himself. That he loved me too much to stop.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jimmy growled. “That’s not love.”
“I know that now.” Familiar shame washed over me. “And I think part of me knew it then, too. But I didn’t tell anyone. I was too ashamed, and he banked on that. I ended up shutting out my family and friends until he was the only person I had left.”
“So what happened the night he went to jail? I could look it up, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Long story short? He broke into my house with the plan to kill me
, then himself,” I stated, matter-of-factly. “I shot him. He didn’t plan on me defending myself. The trial was pretty cut and dried. The voicemails, the texts, and the 9-1-1 call made his intentions clear.” I shuddered at reliving the details. “Plus, he was armed with a baseball bat and his stepfather’s hunting knife.”
“Motherfucker,” Jimmy cursed through gritted teeth.
“And to make matters worse, when shit hit the fan it was like the whole town turned against me,” I added.
“Who turned against you?” he asked, sounding angry on my behalf.
“Basically the entire school. I guess it’s an exaggeration to say the whole town, but when you’re in high school it feels that way. The end of my senior year was me just trying to lay low and keep my head down until graduation.”
I went on to tell him about the harassment, egging, and vandalism on my locker. I didn’t leave any details out. He wanted the truth and I gave it to him. When I was done, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I can’t believe you went through that alone.”
I huffed. “I can’t believe I was such a doormat.”
“Hey.” His voice was firm, yet gentle at the same time. “You were sixteen, Mack. There’s a difference between being young and being a doormat. He took advantage of you. You are not a doormat.”
“Not anymore,” I agreed. “And I’m not a damsel in distress either. I shot him once and I’d do it again.”
“Have you been able to date since then?” he asked, shifting from one uncomfortable subject to another.
When I thought about the one relationship I had a couple years ago—if you could even call it a relationship—I felt embarrassment mixed with a little regret. “I dated a guy in Nashville. He was nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. Normal and nice.”
“And did you…uh…” Jimmy didn’t have to finish the sentence for me to know what he was asking.
I gave a sharp nod. “I tried. The sex was…okay. It only happened a few times before we both decided we were better off as friends.”
“So, he was nice and the sex was okay.”
Grimacing, I took another drink. “I tried so hard to be normal because I just wanted to feel something. But I had a bit of an issue…”
“What issue?” Jimmy tipped his bottle back, like maybe he needed some liquid courage, too.
The Good Guys Box Set: TRUCKER, DANCER, DROPOUT, and A Trucker Wedding Page 57
