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The Jaded: Reclaim Me Part 22

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Mia Her scent...

The trek back to Mac's house is slow, and I couldn't be more grateful. I've missed having his arms wrapped around me while riding on a horse. When we were younger, I would sometimes opt out of riding Marabelle just so I could feel his arms around me while we rode his horse.

I have my hands lying on his thighs that are on either side of mine and my head leaning back on his shoulder. I'm tiny, so with Mac's arms surrounding me holding onto the reins, I feel like I'm wrapped in a warm but firm Mac blanket.

"How's T taking his mother running off?" I ask Mac to break the silence.

"I'm not sure yet. He has something going on that he's not telling me. For some reason, he's closed himself off from me, and I don't know why."



I turn my head to the side and give his jaw a kiss. "Just give him time. Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll come to you when he needs to."

"I hope so," he says quietly, with worry still in his voice.

I give his leg a squeeze in comfort. In return, Mac kisses the back of my neck, and I swear my body quivers at the touch. This man knows just what to do to get my body primed and ready, and that was just with a kiss. I just had him not even ten minutes ago, and I'm ready again. I feel moisture seeping between my legs.

Mac must sense my reaction, because he runs his nose up my neck and nips at my ear, before whispering, "Ready for me again already, Pix?"

"I'm always ready for you, Sheriff." I whimper out. "Even when I thought I hated you, my body didn't."

"Mmmhmm... because it knew you were still mine. No matter what, Pix, you'll always be mine." He punctuates his words by sucking the skin at the back of my neck, knowing that it will leave his mark.

I s.h.i.+ver at his words, wanting them to be true so much. I want to belong to Mac, just as I want him to belong to me. It's still scary to think something might happen to take it away from me.

I lean my head to the side and reach one hand back and tunnel my fingers through his hair. Mac transfers the reins to one hand and wraps his arm around me, pulling me back further against him. I feel his hard c.o.c.k against my backside, and I'm tempted to ask him to stop the horse and take me again. Knowing he needs to get back to T is the only thing that stops me.

All too soon, the house comes into view. I hear Mac mutter, "d.a.m.n."

I smile to myself, knowing that he wants me as much as I want him.

I release my grip I have on his hair and sit up straighter. Mac and I both dismount right outside the barn doors. We walk in together, and I help him take the saddles off the horses and rub them down.

After the horses are settled in the pasture, we grab our picnic items and my jar of sand and sh.e.l.ls and walk, hand in hand to the house. I still have a giddy feeling at the thought of Mac getting me the sand and sh.e.l.ls. Even though I was so hateful to him for all those years, he still thought of me when he was at the beach.

"Can you stay for dinner, or do you work tonight?" Mac asks as we walk up the steps.

"I do, but I have the later s.h.i.+ft tonight. I can stay for a little while."

"Good. How does beef stroganoff sound?"

"It sounds wonderful," I tell him.

When we make it to the door, I'm suddenly shoved to the side and pushed up against the house. Mac is right there plastered against me. He only looks into my eyes a second before his mouth slams down on mine. I tip my head back, go up on my tippy toes, and throw my arms around him.

Mac sucks my tongue into his mouth and twirls it with his own. I bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan. I lift my leg and wrap it around his hip, bringing my p.u.s.s.y flush against his steel hard c.o.c.k.

The kiss doesn't last long, but long enough to have us out of breath when we pull away.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says with a goofy grin. "I know once we go inside, I can't touch you like I want to. I needed something to tie me over."

I giggle like a d.a.m.n school girl at his playful behavior, which is something I haven't done in a long time. Mac is causing me to do a lot of things I've never done before or haven't done in a while. I feel freer to be the old me since I've found out the truth.

"You can shove me up against the wall anytime you like, Sheriff, just make sure you can follow through with it later," I taunt him with a flirty smile before slipping out from him and the wall. He smacks my a.s.s as I walk by him, making me squeal. Again, something I don't normally do.

We walk into a side door that leads to a mudroom. It holds the washer and dryer, a utility sink, and other normal things you might see in one. Holding my hand, he leads me through the door that goes into the kitchen. When we walk in, Trent looks up from the table where he is sitting in front of a small laptop.

"Hey, T, everything go okay here?" Mac asks, letting go of my hand and setting our stuff down on the counter.

Trent briefly looks up to us before looking back down at the computer. "Yep, everything was great." From the tone of his voice, I can tell he didn't care for us going out together.

"Dinner's going to be a little early tonight. Mia's going to stay and eat with us before she goes to work,"

Trent doesn't respond to his dad's statement, and when I look at Mac, I can see Trent's att.i.tude is really starting to bother him.

"h.e.l.lo, Trent," I say, trying to defuse the tension in the air. I am bound and determined to get this kid to like me. I know I need to tread carefully, or I could make the situation worse.

"Hey," he says without looking up at me. I don't let his att.i.tude deter me. I glance over at Mac and see him propped up against the counter watching us. I take a seat next to Trent and lean over so I can see his computer screen.

"What are you playing?" I ask him.

He doesn't look too happy with me being nosy, but when he looks over to Mac, his expression changes slightly.

"Creativerse."

"I've heard of that one. Isn't it like Minecaft?"

"Yeah. Do you..." he trails off, and I can see him fighting with himself over something. I watch him, hoping he'll finish what he was going to say. Finally, he does. "Do you want to try it?"

"Sure, I'd love to. Will you teach me?" I ask and scoot my chair closer to him.

"Okay." Trent turns his laptop towards me a bit, and he starts talking me through how to play the game. His words are stilted and a little hard, but the more he talks, the less tense he gets.

I hear Mac working in the kitchen, and I glance up every so often to see him preparing dinner. A few times when I look at him, I catch him quietly watching us with a soft look on his face. Each time I give him a smile.

Several hours later, dinner is ready and Trent and I are laughing at some of the things we've created in the game. Trent hasn't totally loosened up towards me, but I think we've made progress. I get up from the table to help Mac finish with dinner by getting the plates and silverware.

"Are the plates in the same place?" I ask, stepping up beside him.

"Yes," he says and sneaks a peek over his shoulder at Trent. When he sees his eyes glued to the screen, he leans over and plants a quick kiss on my lips.

"I think that went well." I grab three plates down from the cabinet and silverware out of the drawer in front of me.

"It did. I haven't seen him laugh in weeks. Thank you."

His words break my heart. He loves Trent so much. I can only imagine how much it must hurt him to know his son is going through whatever he's going through and not be able to do anything to help.

"He'll be okay, Mac. Just give him s.p.a.ce. He's about the age to start hitting p.u.b.erty, so that may be a little of what's bothering him."

He looks doubtfully back at T. "Yeah, maybe that's it."

I take the plates and silverware and set them on the table.

"Hey, T, why don't you go put the laptop away and wash your hands? Dinner's almost ready," Mac says and puts down a plate of rolls on the table.

Trent gets up, closes his laptop, and carries it out of the kitchen. By the time he comes back, the table is set, and we all sit down to eat. I'm surprised at how good the food tastes. Mac must have picked up his mom's talent in the kitchen.

"This is really good," I say after I swallow my first bite of the beef stroganoff.

"It's another one of my mom's recipes."

"You've just become Mr. Betty Crocker, haven't you?" I tell him with a laughter in my voice to show I'm joking.

"Very funny. You know my mom's big into cooking. She made sure I knew how to care for myself before I left home."

I take another bite of the delicious food before asking. "What happened to your house that you bought?" He bought a small house on the edge of town six months before my eighteenth birthday. He didn't allow me at his house very often. He said that the temptation of having me alone was too great.

"I sold it when my parents moved and asked me to stay here. I had always loved this house and knew one day it would be mine. I just didn't think it would be quite so soon."

We talked for a bit longer about all the things Mac still wanted to do to the house. I'd ask Trent questions, trying to draw him into our conversation so he wouldn't feel left out. Our talk was easy and I could feel Trent open up more.

We finish eating, and Mac and I both get up to clean the table. T goes to his room to play more video games. I load the dishwasher while he wipes down the counters and puts away the leftovers. Our movements are in tandem with each other, and it feels like we've been doing this for years.

By the time we're done, it's time for me to leave, which I'm dreading because I don't want to leave...ever. I have a strong feeling that this is where I belong, with Mac and Trent. I know I'm not Trent's mother, but the one he has is doing a s.h.i.+tty job and I would love to make up where she lacks.

Mac wraps me in a hug once we get to my car, and I look up at him. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious. And thank you for taking me to ride the horses. I've really missed riding."

He tucks a short piece of my hair behind my ear. "Any time you want to go, just let me know."

I nod and reach up on my tippy toes to kiss him. It's short and sweet, yet so much more. I swear I could kiss this man like this all day and never get tired of it.

He grips my hips and forces me backwards, but rests his forehead against mine. "You need to go before I take you right here against your car."

I would definitely not be opposed to that, but we have to think of Trent. I definitely don't want to have anything to do with traumatizing him.

Disappointed and filled with s.e.xual frustration, I nod my head and step back from him. He opens my door, and I get inside. Mac bends down for another brief kiss, "Call me when you get home."

"Okay," I tell him. He closes my door, and I start my car and head home.

When I pull up to the house five minutes later, it's fully dark out. I could have sworn I left my porch light on when I left, but I may be mistaken. That or my d.a.m.n electricity went out again. One bad thing about living out in the sticks is the electric company taking forever to fix s.h.i.+t. It seems like every other day the d.a.m.n thing's down for whatever reason.

I climb the stairs and approach my door. I need to hurry and get ready for work, or I'm going to be late. I open the door to a pitch-black home. Using the tiny keychain light on my key ring, I navigate to my bedroom to change clothes. I grab what I need out of the closet, and walk to the bathroom. Right after I manage to change without breaking my neck, the lights flicker on and I breathe a sigh of relief, surprised it didn't take longer.

Now that the electricity is on, I can wash my face. After doing that, I walk out of my bathroom and stop dead in my tracks. A s.h.i.+ver of fear races up my spine a split second before pure rage takes over once I see the words painted on my wall.

'I had him first!!' Is scrawled across my wall in big, bold, red letters. She also plastered the entire wall full of pictures. Taking a step closer, I rip one of the pictures from the wall and nearly lose the contents of my stomach. It's of Tessa and Mac the night of my eighteenth birthday. Mac is sprawled out on the bed with a dazed expression on his face. Tessa is sitting on Mac and has her head thrown back with the look of ecstasy written all over her face. I look at a few more pictures and see there are several different ones, but most are copies of the others.

I let my gaze wander around the room, looking for anything else that's not right. My eyes stop on my dresser where a drawer is pulled open. I walk up to it and see that someone's paws have been inside. My panties, bra's, and lingerie are all in disarray and hanging over the sides.

Why in the f.u.c.k would she go through my panties?

I crumble the picture up and throw it on the floor. My head is starting to pound from the erratic beat of my heart. I'm so p.i.s.sed that I start to shake. I know that I should probably be scared; after all, she broke into my home and we still don't know who she's working with, but I just can't muster up the fear now.

I yank my phone out of my pocket and speed dial Mac. He answers on the second ring.

"Hey, baby, you make it home okay?" he asks by way of answering.

"Can you come over? Tessa left a surprise for me here," I tell him, barely holding onto my temper.

"f.u.c.k!" He snarls over the phone. I hear mumbling in the background, which is probably Mac talking to Trent. A minute later Mac says, "Are you okay? Is she still there?"

"Yes, I'm fine. She just left me a little reminder. And no, I don't think she's still here, but if she is she's in for a nice surprise herself." My voice drips with malice, and I grip the phone tight. I spin in a circle, once again looking at the pictures hanging on the wall. I want to get a hold of that b.i.t.c.h before Mac hauls her a.s.s off to jail.

"Okay, go to your room and lock the door. Don't open it for anyone, you hear me? Me and T are on our way."

I give off a bitter laugh, "Yeah, I won't be in my room. I'll be in the kitchen sitting with my pistol on the table." I move to my closet and use a key on my key ring and open the small safe I have at the top of the closet. I pull out my 9mm pistol and make sure it's loaded. When we were younger, Jaxon made sure me and Anna both knew how to shoot a gun. As soon as I was old enough I bought my own.

"Mia-" Mac starts, but I stop him.

"I'm not hiding from this b.i.t.c.h, Mac. She wants to bring it, then I'll be ready for her. I'm not the meek little girl I used to be," I tell him and mean every word. No way is she going to scare me in my own home. That b.i.t.c.h can suck it.

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Mia!" Mac yells in a harsh voice over the phone. "She could have anyone with her."

My blood cools a little at the worry I hear in Mac's voice. "I'll be okay, Mac. Just get here."

"f.u.c.k! I'll be there in just a few minutes. Just stay on the phone with me."

I nod, then remember he can't see me so I give him a verbal, "Okay."

I'm in the kitchen sitting at my table with the pistol in front of me, just like I said, when Mac says over the phone, "I'm here, Pix. Come let me in."

As soon as I open the door, I'm pulled into Mac's arms. "s.h.i.+t, Pix, you had me so d.a.m.n scared." He pulls back from me, and I see Trent step up beside him. Mac frames my face with his hands, and my gaze goes back to him. "T, go into the living room," he says without breaking eye contact with me. When Trent is in the living room, which Mac still has view of, he asks me quietly, "Tell me what happened."

"It's better that I show you."

He gives a curt nod and turns to close and lock the door. He tells Trent to stay in the living room while I show him the bedroom. When I walk him through the door, his body goes ridged.

"Son of a f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h!" he says and walks to the wall covered in pictures of him and Tessa together. I see his eyes moving across the wall, taking in the different angles of the shot. His hands ball into fists at his side, and I can see a visible tick in his jaw. When he reaches the end of the wall, he turns to me and there's weariness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mia."

I know my face still carries a hard expression, but I try to soften it when I walk up to Mac and place my hands on his chest. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do this."

His movements are jerky and unsure when he puts his hand over mine. "Because this is a huge f.u.c.king reminder of my f.u.c.k up. And, it's because of me that she's doing this s.h.i.+t."

"No, Mac," I tell him with a shake of my head. "This is because of Tessa and her sick and twisted obsession. This is all on her. Don't let her make you feel guilty for something she did."

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