Blurring Lines (8 page)

Mackenzie

February 6
th
, 2006

“Who owns the motorcycle in our driveway?”

This was the first time I had spoken since my father picked me up from the hospital.

“That’s Cade’s bike, sweetheart,” Dad replied in a husky tone of voice.

I watched from the passenger seat as my father’s knuckles whitened and tightened on the steering wheel. I felt something stir inside of me. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Excitement …

“Cade’s here?” My voice sounded dead and flat, but for the first time in over three years I felt elevated and excited. “He knows I’m back?”

Dad pulled his very mundane Rover into the driveway and killed the engine.

“Mickey, sweetheart, there are a few things I haven’t told you,” he whispered, staring straight ahead at our house. I wondered if he stared at the house because he was nervous or because he couldn’t bear to look at me anymore.
I was a whore after all.

But Dad had called me Mickey – his pet name for me when I was a child.

“Cade lives with us now,” Dad finally said, and his tone was apologetic. “Sharon and I … well, we got married the year before last, sweetheart.”

“Congratulations on your marriage,” I offered, unfastening my seatbelt and climbing out of the car. I was sure my father was waiting for me to throw a fit. I was sure that was what I was supposed to be doing, but I didn’t – because I couldn’t. I didn’t care enough to feel anything.

I just wanted to see Cade.

That’s all I wanted.

The urge to see him was clawing at my insides.

My Dad walked up the lawn beside me and I knew he was contemplating whether or not he should put his arm around me.

He shouldn’t and thankfully he didn’t.

I wasn’t a little girl that he needed to protect. I had seen about all that could shock a human being and besides, he couldn’t go back in time and protect the girl I was back then. Life moved forward, there were no second chances. Just bitter regrets that left sour tastes.

Besides, I wasn’t sure of how to talk to my father anymore. I wasn’t his daughter – not the one he remembered at least. I was
Master’s whore
and no amount of counseling or industrial soap could change that.

The front door swung inwards and a pair of blue eyes greeted me. “Mackenzie,” Cade’s mother wept before lurching towards me.

I immediately stepped back and out of her reach. I wasn’t afraid of her touch. I just didn’t feel like being touched and now I had a choice –
free will
.

Something I hadn’t had in a very long time.

“Hello, Sharon,” I rasped. My voice sounded raw and torn, and I could tell that Sharon noticed the change because her eyebrows furrowed in concern. I could also tell that she was trying
not
to think of how I had ruined my vocal chords. “Where’s Cade?”

“Are you hungry?” she asked brightly, ignoring my question. “Thirsty?”

“I could use a shower,” I replied quietly.

I didn’t need food or company, and I didn’t need a pity party.

I just needed the water on my skin.

And Cade.

Water was the one thing I had craved since the police found me. I couldn’t get enough of the water cleansing me. I could stand under a showerhead all day, every day, for the rest of my life and not get enough.

“Well, head on up, Mickey,” my father said. “Take as long as you want – there’s plenty of hot water in the tank.”

I nodded once before turning towards the staircase and making my way upstairs. Reaching the bathroom, I felt relief when I realized it was in the same place it had always been. I opened the door and let myself inside.

Immediately I began to strip off my clothes. It still felt strange to wear so many layers, having spent three years practically naked. Standing naked in the bathroom, I took a glance in the mirror and looked at what all the fuss had been about.

I was not a tall person, 5’5” barefoot, but apparently I had sex appeal.

That was what Master used to tell me.

“Pretty sunshine …”

My hair was blonde and long, curling passed my breasts and bellybutton. I had green eyes and pink swollen lips. My breasts were firm and ripe, and my legs were long and lean.

I was marked with a tattoo – their mark. It distinguished me from all the others. It was a barcode, showing my value. I was worth a lot apparently.

The freckles on my nose were a permanent reminder of the blistering heat in the nest.

The sand beneath my fingernails …

The blood between my legs …

Shaking off those memories, I reached one hand into the shower and switched it on.

It took a few minutes to heat up – just as I remembered.

When the water was scalding – as hot as my body could possibly bear – only then did I get in.

Tilting my head back, I allowed the water to cascade down my body and for the first time since I left the hospital I felt steadier. It was a little fucked-up how much water could affect me, but I didn’t think too much about it. I didn’t think too much about anything anymore.

That was both my downfall and my saving grace.

The bathroom door opened and slammed shut loudly.

“Fuck,” a male voice roared, and I froze for a moment before automatically dropping to my knees, placing my hands palms out against the shower wall, and bowing my head.

No one came for me, and then I remembered: I wasn’t there anymore.

Raising my chin, I turned my head to one side and my breath caught in my throat.

Cade.

He was standing in front of the door, resting his forehead against the frame. His head was bowed and his shoulders were slumped.

I knelt, mesmerized, staring at the man in the bathroom. Three years had passed since I saw Cade and those three years had made drastic changes to his body. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. A beautiful man …

Broken or not, I could see that he was beautiful.

Cade let out a heavy sigh and I watched through hooded eyes as he removed his shirt, revealing his hard, flat stomach. I silently studied the five words Cade had tattooed on the right side of his ribcage in black ink.

“Nár lagaí Dia do lámh.”

The smell of him flooded my senses.
Fresh air, the forest, deodorant, man, soap …
My breath caught in my throat.

When he turned around, he froze.

His eyes were locked on my face.

He looked like he had just seen a ghost.

I felt like I’d seen an angel.

“Holy shit, Kenz,” he managed to croak out and his voice caused something inside of me to flutter and clench. His voice was deeper than I remembered. Huskier too. He sounded like a man now. “It’s really you.” He staggered towards me before dropping to his knees. “You’re back.”

Something inside of my body cracked open at the sight of Cade – something warm and ticklish and it spread through my stomach.

Pulling the shower curtain back the rest of the way, I knelt facing the boy whose face and heart had kept me alive for the past few years.

“Cade.” I tested his name on my lips. It felt good. Cade’s blue eyes seared me. “Cade.”

He looked so hard at me I was sure he could see inside of my head – inside of my rotten soul.

“I’m so sorry, Kenzie,” he said and his voice was a broken whisper. “What happened to you—” he paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have protected you. I should have saved you – stopped those guys.”

“We were children, Cade,” I croaked out, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “You couldn’t fight off ten fully-grown men.” Had he blamed himself all these years? He had to know it wasn’t his fault …

Shaking his head furiously, Cade staggered into the shower before pulling me into his arms. “Three-and-a-half years, Kenzie,” Cade groaned. “They took you away from me for three-and-a-half goddamn years.”

At first I stiffened, but my body slowly relaxed and when I rested my cheek against the warm skin of his bare chest, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut.

“I missed you,” I whispered, allowing myself to feel this: enjoy being in his arms again.

“I thought about you every damn day,” he told me, before dropping a kiss to my drenched hair. “Not a day went by when I didn’t pray for you – or dream about you.”

Water was cascading down on both of us and I felt better than I had in years. “I missed you so bad, Cade,” I choked out as tears filled my eyes. “So bad … I needed you …”

Suddenly Cade jerked away from me, staggering backwards and out of the shower. His eyes were wide as if he had just figured something out. “Jesus, what the hell am I doing – you’re naked!”

So that was what he had just figured out.

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed,” I told him, climbing to my feet. “A thousand others have seen this …”

Cade was afraid of scaring me, but the only thing that I was frightened of was never feeling Cade’s touch again.

“
What the hell
is that
?” Cade pointed at my bare hipbone. “Kenzie.” His tone was gruff, angry even, as he stepped closer. He trailed his fingertips over my hipbone. “How did you get this?”

“That’s my mark,” I explained, not taking my eyes off his face. For some reason, he looked upset and, for an even sicker reason, I felt happy because of this.

“My barcode.”

His face paled. “Your barcode?”

“Yes. In the nest our masters assigned each of us with a mark. We all had an individual marks. It proved our value – and our ownership.”

Cade groaned and rubbed his face with his hand as if in pain.

In two long strides he was back in the shower and pulling me into his arms. It was like he couldn’t decide what to do with me.

“What did those men do to you,” he whispered.

They taught me how to fuck, Cade. And they taught me to say yes to anything physical no matter how degrading or emotionally devastating it was to me.
“Whatever they wanted to do.”

Cade held my face between his hands and stared into my eyes. “Did they …” His breath hitched and he groaned and pressed a kiss to my forehead before closing his eyes and resting his head against mine. “Did those men rape you, Kenzie?”

“Yes.”
But I learned how to separate my mind from my body and after a while I began to cope with it – enjoy it even.
“All of them and more.”
And when those men fucked me, I used to pretend it was you.
“I’m sorry, Cade.”

“What are you sorry for?” Cade shook his head and stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.

What could I say? I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t tell him that there were moments when I imagined it was him inside of me and enjoyed it. Cade would hate me – think I was dirty.

I am dirty …

I clenched my eyes shut to hold in the tears.

“None of this was your fault.” Cade’s voice was soft. His hands were gentle and his touch was tender. “You were abused, Mackenzie – violated.” He kissed my forehead again, and this time I shivered with pleasure. “Baby girl, those men are the one’s who should be sorry. Not you. Never you.”

“I’m a whore.” I chanted the word over and over as the tears poured down my cheeks. “I’m a whore.” I dropped to my knees, feeling weary and distraught. “I’m a whore.”

Cade dropped to his knees in front of me. “
You
are an angel,” he corrected me, kissing away my tears.

“I let them do it, Cade,” I sobbed. I felt like a dam inside of my body had burst open. I wanted to confide in Cade. I’d been waiting for him … “I didn’t fight back. I didn’t say no. I did everything I was told to do.”

“You
survived
, Mackenzie,” he coaxed. “That’s the only thing you did. You didn’t choose any of the things that happened to you. What you chose to do was
live
, Mackenzie. To survive and I’m so damn thankful to you for that.”

“The pills …”

“The pills saved your life,” he replied quickly. “Without those pills, you would’ve ended up like the others girls. You know this.”

“Did you ever regret it?” I asked, folding my body into his.

He held me tight and I felt safe. “Did I ever regret what?” he kisses my hair.

“Me.” I lowered my face. “The kiss.”

Cade stiffened and I remained motionless in his arms. “No,” he finally said. “I have never regretted a second I’ve spent with you, Kenz, but there’s something you need to know …”

“Mackenzie, sweetheart, are you alright?” The bathroom door swung inwards. “You’ve been in here an awfully long time – oh, my God!”

Sharon stood in the middle of the bathroom with a horrified expression etched on her face. “What are you doing, Cade?” She looked at my face for a brief moment before turning her attention to her son. “Half-naked and sharing a shower.”