Mace, p.12
Mace, page 12
Imogen took a deep breath. “I came to you when I was raped, right? Told you I had no idea who did it to me.” Her eyes darted to the side. “I lied. I knew who he was. I saw his face while he took my innocence away.” Imogen sobbed and closed her eyes. “I also watched the life leave his eyes when I killed him.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “And just like every time before, Mace was the only person there for me. I didn’t have another choice when I killed Kent. He told me he was going to kill me because he knew I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut.”
“Oh, Imogen,” Janet cried. “Oh, god.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, honey. I never imagined those things would happen to you when I left you with your mother. I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know that kind of evil would touch you.”
“No one did. Mace and I have kept that secret for fifteen years. It would have stayed that way, but someone found out.”
“No,” Janet gasped. “No, Imogen. Please don’t tell me you’re going to prison.”
Imogen shook her head and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “It might come to that if you can’t help me. After all the hate you threw at me, I’m still here because I need you. I need what you might have.”
“Anything,” Janet cried. “Just tell me what you need.”
Imogen swiped her tear-stained cheek and grabbed a tissue from the box on the table. “When you took me to the hospital when I first got here, they did a rape kit.”
“Yes,” Janet nodded. “I didn’t want to put you through that, but a part of me needed to know if you were telling the truth or if you were just trying to find a way to get away from your mother.”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t lying.”
Jesus. Janet really did have a lot of hate for Imogen’s mom if she hadn’t believed Imogen. “What happened to it? I know you didn’t turn it over to the police, so where did it go?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, well, I don’t remember. I know I kept it, but I hid it in all of my papers. I don’t even know if I still have it.” Janet chewed on her fingernail. “I could have gotten into a lot of trouble if the hospital ever found out I took it. When I saw the proof, I was going to report it, but Imogen was adamant that she didn’t want anyone to know. Told me it wouldn’t matter because it wouldn’t take it away.”
Of course, that would be the one-time Janet listened to Imogen.
“What papers did you hide it with?” I asked. “If we can’t find it, Imogen and I are going to be in a load of trouble.”
“You?” Janet asked. “It happened years ago. How are you going to get into trouble for it now?” she demanded.
I nodded. “Right now the police are only coming after me because they found evidence that puts me at the crime scene. I’m not going to deny that I was there, but we need proof that Kent raped Imogen, and she killed him in self-defense.”
“You were there when it happened?” Janet gasped.
“No, no,” Imogen moaned. “Mace found me after it happened. He cleaned up, and somehow one of his fingerprints was at the scene. The police are saying he’s the one who killed Kent.”
“Oh my goodness,” Janet moaned. “This is all a mess.”
“You are not wrong, Janet.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “You and Imogen have a whole lot of things you need to work through if she wants, but right now, we just need to get that rape kit from you.”
“I don’t know where it is,” she sighed. “I don’t remember throwing it away, but I did have a fire at my place before I moved here. A lot of the things I saved were burned up.”
“Oh god,” Imogen groaned. She flopped onto the couch beside me and buried her face in her hands. “We are screwed once again.”
“It’s all gone?” I asked.
“Well, no. The home has storage in the basement. What I couldn’t fit in here, they put in storage.” She looked at Imogen. “It could be down there.”
“Can we look? Tell whomever you need to that we can go down there?” I pleaded. As the days went by, the more real it became that I could go to prison. Janet was our last hope.
“Yes, yes,” she insisted. “You can search everything down there. I don’t know if you’ll be able to do it today, though. We can try, but if anything tomorrow morning you can get in there.” She stood gingerly and shuffled into the kitchen. “Let me call the gals up front and see what I can do.”
“Don’t tell them why we’re looking,” Imogen called. “We’re trying not to broadcast what happened to me.” She glanced at me and frowned. “At least not yet.”
“No, no, child. They are my things. I don’t need to give them a reason why I want to look at them.” She grabbed the phone and pushed a couple of buttons.
“Mace,” Imogen hissed.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I don’t know if she’s actually calling to help us or if she’s calling the cops on us.” Her eyes bugged out, and she tipped her head toward Janet. “I have never seen her cry before, let alone tell me she loved me.”
I squeezed her hand. “She’s going to help us, babe. It’s fucked up what she did in the past, but I really think she will try to help you now.”
“Thirty years later the woman decides to have a heart and not just think about herself,” Imogen grumbled.
“Well, I know she should have done that a long time ago, but I’m glad she’s finally seen the light and is doing it now.” I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s going to be okay, Imogen. I know I said I might go to prison, but I will do everything possible to make that not happen. I just got you back after fifteen years, and I damn sure ain’t letting you go again.”
Janet hung up the phone and turned to Imogen and me. “Well, not the best news. We can’t get in today because they don’t have keys to the storage units.”
“Dammit,” Imogen sighed.
“But the person who does have them will be in tomorrow. They said they will leave a note, and we should be able to go through everything tomorrow morning.”
I squeezed Imogen’s leg. This was good. We could wait one more day.
“I don’t know if this is a trap, and you just called the police on us.” Imogen eyed Janet warily.
Janet sagged. “I deserve that.”
Imogen shifted uncomfortably. “You can’t expect me to suddenly trust you when you’ve never really been there for me my whole life. Sure, you gave me a place to live and didn’t turn me away, but you didn’t give me a home. You gave me shelter, nothing more.”
Imogen had every right to feel the way she did. She had so little for most of her life.
It was good that Janet felt remorse for how she treated Imogen, but it didn’t remove the hurt and mistrust.
“I know there will never be a day you can trust me, Imogen, but I promise I did not just call the police. I want to help you and Mace, and I will do anything you need.” Janet leaned heavily on the kitchen table. “For as long as I have left to live, I promise to do everything to make up for the years of hurt I gave you.”
“I just want the rape kit,” Imogen grunted. “Nothing else.”
“Come back in the morning, and hopefully, you’ll find it,” Janet sighed.
I could tell the exchange with Imogen had worn out Janet. She seemed like a fighter, but her age was catching up with her.
“All right,” I called. I stood and held my hand out to Imogen. “We’ll be back in the morning.”
Imogen put her hand in mine, and I pulled her up from the couch.
“Staying in town?” Janet asked.
“Mace got us a house to stay in.” Imogen squeezed my hand.
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Janet straightened and walked us to the door. “Maybe try to have some fun tonight. I’ve heard the nurses talk about the restaurants downtown.”
“We’ll look into it,” I replied.
Imogen stuck to my side and nodded to Janet. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have a good night.” She closed the door behind us, and Imogen’s shoulders visibly sagged when the door clicked shut.
“Mace,” she whispered.
“Hold it together for thirty more seconds, babe.” A lot had happened in those fifteen minutes. Things I don’t think Imogen ever expected to hear.
Her hand squeezed mine tightly. I pulled her down the hallway, past the nurse's station, and out the front doors.
Imogen was hanging on by a thread.
We made it to my bike, and she crumbled in my arms.
“She loved me, Mace,” she sobbed. “She loved me, but my stupid mom destroyed that, too.”
“Shh, babe. Just let it out. Let it out, baby.”
Her tears soaked my shirt, and her sobs broke my heart.
How could someone have so much hate in their heart that they couldn’t look past everything to love Imogen?
Loving Imogen was the easiest thing I had ever done. It was so natural and pure.
“What did I do, Mace? What did I do for my mom to hate me?” Imogen swiped at her eyes and sniffled. “What did I do?” she demanded.
Imogen hadn’t done anything. Her mother was a selfish bitch who couldn’t look past her own needs.
“You didn’t do anything, babe.”
“Nothing I ever did was good enough for either of them, but I still tried. I tried to do everything I could to get one second of love from them, but I never got it.”
Fucking hell. I would have walked back into that nursing home and killed her if I didn’t need Janet’s help to find the papers we needed.
Imogen hadn’t done anything to deserve this pain, but yet she had it. She felt it every day.
Not anymore.
Today would be the last day Imogen would ever feel that she needed to be perfect to deserve love.
Her mom and grandma were the ones to break her, and I was going to be the one protecting her till my last breath.
Chapter Eighteen
Imogen
“Dinner?” I rubbed my eye and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s dinner time?”
Mace chuckled. “Yeah, babe. You took a little nap.”
I turned my head and saw it was dark outside. “Uh, little?”
The bed shifted, and Mace sat down. “It’s almost nine.”
“At night?” I gasped.
“It sure isn’t the morning, Imogen.”
I rolled onto my side and looked up at Mace. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” I demanded.
“Because you had a pretty stressful day, babe. You needed to rest after crying so much.” He held up a brown paper bag. “Now it’s time to eat since you are awake.”
“Mace,” I grumbled. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight since I slept so long.”
He took out what looked like two wrapped subs or burritos from the bag and set one in front of me. “You’ll sleep.”
I wasn’t too sure about that. “What did you get for dinner?”
“Sushi burritos. I figure you don’t get much sushi in Jackson.”
“That was a risky gamble ordering sushi.” I sat up and grabbed the burrito.
“I saw the grocery store sushi container in your garbage the other day. Not really a gamble at all.” He opened his burrito and took a huge bite.
“Well, that could have been Dorothy’s container.”
“Imogen,” he droned. “Did you wake up feisty?”
I had actually woken up refreshed. “Hungry.” It had been hours since I had eaten anything. Waking me up with food was a good idea.
I unwrapped the burrito and gave it a sniff. “I like sushi, and I like burritos, but I don’t know if I will like them together.” It smelled like a burrito but was sealed up to where I couldn’t smell or see what was inside.
“Try it before you tell me you don’t like it,” he suggested.
“You sound like my dad,” I grumbled. I picked off a piece of the tortilla.
Mace glanced at me and chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?”
“I can’t say it, babe. I’ll sound like a dick.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Now I need to know even more that you are laughing at.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I’m not eating this until you tell me what you are laughing at. And just so you know, I am starving, so the hungrier I get, the feistier I will get.”
“By feisty, do you mean bitchy?”
“Keep your joke from me, and you’ll find out.”
“Fine,” he chuckled. “But I did warn you, so you can’t get pissed off at me.”
I wiggled my fingers at him. “Bring it on.”
“You told me I was acting like your dad, and I was going to say neither of us would know what that was actually like.”
“Mace,” I groaned. “That is not right.” I chuckled and shook my head. “Though it’s pretty accurate.” I took a bite of my burrito and was pleasantly surprised. “This is good.”
Mace glared at me. “I know.”
“And my therapist would tell you that your jokes about our absent parents is a coping mechanism.”
“There is no coping to it, babe. I know my parents were shit, and I joke about it. End of story.”
“You joke about it because it still hurts.”
He bent over and grabbed a bottle of water. “Yeah, that shit hurts, babe, but there isn’t a damn thing I can do to fix it. I’ve accepted it, and I make the occasional joke about it at my expense.” He took a drink and screwed the cap back on. “And we don’t need to talk about my parent issues.”
“Is that so?” I laughed.
“Yeah. What we need to do is talk about your grandma and mom.”
I rolled my eyes and took a huge bite. “Ee cent tek ma muf.”
Mace tipped his head to the side. “I can wait until your mouth isn’t full, babe.”
I chewed thoughtfully. I raised my hands to take another bite, but Mace grabbed my hand. “Hey,” I protested. “I’m hangry.”
“You had a bite, and you can have more after we talk about your grandma for a second.”
I rolled my eyes and dropped my hands. “They both are jerks. My mom even more so now because I didn’t know my grandma fought for me when I was little. I always just figured my mom was a bitch because my grandma was a bitch to her growing up.”
“So you believe her?”
I shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense. I do remember my grandma coming around when I was really young, and she was nice to me most of the time. When I got older, she did come around, but it was less and less.”
“I just don’t understand why she punished you when she was mad at your mom.” Mace shook his head. “That is the shit that got me.”
“Because she’s human. I wouldn’t know what that would feel like to watch your daughter treat her daughter like a burden. She wanted to help me, but my mom wouldn’t let her. After a while, if you kept hearing the word no, and having the door slammed in your face, that hardens you. Should she have started hating me? No, but again, she’s human.” I held up my burrito. “Did I earn another bite?” I sassed.
“Babe,” he laughed. “You and I both know you could have told me to fuck off, and I would have been fine with that. I’m not keeping you from eating.”
“I know.” I took a bite and studied him.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
I swallowed and grabbed his bottle of water. “Hey, I brought you one.”
I shook my head and twisted off the cap. “I like yours.” I took a drink and handed it back to him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time in my mouth, Mace. I think drinking out of the same bottle is fine.”
He grabbed the bottle and took a drink.
“And I was just looking at you before. I like you,” I laughed. “You’re a sight I like to see.”
He choked and patted his chest. “I would hope so,” he wheezed.
“If only I could say the same things about my family,” I muttered. “Can we be done talking about them? You’re killing my mood after a nap and a delicious burrito.”
“Sure, babe.”
We finished our burritos watching a Home Improvement rerun, and then got ready for bed.
“I don’t know why I’m putting my pajamas on,” I called from the bathroom. “There is no way I am going to be able to sleep anytime soon.” It was nearing ten o'clock, but I felt wide awake and ready to start the day. “Do you want to watch a movie?” I turned off the bathroom light and opened the bathroom door.
“I was thinking we could do something else.”
My jaw dropped at Mace standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but what the good lord gave him.
He was naked.
Gloriously naked.
My eyes slowly traveled over his body, and my heart raced.
“Imogen,” he called.
“Yeah?” I mumbled.
He slowly stalked toward me, and his dick bobbed with each step. My head nodded with each step his dick moved, and my mouth watered.
“I thought we could do a little exploring.”
I tipped my head back when he was right in front of me. “Just call me Ferdinand Magellan.”
“Babe,” he laughed.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “He’s a Portuguese explorer. You said we could do some exploring,” I trailed off.
“You’re a nut, Imogen.”
I shrugged and trailed a hand down his bare chest. “You could call me anything right now, Mace, and I would be totally fine with it. You’re naked.”
He looked down and chuckled. “So I am.” He grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. “The only thing that would make this better is if you were naked.” His other arm snaked around my waist and pulled me flush against him.
“Hi there,” I gasped.
His lips pressed against mine, and my hands slid up his neck into his hair.
He lifted me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His kisses were something wet dreams were made of.
Never had I been with a man who took what he wanted but gave me back even more in return.
“Arms up,” he whispered.
I lifted my arms, and my nightshirt disappeared. He set me on my feet, and I struggled to stay standing.
