Missy Johnson - Provoke

“Dude, maybe you should go home and relax or something.”

“That's the problem. I can't relax.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, but all you’re doing here is breaking shit.”

I threw the spanner down on the ground, wincing as it bounced across the concrete floor. He was right—I fucking knew that—it was just that the last thing I needed was somebody telling me what to do.

Fuck. Maybe I shouldn't be here. I stood up abruptly, sending the milk crate I'd been sitting on flying backwards.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Have it your way. I'm gone.” I ignored Finn’s protests and stormed back out to my bike.

For the next hour or so, I just rode. I was heading nowhere in particular, and it felt good.

Why hadn't I thought of that first?

There was no better way for me to clear my head than on my bike—especially finding an unused back road somewhere, where I could take my helmet off, do a few burnouts, and just let off some steam. This is what I needed. I already felt better.

Parking my bike, I jumped off and sat down on a grassy patch beside it. It was as good a time as any to try and think out my next move. I couldn't think straight around Leeta. Never could. I knew I didn't want her to be any more involved than she already was. If anything happened to her because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

But I also knew how stubborn she could be.

I gripped hold of a few blades of grass between my fingertips, and tugged them from the ground. Lifting my hand above my head, I let the blades fall, watching as they slowly floated towards the ground, not really knowing where they would end up.

That was kind of how I felt—like I was free-falling without a parachute, with no idea how long it was until I hit the ground.

#

I got to my feet and picked up my helmet. I had to get back there. I could put it off facing her for a while, but not forever. The last thing I wanted was to get into another fight. What I wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before—which was ridiculous, considering I'd built our whole relationship around lies.

I shook my head. What she’d ever seen in a fuck-knuckle like me, I would never know.

Mace

“Hello?”

I knocked gently on the door before entering the room. Tim's car was gone, which was good, because I sure as hell couldn't handle him right now. I was on edge enough as it was.

I shut the door and took in the complete silence. I didn't need to check the bedroom or the bathroom. I knew she was gone.

“Fuck,” I cursed. Fuck me and my overreactions. Fuck me for keeping things from her. Fuck me for ruining the only good thing in my life. Fuck everything.

I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. And fuck this piece of shit motel for not having a minibar. I slammed the door shut and headed for the bedroom. Throwing myself down on the mattress, I buried my face in the pillow. I was wrecked. I hadn't slept in days, and it was starting to show. I was no good to myself at the moment, let alone her. I needed to pull myself together. I needed to fucking sleep.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Picking up my phone, I found her number. My finger hovered over the call button. But then I hesitated. She wasn’t here for a reason. The least I could do was respect that. Closing my eyes, I pictured her face. Her smile. Everything about this woman I loved. How could I make her see that?

A few hours later I woke up, feeling worse than I had before. My head ached like a jackhammer was pounding through it, and the anger I felt at the world had doubled. Kicking back the covers, I grabbed my stuff and left.

Sitting around here feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to fix anything. If I wanted to change things, then I was going to have to work at it.

Leeta

After he dropped me home, Tim insisted on sticking around for a while. The last thing I wanted was company. I wanted to have a long soak in the bath and spend some time with Marcus who, judging by his full plate of biscuits, had been well cared for while I was away. My heart swelled at the thought that Mace had stopped in here and topped up Marcus's food bowl.

I mean, how cute was that?

Tim finally left, but only after making sure I had eaten a proper meal. His version of a proper meal? Takeout pizza.

I was so damn tired. I hadn't slept properly in days, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I walked into the bathroom and ran the bath, sprinkling some bath salts into the water. I undressed, discarding my clothes on the floor, not bothering to put them in the hamper. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I carried it back into the bathroom.

Stepping into the hot water and lowering myself under was equivalent to experiencing the best sex I’d ever had. That’s how exhausted I was: I’d take a bath over an orgasm. Maybe that was my age showing.

I took a sip of my wine and closed my eyes.

“Leet? Are you here?”

I sat up with a start, sending water and wine splashing everywhere.

What the hell is Mace doing here?

“I'm in the bathroom,” I yelled out.

Seconds later, he appeared in the doorway. “I meant I'd be out in a minute,” I said tersely, trying my best to cover myself.

He cocked his eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on his face.

“It's not like I haven't seen it all before.”

“Yeah? Well, I haven't decided whether you’ll ever get to see it again,” I snapped back.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes, can you get me a wine, please?”

I stepped out of the bath, grabbing a towel off the rack. I wrapped the soft material of the towel tightly around my body. After drying my hair and my face, I walked out into the living room just as Mace walked towards me, carrying two glasses of wine. I raised my eyebrows.

“What?” he asked. “I drink wine.”

“Isn't there any beer?” I smirked

“That's not the point,” he said, narrowing his eyes. He took a sip and raised his eyebrows.

I chuckled. I set my glass down on the coffee table. “You want to know what Tim had to say before you stormed out?”

He winced. “Look, I'm sorry about that. I just needed to clear my head, you know? That’s why I came over—to say I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment. “And I might have been a little angry you showed him the video.”

“How else was I going to see if he could help us? Besides, it's not like he's seen you naked. He'd have no idea that was you,” I pointed out.

“That’s not the point,” Mace sighed. “How do you think it made me feel having him watch that?”

 “How do you think it makes me feel?” I asked softly.

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know what else I can say, Leet. I love you, but you have to be ready to forgive me or nothing I say will make a difference.”

He was right. I did have to be ready. And I wasn’t yet. Would I ever be? I hoped so. I really did.

#

After Mace had left, I climbed into bed. It was only just after eight, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to be back in my own place. I stroked Marcus, who had decided he was sleeping next to me on my bed. I was okay with that; I liked having him around.

My phone rang. I reached for it, expecting either Tim or Mace.

“Hello?”

“Leeta.”

My blood froze. Ben. I had completely forgotten that I’d emailed him in the midst of my ‘I’m dating a rapist’ breakdown.

“Ben.” My voice came out kind of like a breathless gargle. I cringed, slapping my hand over my face. If there was someone I didn’t want to speak to right then—or ever—it was Ben.

“I got your email. I was surprised to hear from you. After the last time—”

“Yeah, let’s not go into the details, okay?” I said. I instantly felt bad about snapping. I had contacted him, after all. The fact that he was shocked to hear from me after he’d called me—his fiancée—to unchain him from the hotel bed his ‘friend’ had cuffed him to after robbing him was hardly surprising. 

God, the image of walking into that room was something I never wanted in my head again. Unfortunately for me, it was hard to think about Ben without picturing him naked and cuffed to that bed with a belt clasped tightly around his neck and his dick in a cuckhold. I shuddered.

“You said you needed my help? Anything, Leeta. Whatever I can do . . .”

“No, I’m actually all good now, thanks.” I groaned internally, wanting this whole conversation to end. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now. Please. Forget I contacted you.”

Mace

Parking in the visitor’s lot at the prison, I laughed to myself. Twice in one week? God, I must really be in trouble. But I wasn’t there to see Dad this time; I was there to see my brother.

And Dad couldn’t find out about it.

I went through security and was led toward the visitors’ area by a guard.

“Hey,” I said once we were out of earshot. I hadn’t met this guy before—bribing a guard you didn’t know was always a huge risk. “Say I wanted to meet my brother somewhere a little more private? Could you hook me up?”

The guard stopped and turned, staring at me though narrowed eyes. Just when I thought I was going to get hauled off into my own cell, he nodded.

“I could help you out . . . but you need to understand the risk in that for me.” I pulled out a fifty. He nodded. “Follow me.”