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Through my job as a social worker, I’d like to think I’ve gotten good at reading people, and understanding what makes them tick. For Mia, loyalty and pride have been part of every decision she’s ever made. Pride in her appearance, talents, intellect, job, and pretty much every aspect of her life. Before she met Kas, Alec, and me, her career and Mark were her everything. Now, she has us but has lost the other part. To deal, she tried to turn Neil into her new project, actually, it’s almost like a passion project.
Neil went even further with his mind games. He forced her to bend to his will, and she did it. She put up with it to keep Marilyn and me safe because she’s loyal, and now she’s paying for it.
Each of Mia’s grief-stricken cries that carry through the door guts me. Unable to hold back, I open her door, closing it gently behind me before I walk over to her on the bed. This time I’m not hesitating before pulling her into my arms.
“You’ve been calling Mark,” I say. Unwilling to ask her and give her the option to lie to me. Stroking her hair, I whisper comforting words, hoping it will help bring her back.
“Yes,” she croaks. “He’s left me a lot of messages to listen to, and I can leave some for him, too.” Nodding, I keep stroking her hair and back.
As she cries in my arms, I think back on last night and what she did. Maybe I should have stopped her. I didn’t though. Instead, I aided her in what she thought she needed, even though I suspected it wasn’t what she truly wanted.
Although I know Mia has hurt Neil when she’s been on her own in the basement, I’m immensely proud of her for realizing she couldn’t be part of physically hurting him yesterday. Instead, she turned the moment around and used it to her advantage. Dancing in front of Neil like that was a big step for her, and I’m so fucking proud of her for doing it. Although it wasn’t a striptease or really any kind of sexy dance, I watched her work through some of her inner turmoil. My heart swelled with pride as her movements turned more fluid than jerky, and I almost didn’t interrupt her after I was done working Neil over.
Then I fucked her beneath the stars, and I somehow thought things were looking up. Not because of the sex, but because she let go of her anger. I saw it. I felt it. She stopped pushing me and instead embraced me. So what the fuck happened since she now needs to make calls again?
“Babe, why are you calling Mark again?” I wait with bated breath for her answer. “I mean, you stopped, didn’t you? Is it because of the package?”
Mia shakes her head against my chest. “I never stopped, I don’t think I ever can. I didn’t leave any messages for him, only listened to Mark’s voice.”
Yeah, that makes sense.
“What did you want to talk about, Coen?” Mia asks in a small voice.
I swallow audibly. This is my now or never moment.
“I don’t understand the point of today’s class,” Mia complains all the way to the parking lot. “It was all things we have already been over. It was a waste of time for us to go.” Frustration is clear in her voice.
Taking her hand, I intertwine our fingers before I say, “It felt refreshingly normal to me.”
“It did, didn’t it?” Mia’s smile grows, as though she likes the idea of doing something normal. “You’re right. I usually have fun in public with you,” she purrs into my ear, and my cock inappropriately reacts to the want in her tone.
Letting go of her hand, I pull her closer and wrap my arm around her middle. “We can make it more interesting next time,” I rasp. “There are still a lot of places we haven’t been.”
I still can’t believe how put together she is. This afternoon was an emotional one. I finally laid all my cards on the table. Came clean about everything. No secret is left unshared, and she now knows exactly how dark and twisted I am. She knows about the unspeakable and atrocious things I’ve done, including killing my dad.
“Anytime!” she exclaims with a curl of her lips.
I blow out a breath, unable to come up with a way to describe the feeling of freedom living in my chest. Having Mia know every sordid detail about my life and still be by my side is as indescribable as it’s fantastic.
“Ahh, there you are, son.” My dad is leaning against my mom’s car. “I forgot you have your class on Monday and Thursday, so I swung by the house first.”
I swallow back a snort at how scatterbrained my dad is. I reminded him about our Business Class when we spoke this afternoon.
“Oh, you must be Mia? It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m James, Coen’s dad.”
With her big brown eyes, Mia looks like a deer caught in dad’s headlights as she comes to an abrupt halt just as said headlights cast a spotlight on her feet. “H-hi James, it’s good to meet you.” Squaring her shoulders, Mia walks up to my dad and shakes his hand. “Thank you for inviting us over and for picking us up,” Mia says. Her voice wavers slightly, but I doubt my dad will pick up on how uncomfortable she is.
That’s one of the many things I’ve noticed about Mia. Whenever she feels uncomfortable about something, she becomes formal. It’s kind of cute.
“Well, get in, get in. It’s too cold to stand out here for much longer.” My dad smiles as he opens the front passenger side door for Mia.
I couldn’t agree more, it’s entirely too cold for Atlanta. It might not be snowing anymore, but the wind makes it colder than I’m comfortable with.
The drive to my parents’ house takes almost an hour, during which my dad and Mia talk like they’re old friends. As I watch them, I have a permanent smile on my face. Just as I’d hoped, they’re getting along famously.
After spending the afternoon telling Mia all about my extracurriculars—sans mentioning my dad’s involvement—it would be a big, fat lie if I said I wasn’t afraid of how she would react to meeting him and my mom.
“Coen,”Mia sobbed, hiding her face behind her hands. “I don’t know what to say. My heart is breaking for you.” Then she abruptly sat up, pulled my shirt over my head, and discarded it on the floor before she licked and kissed her way up my tattooed arm.
