Page 11 of Evidence of Us

We go to the kitchen, and she pulls the food out of the oven and dishes up the plates while I open a bottle of wine. This was from our wedding, courtesy of my parents, but I refused to drink it with her. I didn’t even want to marry her, but she and my parents bugged the hell out of me.

We sit and start eating dinner. She tells me about the neighborhood drama, and I tell her about my day, minus case details. I don’t mention Mariska because that’s not what the final meal is about. This is saying goodbye to everything we pretended that we were. Even if I never get Mariska back, this needs to happen. Seeing Mariska today just made me realize I have put this off for far too long.

When we get done eating, we wash the dishes together before we go to the living room. At first, she sits on the opposite side of the couch, but when I motion her over. She snuggles into me, and I start the movie.

About halfway through, her hand starts inching up my thigh. I let it happen instead of knocking her hand away like I usually do. When she gets to my belt, she stops. I unhook it, and she immediately turns and works my cock out of my pants. I sit back as she starts stroking me. My body responds instantly, and she licks her lips. She wants rough, so I grab her by the hair, and she opens her mouth so I can shove her down on my cock.

“Suck me,” I growl as I fuck her throat. She gags but strokes and sucks me, making me ram into her mouth harder. She reaches between her legs to touch herself, and I let her get started, but then I stop and shove her back on the couch to yank her shorts off. She is fucking giddy when I push her knees to her chest, but that flips instantly when I slam into her cunt without warning.

“Fuck!” she screams and starts fighting me. I put her legs on my shoulders and start quickening my pace, enjoying the way she screams in pain. Even in pain, her cunt is tightening around me, and her legs are shaking. Right before she comes, I stop again.“You asshole,” she whines, making me chuckle as I put her on her knees and push the side of her face into the couch.

This time, when I surge into her, she moans through her scream. I want this to be over with, so I grab her hips and start fucking her as hard, deep, and fast as I can. Her hand is between her legs, rubbing her clit.

“Fuck, that’s good! Oh, Mark. fuck. Yes, fuck me harder,” she moans.

It suddenly feels like someone has dumped ice water on me, and I stop. She knows why, too, and scrambles up from the couch and away from me. “What the fuck did you just say?” I ask, seething, as I get up and immediately corner her. Anger explodes out of me, so I scream it directly in her face. “What did you say?!”

“Mark,” she says, her voice trembling.

“My brother? You are fucking… You know what he did to me. You know this. You know how cruel he was to me,” I say, baffled that he is who she’s been fucking since the beginning.

I decide this isn’t worth it. Screaming at her doesn’t change that she’s been fucking the same brother who held me down at five years old and raped me bloody because I told him I hated him.

I turn and walk down the hall to the bedroom. I start by getting dressed first, and then I get bags out of the closet and start packing everything into them. I take everything I want, knowing I can replace anything I leave behind.

By the time I have everything loaded into the backseat of my truck, Meghan has stopped crying. I think I scared her, because I never scream at her or anyone like that, but oh well. I go to the office and make sure I have everything: my devices, important files and documents, and anything I might need, so I don’t have to come back.

I take the house key off my keyring and set it on the kitchen island before walking to the door. “I’m sorry, Zeke,” Meghan says. I stop and look at her, and she closes her mouth.

“If you were sorry, you never would have been fucking my rapist,” I say hatefully before turning and leaving the house.

When I get into the truck, I am on autopilot as I drive. I have no idea where to go, so I just go until I get to the grocery store and park in the very back of the lot. I shut the engine off and lay my seat back. My phone dings, but I ignore it. A few minutes pass, and I get another, so I sigh and grab my phone. I can’t help but grin when I see that it’s Mariska.

Mariska

Hey. So, I might have locked myself out of the system…

Hellooooo. Please don’t make me call Kevin! Help!

Me

Hey, sorry. I was driving. Give me a second.

Okay. You should have an email. All I did was click through the forgot password thing.

Mariska

Really? I did that. Lame.

Oh, Hell. I have 15 password reset emails ?? Whoops. Thank you.

Me

You’re welcome. What are you doing?

Mariska

Reading over the files again. You?