Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Mackenzie was dying to put on some speed, but she was the anchor, and knew Ma was counting on her. If anyone fell or got a flat, she’d need to be there.  She could see Frankie up in the distance, not too far off.

Mac got into her zone, pedaling to the rhythm of the wheels on the pavement, the ruts in the road, and the cars going by. The bike felt like air underneath her. Or, rather, like it was part of her. Even if she wasn’t going full tilt, she was flying, connected to the earth by a thin strip of rubber, a well-oiled machine and her power. She was stronger physically than she’d ever been. Now if she could only get as strong mentally maybe she’d be able to stop thinking about Grady. Her mind kept going back to him. Back to them. It was like picking a scab—painful, yet impossible to resist.

How could he sleep with Sophie? She was almost family, even if they didn’t grow up together. By law Sophie would be his sister. Psychologically, it was family.

Mackenzie shuddered so hard her front tire wobbled. She struggled to regain her balance, positive she was about to do a major face plant. For a split second, Mac was sure she had narrowly escaped injury. She knew she was wrong as soon as she and her bike parted ways.

As she rolled across the pavement she thought, Wow, I’m glad we did that Take a Dive Day. Instead of instinctively guarding against the fall with her hands and then breaking a wrist or two, she tucked and rolled, just like the Geeks had practiced. Mackenzie reached for the whistle around her neck and blew hard to signal Frankie that she’d fallen. She pulled a couple of pebbles out of her shoulder, which seemed to have taken the worst of the hit.

Mackenzie sat on the edge of the road, examining her injuries. As she watched fat droplets of blood ooze from her knee, Mac finally connected with the idea that had rolled under the bureau into the darkness beyond her grasp; all her turmoil had nothing to do with Grady. Or Sophie. Or the two of them as a couple.

Mackenzie couldn’t remember when it started, but she must’ve been little because every time her father placed his gigantic, hairy hand over hers, it disappeared. She’d thought, I want the rest of me to disappear, too. Mac cried and tried to push him off her. He’d said no one could love her like he did and that they were the only two members of a special club. It’s what he always told her. He’d flicked her little hand away as though he were brushing a gnat off his sleeve. They were alone now. Just the two of them against the world. No one would understand what a special love they had, he cooed. It was only for the two of them: him, and his princess.

Mackenzie always knew she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. But sometime early on, she also realized the one thing he couldn’t control was her mind. That’s when she learned to peddle off into the sky on her flying bicycle. She got so good at pretending it was almost as though she wasn’t even in the bed with him. More like she was watching someone else. 

He stopped saying that stuff about their private club after awhile. He didn’t need to calm her anymore, because she wasn’t there. She was flying away.

In fact, throughout her life, Mackenzie had become very good at not paying attention to anything about the subject. She banished it from her mind, and she’d managed to avoid all that crap on TV about kids getting touched or abused, or raped. It wasn’t easy, since all the crime dramas did some sick episode on child porn, every “serious” news magazine did a series where they caught pedophiles, and what seemed like each morning, the news-ertainment shows had a panel of expert doctors with solemn faces, explaining how parents could keep their kids safe.

But what if the parent being warned was the one who was endangering the kid? What if you did that stuff, but convinced yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong? Her dad acted like nothing had ever happened. It made her feel like she’d imagined it all. And she went along with it by becoming very good at ignoring anything unpleasant.