Granting One Last Wish

MACKENZIE:

As expected, the party at Trey Hamilton's lake house is in full swing. A Nicki Minaj song is blaring from inside. The lawn is full of teenagers playing football despite the empty beer bottles, red cups, and crumpled soda cans littering the grass.

I shouldn’t be here, I mentally berate myself. But Rebecca was so adamant, and I just couldn’t say no. She’s the closest thing to a sister I've ever had. We walk through the crowded dance floor, which is already wet and sticky. The smell of booze, sweat, and cigarettes is wafting through the air.

The mini "bar" is full of drinks, cans of soda, beer bottles, a pitcher of pink punch, and a bowl of chips that could give you salmonella. Rebecca reminds me not to take any drinks from anyone who offers, so I grab a can of soda instead.

Her boyfriend, James, arrived earlier than us since he came directly from the game. He approaches us with a huge grin on his face.

“Babe, you made it! I thought you were joking,” James says happily after giving her a peck on the lips and me a peck on the cheek. “Hey, Mack. Good to see you here and not at one of those boring parties your parents usually throw.” 

I roll my eyes. He’s right, but those are my parents’ parties, so I have to be there and play the good daughter, which is easy because I am actually a good daughter.

“I said we would come, so here we are,” Becca retorts, seemingly annoyed.

“Good, babe. Let’s dance later, okay?” James doesn’t seem bothered by Rebecca’s expression.

“Becca, Mack. I’d like you to meet someone!” James yells when the new song starts to play. He grabs Rebecca’s hand, and I grab her hand as I follow them.

Rebecca pulls her hand back from James’ grip and yells, “Not a chance, babe! I promised Mack's mom that I’d take care of her. That means no meeting with horny football players.”

I shrug when I see them start whispering. Rebecca looks more annoyed, but we keep walking through the crowd and upstairs to the second floor.

“He’s not a horny guy, Mack. Just meet him, and if you don’t like him, just give him some excuse, like you need to go to the bathroom or you have a stomach bug.” 

I laugh at his lame excuses.

“Jeez, babe. You’re so annoying.” Becca rolls her eyes.

“Babe, trust me, okay? I’m not going to introduce Mack to a jerk because she’s my friend too.” James winks at me. “Relax.”

“Fine. Whatever!” Rebecca gives in.

“Who is he, James?” I ask.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he answers. My brows meet.

We stop in front of a group of guys, and I recognize most of them as his teammates. He introduces me to them since they already know Rebecca.

“Guys, this is Becca’s friend Mack. Mack, meet my teammates,” James says. Everyone waves and says hi, and I wave back and smile shyly.

I feel out of place when everyone starts talking about winning their game. I know how football works, but I’ve never watched them play. 

Rebecca is already sitting on James’ lap on the couch while I’m still standing at their backs, fidgeting.

I tap Rebecca’s shoulder and excuse myself before leaving. I walk down to the living room, where everyone is still dancing, swaying, and jumping like there’s no tomorrow. Everyone looks to be enjoying the party, while I look lost.

“Leaving already?” a husky voice asks from behind me, causing me to come to a halt.

I turn around, and my eyes land on a broad chest. I move my gaze up to the face of the one-and-only, six-foot-two Trevor “Trey” Hamilton, who is standing in front of me. His short blond hair is disheveled in a stylish way. He has bright blue eyes that glimmer, high cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips curved into a smile, and a chiseled jaw.

Jeez. I’m checking him out, the real reason I’m here. When Becca told me that Trey was throwing a party, I was beyond excited and even told my parents that I was going.

I clear my throat. “Um, yeah. Just getting some fresh air.” I look away. Lame excuse, I know, but I saw him flirting with Lorrie “Bitch” Morgan the cheerleader when I was introduced to his teammates earlier.

“Let’s go then, get some fresh air,” he says with excitement in his voice, and my heart flutters.

I look up and meet his gaze. “Shouldn’t you be with Lorrie?”

“She’s a bitch. I don’t like talking to people who complain all night about the cheerleading team, like everyone doesn’t already know all her drama,” he explains while looking me in the eyes.

“Um, sure.” 

He smiles. “Follow me.”

We scan the crowd for a path through the dancing bodies and out of the house. I can’t avoid bumping into a few couples making out in the hallway—horny teenagers. We keep walking a few more steps until we make it out of the house; the night is getting cold, and the breeze makes me shiver.

“So, you’re Becca’s friend? I've seen you with her at school. You don’t like football, do you? I’ve never seen you with her at our games.” 

We follow the stone path that leads to the lake. I can still see a few students sitting on the deck.

“Yeah. Becca’s my best friend. I’m not really a football fan. It’s hard to watch. It's as if you're all in a giant wrestling match, just with some running and throwing a football sprinkled in,” I tell him honestly.

“Yeah, too violent for you, I guess. So what're your plans for college?” he keeps looking from my eyes down to my lips and back again. It makes me a little bit self-conscious.

“I’m planning to stay here for college. My parents won’t let me move away since I’m still not legally an adult.

“Wait. How old are you, Mack?” he quickly asks.

“Sixteen. I know, I’m a freak,” I answer, looking up at him to see his reaction.

He chuckles. “You’re not a freak, Mack. You just excel academically, and you should be proud of yourself. You’re not like other girls, who are too busy putting on makeup.” Wow, Trey is not such a dumb jock after all. 

I give him a tight smile. “Well, thanks. How about you? Any plans for college?”

“Yeah. I got a scholarship to a school not so far away.” He smiles, and I want to giggle so badly. He’s just so cute—no, he’s hot.

“Congratulations! You deserve it.” I tap his arm playfully. 

“Thanks. I’ll get us some drinks. Stay here, okay? Be right back.” 

I nod and watch him walk away. I pull my phone from a pocket in the jacket I'm wearing over the red dress Rebecca chose for me.

***

“Wear the red one, Mack. Red is your color. Boys like a girl in red.”

“Are you sure? I have blue, green, and white. I’m not allowed to date yet, so I don’t care if boys like a girl in red. I just want to see Trey.” I peer back down at the dresses in my hands.

“Trust me. Red looks great on you. Put it on now; I still have to fix your hair. And don’t tell Catie.” Her eyes glimmer.

“Mom will know, trust me.” I take the red dress and hurry up to change.

***

I stand for a while, waiting for Trey to come back. The evening is so peaceful, if a little bit chilly. I can still hear the music from inside the house. The leaves of the trees rustle as the wind blows. The smell of fresh air and the moon reflecting on the lake are magnificent.

Not bad at all. I’ll have to thank Rebecca later. I hear footsteps coming closer to me, and I turn my head in excitement, thinking it must be Trey, but I don’t see anyone. 

I feel goosebumps on my skin. The hair on the nape of my neck stands up as I wrap my arms around myself.

I stare at the moon before closing my eyes slowly to take a deep breath. Before I can start day dreaming, hands grab my waist from behind, causing me to yelp in surprise.

I pull at the hands, trying to loosen them, but they are so strong. I shout for help. My mouth and my nose are instantly covered with a cloth. I struggle, but I can’t breathe, and I can’t hold out any longer. I inhale some chemical that burns my nostrils and my throat. I can’t fight anymore, and my eyelids start to feel heavy. My body becomes weak, and my eyes flutter closed.

***

I open my eyes, but I can’t see anything. Something is covering my eyes. I can’t move either. Then I remember what happened, and I start to panic. I try shouting, but my mouth is sealed with something, duct tape? I try to free my hands, but it seems like I’ve been chained. I can feel the cold metal around my wrists, and the clinking sound when I struggle to move is terrifying. How long have I been in this position?

I feel cold—so cold—and I can feel the hard floor under my skin. My ankles are shackled too. I’ve never been this afraid in my entire life until tonight, or is it day? I try moving, but as soon as I struggle, my wrists burn, and so do my ankles. I burst into tears, and that’s when I remember my parents. They must be so worried. 

I cry until I feel exhausted, but I abruptly stop when I hear the sound of a lock and a door opening then closing. I hear footsteps—heavy footsteps. I am trembling with fear and from the cold.

I’ve never felt so helpless. I don’t know what will happen to me here. My throat hurts, and my stomach grumbles. 

A lot of horrible scenarios pop into my head, and my body starts to shake from frustration, anger, hunger, and hopelessness.

Please, God. Please, don’t let me die like this.

***

The high-pitched sounds irritate my ears.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

ABBY:

Three years later…

I have to flex my neck a couple of times after hours of studying for my finals tomorrow, and I feel drained. I study hard to get good grades and to make my parents proud.

I don’t have to go to college to get a job to pay my bills. I don’t have to work at all. My parents are loaded, and I can have anything I ask for. I can buy whatever I want, travel around the world, dine in the most expensive restaurants, spend summer on a yacht, drink the most expensive wine, live in the most luxurious penthouse in Manhattan, have the fastest car in the world, and date the world's sexiest man.

My parents own the biggest hotel chain in the world, King Hotel and Restaurant, and I’m the only heiress. My dad is Michael Aaron King, the best dad any girl could dream of, and Catherine Elizabeth King is the most beautiful woman and the world’s number one mom.

I don’t need an annoying private tutor because I excel academically. Yeah, I’m in my third year of college at Boston State University, two hundred and sixty-six miles away from home, away from my parents, and away from my friends.

My life sucks! Just kidding.

I live with my roommate/best friend in an apartment that’s not world-class but not that bad either. I don’t have any other friends. I know it sounds pathetic, but whatever.

I met Andrew three years ago during therapy. He was seeing a doctor who was just one floor down from my shrink’s office. We met at reception, and we clicked right away. I guess we had enough in common.

***

“Hi, um, you’re seeing a doctor here?” he asked me shyly.

“Yeah. I have been for a couple of weeks, you?” I answered with a little smile. Not everyone would be so open about seeing a therapist, but why should I be ashamed about needing one?

“Dr. Peters.” He smiled. “You?”

“Dr. Waller,” I responded in a low voice.

“Hmm. You must be rich.” He scrutinized me from head to toe. Dr. Waller was famous in her field, and I didn’t look like I could afford to pay a doctor like her.

“Excuse me?” I asked him when he raised an eyebrow.

“She’s like a celebrity doctor. I’m Andrew, by the way.” He offered his hand for a handshake. I hesitated, but he kept his hand out and waited for me to shake it.

“I’m Ma—I’m Abbigail. Please, call me Abby.” I shook his hand, and then we walked out of the building.

“Sure, Abby. It suits you. Beautiful name.” He winked at me, which made me blush. I didn’t talk to strangers, and I didn’t linger when someone got close to me. The bodyguard Dad had assigned usually shooed them away.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Andrew offered.

I paused and faced him. “Actually, I’m walking to a coffee shop.” 

His eyes widened as if he'd had an idea. “Do you mind if I tag along?

“I don’t mind at all.” 

“Good. It's just that I've only been here for a couple of weeks. I’m ex-military, you know, PTSD and that kind of shit. Oh sorry, I swear a lot. Got used to it in the military. How about you?” he said easily, without a single flinch. 

“Do I swear a lot? Not really,” I answered.

He laughed at me.

“I just got here a month ago. I’m still in college,” I left it at that. I was still not comfortable sharing that horrific night, even with my doctor. It took a while, but I felt better now that there was someone who would listen to what I had experienced.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. I completely understand. It took a while for me, too.” He sounded apologetic.

I shrugged. “Thanks.”

We talked as we walked to the nearest coffee shop, which I always stopped by after my sessions. Andrew mentioned that he was crashing on the couch of one of his friends and was still looking for a decent apartment at a decent rate, which meant he needed a roommate.

I offered my place without even telling Dad; he was so pissed at me after that.

“Are you insane, Mackenzie? I thought we had already talked about not talking to strangers. You’re not just breaking my rules, you're letting a stranger live with you, and a man, for God’s sake. I’ll talk to Howard later. How come he didn’t report this to me?” He sounded so furious over the phone.

I bit my lip. Howard was going to lose his job.

“Jeez, Dad. Just calm down. You can meet him if you want to and do a background check. He’s a good person, trust me.” I rolled my eyes because he was overreacting again. He thought everyone around me was dangerous.

“You want me to calm down? You are hundreds of miles away from me and your mom, and you want me to calm down? You’re living with a stranger who could be a psychopath. You’re not an adult yet, Mackenzie. Does he even know what you went through?” he continued yelling into my ear.

“Dad, please, just meet him and give him a chance.” 

He sighed. “Fine, I will meet with him, and if I don’t like him, I'm kicking him out of your apartment. End of discussion.” 

My smile widened. “Great. I’ll let him know. Thanks, Dad. I love you!” I grinned and jumped.

“Don’t celebrate or thank me yet, young woman, and don’t tell him that I’m coming over.”

I stopped. My brows furrowed. “And why not?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he snaped.

***

I jolt in my seat when someone pats my shoulder. Speak of the devil.

“You’ve been glancing at the clock for nearly half an hour already. You didn’t even notice me come in. What’s with all the zoning out?” His brows are creased, but he looks happy.

“Oh, I was just thinking about my exams tomorrow,” I lie.

“Hmm. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m sure you’ll ace your exams.” He gives me an enigmatic smile.

I stand up from my chair. “What's for dinner? Are you going to cook for us tonight?” I follow him, passing by our small living room into our kitchen.

“I ordered you your favorite pizza. I’ll cook next time, but not tonight.” Yeah, my best friend can cook. He can make anything from scratch, and it's a good thing I have a fast metabolism, otherwise he’d turn me into a hippo with his cooking skills.

He’s already sitting on a stool, leaning his elbows on our granite countertop. I open our dark brown pantry, which matches the color of our cupboards.

“What do you mean you got me pizza? What about you? What're you going to eat?” I take out plates and cutlery for us.

“The best way to eat pizza is directly from the box. Why bother with plates, Abby? You’re so rich that sometimes you forget to have fun.”

I grab him a soda and me bottled water from the fridge. “You still didn’t answer me. Why aren’t you having dinner with me? Going out with friends?” I sit beside him and open the box of Greek Pizza. I grab one slice and start digging in.

“Well, I am going out, just not with friends.” 

I stop. My brows crease. “What?”

“I have a date tonight.” He doesn’t look me in the eyes.

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, my eyes grow big with surprise.

“Oh, wow! My best friend is dating. I mean, that’s good news. I’m happy for you.” I put down my pizza and pull him into a hug. 

“You’re going on a date tonight? Do I know her? What's she like? I mean, I’m sure she’s pretty. How did you two meet? Did you replace the condoms in your drawer? I’m sure they expired two years ago. Should I leave before you come home? Or should I just pretend I’m sleeping and wear a headset?” I grin like an idiot.

“Silly girl. You’re so funny. How did you know I have condoms in my nightstand? It doesn't matter anyway. I’m not getting laid tonight, Abby; it’s our first date. Jeez, you’re even more excited than I am.” He scrunches up his nose, and I can see the glimmer in his eyes.

“Why not? Why torture yourself waiting until the third date when you’re both attracted to each other?!” I roll my eyes. 

He laughs. “Jeez, Abby. Not everyone goes out on dates just to have sex. If you’re serious about someone, you can wait until you're both ready and start by getting to know each other first.”

I’m already on my second slice of pizza, and I am enjoying eating directly from the box. No hassle.

Rich people like to make their lives so difficult. 

“Don't most men think about sex like every seven seconds?” I inquire, laughing at my own question.

I add, “So, you’re really serious about this one? She's not just a fling or a one-night stand or one week in heaven?”

Andrew's dated girls, but none too seriously. I've never even gotten a chance to meet anyone he's dated, and the last one was over a year ago. That's when he stopped dating all of a sudden. The reason? I don’t know.

He snorts. “She’s different, Abby, and I like her. I met her last week. She’s our new client. I happened to be the one who installed the security system in her apartment. She’s beautiful. I even followed her to the grocery store like a crazy stalker.”

Andrew has worked at a security agency for three years now, but I've never met his co-workers. He said they would just hit on me. 

“Different how? Like tall, blue skin, yellow eyes, says 'I see you,'” I mimic Neytiri from Avatar, but fail miserably. I love that movie.

He laughs again and sips his soda. See, he even laughs at my lame jokes. We can always agree on a movie to watch, even crappy rom-coms—no arguments.

“I better go shower. Enjoy your dinner, Abby.” He kisses my head and tickles my side with his huge fingers before bolting out of the kitchen.

I narrow my eyes and yell even though my mouth is full. “I'll kill you! You know I’m ticklish, you dick!”

“Did you just say “dick”? Where are your manners, young lady? Such a filthy mouth. I’ll tell your mom not to send you copies of the books she buys!” he warns me.

“Don’t you dare, asshole! You know Mom always listens to you. I’ll pepper-spray all your boxers if she doesn't send me copies.”

He doesn’t look amused. He presses his lips together before saying, “I’ll pepper-spray your mouth right now if you keep calling me names, Abbigail!” He comes back and tickles me. “Watch. Your. Mouth. Young. Woman.”

I fall from my seat and try to kick him off, but he’s much bigger than me at six feet and two inches, all wide shoulders and muscle. He goes to the gym every day like his therapist suggested, and he was already in good shape before he started.

“Leave me alone, Andrew Clayton Tanning!” I laugh so much that I almost pee in my shorts.

“Insult me again, and you’ll see if I’m joking!” he warns me, and I know he'll follow through with his words. He treats me like the little sister he’s never had. He's threatened everyone who's ever tried to hit on me. He's even warned me that they just want to get into my pants. He says he knows the look and to stay away from those types of men. They’re all assholes.

“You’re the one who taught me every insult I know. They’re all in my head now, yet you’re blaming me?” I can’t stop laughing.

“I have to shower before it gets too late or my date will think I’m ditching her.”

I’m still sitting on the floor, wiping my tears, as he walks into his room. “Yea, yeah, you’ll be late anyway!” 

After almost an hour, he comes out of his room and walks to me on our couch.

“Well, look at you. All cleaned up. You’re definitely getting laid tonight.” I raise my hands in surrender. “Oops...sorry, I mean you’re definitely getting a second date.”

He rolls his eyes. His curly brown hair is slightly disheveled, but in a stylish way. His blue eyes glimmer. His nose is a little crooked from a fight, but it gives him a better look.

He looks handsome in a button-down blue shirt that fits him perfectly, two buttons undone to show a hint of his well-defined chest. Both sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his dark fitted jeans complete the outfit.

“Hmm. Behave yourself, okay Abby? Lock the door behind me. If you need anything—and I mean anything—call me immediately.” He's been very protective of me ever since he found out what happened to me three years ago.

“Ugh. Just go. I’ll be fine. I won’t wait up for you. I need to wake up early for my exams tomorrow, remember?” I wave my hand to shoo him away.

“Okay. I have to go. I love you, sweetie.”

“Enjoy your date, and good luck. I love you too, Drew.” After kissing my head, he walks out and locks the door after him.

I go to my bed and tuck myself in under my blanket. I call Dad, but he doesn’t answer. I call Mom, but it goes to her voicemail. I guess they’re still on vacation. I close my eyes, hoping to get a good night's sleep without interruption.

***

I wake up in the morning just a minute before my alarm. I check my phone. The Only message is from my best friend. Still no calls from my parents. 

I reply to Drew.

Abby: Miss you already. Thanks for not waking me up. Got a good night's sleep.

A few seconds later, he texts back.

Drew: Glad to know you slept well. Missed you too, sweetie. Don’t forget to eat breakfast before you go to school. Tc.

Abby: Don’t forget I want to hear every detail of your date. I’ll make sure to eat breakfast. I don't have any messages from Dad and Mom. Did they call you? 

Drew: No, sweetie. They didn’t. They’re probably enjoying their trip. Or don't have cell service. Be patient. Gtg. Luv u.

Abby: Maybe. Luv u 2. Tc.