rapist.
Shit.
CHAPTER 04 - HUDSON
“Here, Mack, sit down.”
I couldn’t tell you why I had left the party to check on Mack. When I had seen her leave the main hall with Steve, I had thought that she looked a little out of sorts, that she wasn’t 100% comfortable with what was going on.
And Steve had just rubbed me the wrong way - there was something slimy about that guy just underneath the surface; I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t think he’d be good for Mack, despite barely knowing her. She wasn’t a player, but she was the daughter of John Mayfield, and that was enough for me to keep an eye out.
Plus, the way Steve had come off, I was gonna keep an eye out for any woman he talked to, just in case. I’d waited a few minutes then excused myself from Lance, Charlotte, Drake, and Lily, and gone out the same door Mack and Steve had taken.
I didn’t feel great going after her like that, but when I picked up their conversation and heard the struggle begin, I knew I had no choice but to intervene. It didn’t even occur to me to do anything different.
Which led us to now, with Mack and I sitting in this quiet and dimly lit office, our knees touching amidst all the clutter. I looked at Mack, trying to see if she was OK. Of course, if I asked she’d tell me she was just fine, but I kinda had a hunch she was about this close to breaking down.
I wasn’t gonna judge - I had long ago learned that my height and imposing size made the world and everyone in it appear differently to me, and people had been giving me wide latitude since I was 10 on account of what I could do on the football field.
So I was sure that Mack’s take on things would be different. I leaned back and watched her as she composed herself.
She was gorgeous. Curves galore, a body that just wouldn’t quit. Her dress and jewelry were exquisite. Everything about her screamed money.
And I knew how rich she was. I knew her father was a billionaire. She could be the epitome of a spoiled rich girl. When I had met her for the first time, years ago when I joined the Patriots as a rookie, spoiled rich girl was the first thing that came to mind.
It had taken a little while to shake that opinion, luckily I had other things on my mind at the time, like, you know, playing professional football and everything that came with it.
Mackenzie had attended various Patriots functions with her parents and each time I had thought she looked more and more beautiful. John Mayfield hadn’t talked much about her, so I was surprised as hell to find out a few years ago that she had graduated from some really great schools and now was coming to work in the front office of the Patriots.
That was years ago, and since then I had realized that Mack was smart and capable in addition to being drop dead gorgeous.
“You OK?” She hadn’t said anything in a while; I could tell she was still a little woozy from the alcohol.
“The way he was punching you…” Mack started before dropping off. “Are you OK?” She asked, turning it around to me.
I leaned back, looking down at my stomach. “Oh yeah, I’m fine, barely felt it. Everyone likes to think they’ve got a good set of punches in them, but most of them aren’t punching a professional linebacker when they pretend.”
Mack smiled, and I liked seeing it. It was good that she was able to find humor again so quickly. “But you, Mack, how are you?”
“I’m alright,” she said, looking down and smoothing out her dress. “I just got a little carried away there for a second…”
I could feel my face harden. “No, Mack, don’t do that to yourself. You did nothing wrong, this wasn’t your fault. Steve was an asshole, but nothing that happened was because of you.”
The way she looked at me with relief made the gears in my stomach turn. I wanted to reach out and take her into my arms, but I knew that even though we were alone, I couldn’t do that.
“Thank you for saying that,
Shit.
CHAPTER 04 - HUDSON
“Here, Mack, sit down.”
I couldn’t tell you why I had left the party to check on Mack. When I had seen her leave the main hall with Steve, I had thought that she looked a little out of sorts, that she wasn’t 100% comfortable with what was going on.
And Steve had just rubbed me the wrong way - there was something slimy about that guy just underneath the surface; I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t think he’d be good for Mack, despite barely knowing her. She wasn’t a player, but she was the daughter of John Mayfield, and that was enough for me to keep an eye out.
Plus, the way Steve had come off, I was gonna keep an eye out for any woman he talked to, just in case. I’d waited a few minutes then excused myself from Lance, Charlotte, Drake, and Lily, and gone out the same door Mack and Steve had taken.
I didn’t feel great going after her like that, but when I picked up their conversation and heard the struggle begin, I knew I had no choice but to intervene. It didn’t even occur to me to do anything different.
Which led us to now, with Mack and I sitting in this quiet and dimly lit office, our knees touching amidst all the clutter. I looked at Mack, trying to see if she was OK. Of course, if I asked she’d tell me she was just fine, but I kinda had a hunch she was about this close to breaking down.
I wasn’t gonna judge - I had long ago learned that my height and imposing size made the world and everyone in it appear differently to me, and people had been giving me wide latitude since I was 10 on account of what I could do on the football field.
So I was sure that Mack’s take on things would be different. I leaned back and watched her as she composed herself.
She was gorgeous. Curves galore, a body that just wouldn’t quit. Her dress and jewelry were exquisite. Everything about her screamed money.
And I knew how rich she was. I knew her father was a billionaire. She could be the epitome of a spoiled rich girl. When I had met her for the first time, years ago when I joined the Patriots as a rookie, spoiled rich girl was the first thing that came to mind.
It had taken a little while to shake that opinion, luckily I had other things on my mind at the time, like, you know, playing professional football and everything that came with it.
Mackenzie had attended various Patriots functions with her parents and each time I had thought she looked more and more beautiful. John Mayfield hadn’t talked much about her, so I was surprised as hell to find out a few years ago that she had graduated from some really great schools and now was coming to work in the front office of the Patriots.
That was years ago, and since then I had realized that Mack was smart and capable in addition to being drop dead gorgeous.
“You OK?” She hadn’t said anything in a while; I could tell she was still a little woozy from the alcohol.
“The way he was punching you…” Mack started before dropping off. “Are you OK?” She asked, turning it around to me.
I leaned back, looking down at my stomach. “Oh yeah, I’m fine, barely felt it. Everyone likes to think they’ve got a good set of punches in them, but most of them aren’t punching a professional linebacker when they pretend.”
Mack smiled, and I liked seeing it. It was good that she was able to find humor again so quickly. “But you, Mack, how are you?”
“I’m alright,” she said, looking down and smoothing out her dress. “I just got a little carried away there for a second…”
I could feel my face harden. “No, Mack, don’t do that to yourself. You did nothing wrong, this wasn’t your fault. Steve was an asshole, but nothing that happened was because of you.”
The way she looked at me with relief made the gears in my stomach turn. I wanted to reach out and take her into my arms, but I knew that even though we were alone, I couldn’t do that.
“Thank you for saying that,
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