Too Close for Comfort

Summer: Day 33

Summer: Day 33

Mack's POV:

Zachariah leans down and kisses my lips three times. I love you. "I'll see you tomorrow, I promise."

I nod, reaching up to kiss him again. "You could just come over again," I suggest.

He smirks. "Doesn't sound like too bad of an idea—"

"But you have plans with the boys and I gotta respect that," I say with an attitude, rolling my eyes. "It's alright, feel free to ditch me."

He ruffles up my hair and chuckles. "Bye, Kenz."

I push him away playfully and walk towards the street. "Bye."

When he gets in his car and drives away, I sit in my own and look up at the house I grew up in. Janet and Shawn Lemay; my supposed-to-be parents. She kicked me out—she actually failed as a parent.

It's funny, some people play the victims for the crimes they committed. My mom cared about how I made her look more than how I was actually feeling. She never cared to ask how my day was, what I did, what I wanted to do. She was so self-absorbed, she'd tell me to get my life together at the same time hers was falling apart, and when I did the things she'd get on me about, it wasn't what she wanted; it wasn't good enough for her. I wasn't good enough for her.

But in life, you can't please everyone. My dad couldn't please my mom, I suppose. He turned into a drunk, self-entitled businessman who abused his daughter in hopes that'd change the path his life was going down. News flash, that didn't work. The knife didn't cut me deep enough.

Pissed off with my thoughts, I open my car door and head straight to the house of hell. I was going to confront them, regardless of what they wanted to say, because I've had enough of their dictatorship to tolerate it any longer. The last week of being alone, away from them, has been such a breeze; it was so easy to detach myself from them. And that, they needed to know how much better off I am without them.

I open the front door and, to my surprise, it's unlocked. Irresponsible people, am I right?

But the second I open the door is the second I lose any small ounce of respect I had for my mother, and Mr. Montgomery for all that I know. Because there they were, going at it like rabbits on the couch. God help me please.

"What the hell is going on here?" I ask in a demanding tone, not able to look away. This is the worst thing I've ever seen. "Richard, stop fucking my mom right now and tell me what the hell is going on here," I say again when they don't stop.

He lets out a groan and finishes with no shame before turning around, completely undressed. Okay I did not need to see that. "What are you doing here?" he snaps, eyes enraged with anger.

I do my best to keep my gaze on his eyes. "What are you doing here, asshole?"

"Language," my mom says, throwing the man's shirt over her head in an attempt to cover herself up.

"No," I say, my hatred through the roof. "I'm eighteen and you kicked me out. You have no right whatsoever to tell me what to do. If you wanted my respect, all that just went down the drain. What the fuck is he doing here?"

"We were clearly having sex," Richard deadpans, crossing his arms. "You'll be next if you don't shut that bratty trap of yours."

"I'm not interested in your dick," I retort, scoffing. "I have your son for that." As if they needed to know that. Quite frankly, I don't care right now.

"Which son, Mackenzie Lane Lemay?" he taunts, clicking his teeth. He emphasizes every vowel to add a dreadful effect to the words.

I roll my eyes. "Put on some pants. I don't want to see the only thing left of your manhood, it's disgusting."