Page 11 of Take What Hurts

Frankie 8:06AM

i don’t like to kiss and tell, but yes. A total fuckfest Mind altering sex with two lovely specimens. I’ve never had so many orgasms.

Mackenzie scoffed out a laugh. What Frankie wanted, Frankie got, and Frankie had been wanting a threesome for weeks.

Mackenzie 8:10AM

congratulations

Frankie 8:11

don’t sound so jealous, and don’t tell me what you’ve done with yourself this long weekend because I can guess and it’s very boring

Mackenzie scowled, because yes, it was boring. Aside from the general moping, she’d also binged Schitt’s Creek for the twelfth time.

Frankie 8:12

a resounding silence. I was right. Meet me at Lou’s in 20

Mackenzie sighed but said she would see her there.

“You know your mother is a narcissistic, emotionally abusive C-U-Next-Tuesday, yes? I can’t believe you’re still giving her money.” Frankie’s nose scrunched in disgust, and Mackenzie didn’t blame her. She’d just finished telling her about what she had endured on Friday night, including the whiplash of watching her mother interact with anyone who wasn’t her. “Like, that behavior is truly unhinged. And also, fuck Reilly, because she knows what a fucking asshole your mother is.”

Mackenzie choked out a laugh. “Frankie, she’s my mother. And she’s done so much for me in my life.” Even to Mackenzie’s own ears the words sounded like a worn-out, feeble excuse. “What would you have me do?”

Frankie stared at her, incredulous. “Are you serious? Do you know how many people are cutting off their parents now for doing far less than what your mother does to you? And why do you pay her, again?” Frankie tapped her chin in mock thought, and Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “Oh! Yes,” she said, finger in the air, “that’s right, because she thinks you owe her for giving you basic shelter, food, and water. As a child. What would you say to a client who told you all that about their own mother?”

Mackenzie squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. “Look, I know.” She growled. “I know. But, Frank, there’s just this thing”—she waved her hands vaguely around her abdomen—“that makes me feel like I have to just—” She cut herself off, sucking a harsh breath in. “I don’t know. When she explains it, it all makes such logical sense, and I kind of wonder why she’d lie to me, you know?”

Frankie stared at her, green eyes narrowed. “Babe, that’s called gaslighting. And more generally, emotional manipulation.” She scoffed. “It’s criminal, honestly.”

Mackenzie pressed a palm against her forehead and let out a soft laugh. “I see your point, all right? And my therapist said the same thing.”

Frankie jumped out of her seat and screeched, “See?” The man at the table next to them lurched, spilling his flat white down the front of his crisp white shirt. He glared at Frankie, who muttered “Sorry” before she retook her seat. “See?” she muttered quietly across the table.

Mackenzie stifled a laugh behind her palm and silently passed a handful of napkins to the next table. “Yes, Frankie. I see. And I’m going to try and do something about it this time.”

Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, hitching an eyebrow high on her forehead.

Mackenzie chuckled. “I’m serious, Frank. She really crossed a line on Friday. I’m just not sure I’m ready to do anything entirely drastic yet. I feel like if I push her away, she’ll be gone forever, you know? And she’s my mom.”

She watched Frankie deflate. “I get it, Mac. I do. But you don’t deserve that shit—nobody does. And you need to start standing up for yourself. Channel the queen-on-the-Iron-Throne energy you get at work.” Frankie sighed. “Anyway, I’m here to help you with whatever step you want to take.”

Mackenzie fought through the squirming in her stomach to push out a small smile. “Thanks, Frank.”

Frankie sat up straighter and clapped her hands together. “Right, how was San Francisco? Are you the lawyer who is finally going to settle that fucking matter?”

Frankie didn’t know the details about the matter Mackenzie was working on, or who the client was, but she knew enough to know it was a complete shit show.

“It was, as expected, a fiasco. The client is unusually psychotic, and I anticipate that she will make this almost impossible to resolve. But nothing I can’t handle. And then they’re going to give me the partnership.”

Frankie launched a fist into the air, and Mackenzie huffed out a laugh.

“Honestly, it should be in court by now, but the other side wants to avoid that like the plague because of the emotional cost, and my client is fine with that because she’s content to continue torturing her ex-wife via settlement negotiations.” Mackenzie dragged a hand over her face and tried not to let the hot, sick feeling settle.

Frankie frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “Sounds fucked up. And worse, because the other lawyer is probably another douchebag with a pompadour haircut and a suit from Target who thinks he knows more than you because he has a dick and balls.”

Mackenzie swallowed her bite of chocolate muffin, carefully avoiding Frankie’s gaze as she forced out a laugh. “Yeah, exactly.” Immediately, she knew she hadn’t been convincing.