kristy this is for you! youve always been my biggest support and im sorry i forgot to mention you in myshout outs after chapter 2. its just cause we talk all the time now :-p i know you know i luh ya.

this is only half of chapter 3 :)

"Mac, c'mon" Edith tried for the hundredth time that night. "You had your fun and you got your dinner. I wanna go home"

"yeah an people in hell want slurpees" he grunted back at her. "if you say it again imma gag ya with the dirtiest rag i can find"

She threw the towel she'd been wiping the counter down with into the sink. The kitchen was as clean as she was going to get it, and she had cooked not only dinner for him but also dessert. She had been sure he would give up this charade after all that, but for some reason he wasn't relenting. She desperately wanted to repeat herself, it was the only thing she could think to say, but she didn't want to call his bluff on gagging her. The house was littered with mechanic rags that were covered in oil and grease, and if he dug through the pile of laundry she'd gathered and found some of the ones she had used to scrub the filth of the counters, she wasn't sure she could live through it. Instead, she tried a slightly different approach.

"I need clean clothes though Mac, i can't just -"

"back of the pick-up" he told her without looking up, too busy concentrating on shoveling another large forkful of mashed potatoes into his face.

He ate like he was in some kind of prison, with his shoulders up protectively around his plate and his arm rapidly working to feed himself. Edith watched him, temporarily fascinated and impressed by his pace, until her heart unexpectedly sank. He ate like someone was going to take it away from him. She had been so distracted by it that for a moment, she didn't register what he had just said.

"wait, what?"

"yer clothes" He flicked his chin out in the direction of his pick-up; it was all the attention he could spare.

"what about them?"

"There'n back of the pickup" he said around a mouthful of food, clearly getting annoyed now. "fucking christ already"

Edith walked backwards a few steps, her eyes never leaving Mac's hulking form at the table while he grumbled to himself about what a pain she was being. Eventually he forgot her entirely though, using his fork to tear a huge chunk of meatloaf free and quickly devour it.

"goddamn that's good" he said absentmindedly as he scooped more mashed potatoes and dredged them through the sauce. "mmph"

Eddie checked to make sure Mac had rekenneled Duke before she made the journey outside, having no interest in suffering the fate that her shoes had. The sand was rapidly cooling now that the sun was going down, and she shivered slightly as she made her way over to his truck. It looked spooky parked there in the dusk, almost like it could jump out at her at any second. Duke barked at her and threw his body against the chain link fence, so she went as quickly as possibly to the bed of the truck to find out what he meant.

It was full of junk of course, but she saw two garbage bags that didn't seem to have quite the same level as dust on them as the surrounding debris, so she grabbed them and opened them quick at her feet.

They were full of her clothes. Clothes that had been in her dresser yesterday. The realization of what it meant was a strange mix of disgust and elicit joy. He had been in her apartment, he had gone to get her things for her. It wasn't really an apartment, sure...It was just a shitty motel room, and yeah his father owned it, but still, it was her space and he had gone there. Her chest felt weird. She was pissed at the invasion of privacy but she was also intrigued. Mac never did anything he didn't want to, so he must have had a good reason for it.

Except Edith could not compute this. The damage he had done recently was too fresh in her mind, and she couldn't let her guard down. Her instincts took over instead, rerouting her brain to remember the way it had felt when he physically pushed her away from him, when he had grabbed her face and told her she didn't matter. The tactic worked, enraging her instantly and sending her on the offensive. She stormed back to the house with the bags and hurled them at him, knocking his beer clean off the table and sending his mostly clean plate into his lap.

"the fuck girl!" he exclaimed, rising instantly to his feet and backing away from the mess. She had surprised him, yes, but he was good at recovery. He charged her, catching her neck and face in both hands and walking her quickly backwards to slam her up against the wall.

She gasped when she collided with it, and her hands came up reflexively to try and tear his off. It didn't phase him though, he simply dug in, squaring his hips and moving his feet shoulder width apart. He dropped his elbows to a more comfortable height and relaxed his hands just enough so that she wouldn't pass out. Then he leveled his face with hers, leaning down to account for their differences in height.

He waited for the anger to drain out of her eyes. He had expected panic, that frantic side to side dart of her pupils, but the girl held steady. The only thing he saw was hatred and maybe a little bit of pain around the edges. Her neck must have been sore as fuck already, and even with all the opiates coursing through her, he knew it had to hurt. The longer she held his gaze and didn't back down though, the more his rage subsided. Mac's temper was like a solar flare; it burned hot but it burned quick. Now that the girl had survived the initial, knee-jerk reaction of his anger, he could control himself and draw it out. His vision had cleared.

He exhaled through his nose and regripped her neck, letting her feel him there, demonstrating just how much power he'd gained. She tried to retaliate, but the way she dug her nails into his skin didn't hurt after decades of beating his hands to a pulp inside engines. Mac had also known to press his body against hers in a way that left no room for her to draw her knees up or kick him; he was well versed in this posture. They were attached at the hip and he had one leg between hers, pinning her where he wanted her.

"got you now sweetheart" he whispered at her, his eyes never breaking contact with hers as she struggled. "yer all mine"

Edith tried everything she could think of to get free. She threw her body as hard as she could from side to side and tried to stomp on his feet. She bucked and she yelled, but she couldn't push him off. It was like he was made of brick, he felt so dense and thoroughly constructed. Finally, she held still, effectively going limp in his arms. He waited a moment more, just to be sure she was truly done, before he dipped his mouth down to ghost over her lips.

"i wanna kiss you," he whispered, starting to smile and chuckle despite how serious he was pretending to be. "but yer face is all fucked up"

He let her shove him off then, rocking back and bringing his hand up to cover his mouth again. He held it right up in front, his thumb bent and about to touch tip of his nose, effectively hiding everything behind it. His eyes crinkled up in a way he'd never be able to disguise though, he looked fucking delighted.

"you're an asshole" she spat at him. "and the reason my fucking face looks like this"

"im sorry" he giggled. "all i heard was fuck my face, what did you say?"

Eddie screamed them, attacking him with renewed hatred. He was ready for it this time though, and when she ran at him he simply ducked and caught her around the waist, lifting her up onto his shoulder and smacking her on the ass.

"at least yer ass is still fat" he told her, running his palm over it and squeezing hard. "that part-a-ya still looks great"

Now she was really mad, trying to hurt him by pounding her fists onto his back and shoulders, doing anything to get him to put her down. It was a wasted effort though because his daddy had beaten the skin off of him a long time ago. His back was all scar tissue now, and her punches were deadened by the layers and years of physical abuse.

Behind him, her phone chimed on the counter. He turned, distracted by the noise, and she took the opportunity to find his chin blindly, yanking as hard as she could at the scruff she found there and making him curse. He practically threw her then, propelling back way from her and holding his face in his hands.

"Bitch!" he roared at her. "fuck is yer problem?"

"you are goddammit!" she screamed back at him, "now fucking let me -"

He held up his finger, his eyes practically dancing with light, as he waited for her to make the mistake. Except she caught herself, clamping her mouth shut before she could get the words out. She knew if she insisted on being allowed to go home he would follow through on his promise to gag her, so she summoned every ounce of self control she had in her body and kept her lips shut tight.

The phone chimed again.

"who the fuck is texting you?" Mac asked, preparing to push past her to reach the chirping device.

"its only the timer i set" she replied in annoyance, batting his hand away and unlocking it with a swipe of her thumb. "the brownies are done"

"put weed in 'em?"

"maybe"

"tryin' ta knock me out so you can make yer escape?"

"maybe"

He smirked at her, watching her pull the pan from the hot oven and calculating what he would do if she suddenly spun and hit him with it. He was relieved when she simply set them on the top of the stove to cool instead of using them as a weapon. They smelled really fucking good, and he hadn't ever had one this fresh; No one had ever baked him anything before.

Before she turned to face him though he hardened his features, not wanting to let on how excited he was. It wasn't just the cooking that had him on the edge of his seat though, it was also the endless scenarios of knife play running through his head. He knew he wanted to push her, to see just how far she would go, but the last thing he wanted to do was rush it. Of all the women in this godforsaken town, she was the only one who had ever held his interest for more than a few days. Now that he knew about her kink though, he was almost captivated by her.