by Karina Halle
“You don’t get to make that choice. He does. And he’s not going to choose you. He’s not going to choose Rose. He’s going to choose me.”
My eyes narrow, hate swirling inside me. “I see. What is your name anyway?”
“Michelle.”
“Oh yeah? Well, fuck you, Michelle.”
And then I throw my drink in her face.
Steam rises from her skin, cracks surfacing showing ugly oozing tar underneath. She hisses, snapping at me with shark teeth.
I stand my ground, knowing she’s probably not going to try and eat me in this crowded bar.
Probably.
I lower my voice. “The next time I see you, I’m going to kill you,” I tell her. “And if you do anything to him, then I’ll really make it hurt.”
Then I push away and start walking to the front doors, wanting to get away from her, wanting fresh air, just as Max comes striding out of the office.
He doesn’t look happy.
In fact, he’s nothing but inner turmoil come to life. I can tell that from here.
I turn to look behind me at the demon lady, Michelle, but she’s gone.
Max doesn’t even stop to look at me, I don’t even know if he sees me. He keeps walking until he’s outside.
And then I’m running out of the bar after him, just in time to see him round the corner, his legs long and covering so much ground.
“Max!” I cry out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back until he stops.
He stares down at me, and I’ve never seen him look so lost. His eyes are nearly black, all of him seems to recede into the night.
“What happened?” I ask him, immediately grabbing his hand, cupping it between mine, hoping my energy will bring some life back into him. “Talk to me.”
“Nothing happened,” he says simply. “I just want to go to sleep.”
He makes a move to go, but I hold on tight. “Don’t try and leave me behind, Max. Not this time. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
He chews on his lip for a moment before he nods. “Okay.”
He repositions his hand so he’s holding mine and we walk back to the hotel.
“Are you going to tell me what happened in there?” I ask.
“Nothing happened,” he says.
“Something did happen. You’re…”
“I’m what?” he asks, eyes hard.
“You just…this was the point of the whole trip. Coming to see Rose, coming to get your stuff. Of course, now I find out that you never had any stuff at her place. That you broke up long before.”
“I told you that.”
“No, you made it seem like you were still together. Complicated but together.”
“You filled in those blanks.”
“You let me fill them in! So why did you lie to me?”
He stops walking and I nearly collide into him. “I didn’t lie to you, Ada.”
“Are you sure? Because nothing went down in there like I thought it would. Why did you want to come here, Max? What’s your plan?”
“I just want to go to sleep,” he says to me. “Please. I’m tired.”
I close my eyes and sigh, feeling exhausted too. “Okay. Yeah. Fine.”
He’s not the only one who had a fucking batshit day.
We start walking again, taking the quieter streets. I don’t ask any more questions because I know I’ll either get silence or one-word answers. It’s obvious he’s trying to process a lot and I guess if I want more from him, I’m going to have to wait. Wish I could have gotten Rose’s number so I could talk to her about him. Then again, I don’t think Max would appreciate that very much.
When we finally get to the room, I’m reminded about the whole ‘only one bed’ problem. To think, earlier today I thought that he wouldn’t be coming back with me, that he’d go spend the night at Rose’s. How wrong was I?
Can’t say I’m exactly upset about it either. I just wish Max would let me in. I feel like now more than ever I’m being pushed back into the darkness while he’s drowning in his.
Max heads straight into the washroom, which gives me a chance to change out of my ruined shirt and into my tank top and booty shorts. I figured I’d buy new pajamas at some point, but there hasn’t been time. Maybe tomorrow.
You could sleep naked, I think. But with the way Max is acting, I don’t think that he would like that very much.
I pull back the covers, staking claim over my side of the bed, then wait for him to come out of the washroom. I need to take off my make-up and all that, but I know when I go to do that he’s going to fall right asleep.
Finally, he comes out, walking to the bed, discarding his boots, undoing his jeans, taking off his shirt so fast that I flinch, thinking he’s popped all the buttons, and then he’s just in black boxer briefs and that’s it and I know I shouldn’t stare but my god. How can you not? He’s a fucking work of art.
But if he knows I’m ogling him, he doesn’t seem to care. He barely even looks at me, barely acknowledges me. Just gets into bed, back facing my way.
“Max,” I say softly.
Silence.
I could keep him awake.
I don’t know why I’m so afraid to go to sleep.
Why I’m afraid to let him sleep.
Something about the darkness…
“Max,” I say again. “I saw the demon lady when you were with Rose. She told me you would choose her. Choose Hell.” I pause, waiting for a reaction. There is none. “Why would she say that?” My voice is so quiet in the room.
He moves slightly. Then, “I don’t know, Ada.” Barely audible.
He doesn’t even care that I saw her.
That she told me that.
Something inside me starts to crumble and I fight to keep it together.
I get up, go into the washroom, take off my makeup, stare at myself in the mirror, at the leftover smudges of eyeliner that won’t budge.
Am I going to be enough for him?
Can I be his savior?
Can I really be anyone’s savior?
Maybe just myself.
Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe I need to save myself to save him.
How the hell am I going to do that?
I rest my head against the glass, closing my eyes, trying to gather strength deep inside of me, hoping that there’s enough energy to keep everything going for another day.
I feel like tomorrow I’m going to need it.
I straighten up, do my business, get a big glass of water, then come back into the room.
Max is sleeping, still on his side.
I get in bed, under the covers.
Then I slide over to him, pressing my chest against his back, putting my arms around his, holding him tight through the rest of the night.
Seventeen
“Dancing on wire, both ends are on fire. Cut me loose.”
– I Appear Missing
I barely sleep.
I’m awake most of the night, afraid that if I drift off, that I may never drift back. And if I do drift back, that I won’t find Max in my arms anymore. That he’ll have dissolved in the night and I’ll have nothing. Just a memory of who he was.
So, I hold on to him, my skin pressed against his, feeling the slow exchange of energy, like his heart is beating inside my own chest. Sometimes the darkness comes for me and pulls me off to sleep, but I don’t dream, and before I know it, I’m opening my eyes again, feeling his body rise and fall with his steady breath.
Eventually, dawn begins to light the sky outside the window.
And yet, there is no light in this room.
It’s dark, heavy, black.
Whatever happened to Max last night with Rose has followed him here, has slept inside him, and I don’t think the daylight will make anything look brighter.
Eventually, Max stirs, rolls over.
Opens his eyes and looks up at me lying beside him.
Frowns. As if I’m just an illusion.
“Didn’t
expect to see me?” I ask softly.
He blinks at me. “Good morning.”
Then he sits ups, the bed tilting slightly as he swings his legs over the side, propped up by his arms. His back to me, he hangs his head. Breathes.
“Max,” I say, gingerly placing my hand between his shoulder blades, trying to give him energy.
But to my surprise, he stiffens.
Becomes a wall.
And the energy jumps back into my hand, traveling through my arm and back into the core of me.
Oh no.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. “Are you doing that on purpose?”
He puts his head in his hands.
“I don’t need it,” he mumbles.
“You don’t need it?” I repeat. I move my legs so I’m sitting right beside him, trying to keep my eyes focused on his face and not on the impressive and intimidating heat he’s packing in his boxer briefs.
I place my hands on his cheeks, making him face me, trying to give him that energy again.
He reaches up and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands an inch off of him, his eyes turning dark, a snarl to his lips.
“Don’t you dare.”
“I wasn’t,” I protest. “I swear. I wasn’t trying to read your mind. I just want to help. You’re drained, you’re exhausted, you need me.”
He swallows, clenching his jaw. “You’re right. I do need you. And that’s why this has to stop.”
“What has to stop?”
Us? Is there even an us?
“You keeping me alive,” he says.
Then he gets up, walks across the room to the window. I can only stare at him, not understanding. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He doesn’t say anything.
I get out of bed and storm over to him, grabbing his arm, trying to get in front of his view. “What does that even me? You want me to stop keeping you alive?”
He grinds his teeth together, his eyes refusing to meet mine.
Panic takes over.
“Look at me!” I yell, grabbing hold of his other arm, trying to wrench him around to face me.
He looks at me and in his eyes I just see the emptiness.
So much emptiness.
It startles me to my very bones.
“What happened to you last night? What did Rose do to you?”
“She did nothing to me.”
“Didn’t…you seemed to know she wasn’t going to take you back.”
“I never thought she was going to take me back. I never wanted that. I don’t want her, Ada. That’s said and done.”
“Then why?” I ask, pressing my fingers into him in desperation, as if he’s about to disappear. “Why did we come here? It wasn’t about your stuff. It was never about your stuff. If it wasn’t about Rose, then what was it?”
He closes his eyes, brows knitting together.
“I needed closure. I needed to say goodbye in person. I never got the chance before.”
“Stop it!” I cry out, shaking him. “Stop talking about goodbyes like you’re leaving forever!”
When he opens his eyes, he has tears in them.
Oh fuck no.
“Max, come on. Please.” I grab his hands, holding tight. “Tell me what’s happening to you. Tell me that the demon lady was a liar.”
“A liar about what?” he says hoarsely, voice low.
“She said when I leave this city, that I’d be leaving it alone.”
He stares at me and the emptiness changes, makes room for sorrow.
I feel my heart breaking.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. But she’s right.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head over and over, feeling panic claw through me, making me sick. “No. She’s wrong. You’re coming with me. I won’t leave without you. I won’t.”
“You will, Ada. I got my closure. Now it’s time you go.”
“Fuck that. And fuck you for saying that!”
His face remains still, impassive.
“You can’t save me,” he says, voice grave. “I’m not worth saving. I’ve got nothing to offer you. Nothing to offer anyone. Destiny is a cruel sick joke.”
“Don’t say that,” I tell him, my voice breaking. “Don’t say that. It’s not true. You’ve got so much to offer, everything to offer. I need you as much as you need me.”
“You’re thinking of someone else.” He breaks out of my grip, walking away toward the bed.
“I’m only thinking of you! I’ve only been thinking about you! You’re everything to me, Max, don’t you dare try to convince me otherwise, tell me I don’t know what I’m feeling. I know what this is, I’ve felt it since the moment I pulled you out!”
“And why did you pull me out!?” he roars, turning around to face me, rage and desperation distorting his features. “You should have left me there!”
I shrink back, my heart shaking inside me. I try to breathe.
“It was Jacob that brought you out,” I say weakly. “I just finished the job.”
“You should have left me in the house,” he growls, eyes flashing. “I would have been pulled back. Back to where I deserve to be.”
“Hell!?” I exclaim. “You don’t deserve to be in Hell, Max.”
He strides over to me, the room shaking. “And you have no fucking idea who I am, Ada! What I’ve done. You think you can just live for hundreds of years and stay a good person, with no consequences. I have done things I deserve to suffer eternally for!”
There’s so much raw and exposed nerve here that I swear I feel that black void inside him starting to seep out into the room, threatening to get me too.
But I have to stand my ground.
For him.
“I know you, Max,” I tell him, taking a step toward him, trying to get him to see how badly I need him here, how much I believe in him. “I’ve looked inside you. I know what you have to live with, I know you’re suffering right now. So much. But we’ve all done things we regret doing. I know you’re a good person, I see so much good in you, you’ve just buried it away. You’re alive now, you’re here, you’re free. This is your second chance.”
“I’m not free! I’m chained to you. I’m nothing but a burden to you, Ada.”
I shake my head, clenching my jaw. “You’re not a burden, how dare you say that! I care about you so much, so, so much. I will keep you here, Max, I will keep you safe.”
“No,” he says. “You need to leave me here. This was the point of it all. To leave me here.”
“If I leave you, you’ll die.”
“I know.”
His eyes meet mine.
They’re hard.
Cold.
Determined.
But so am I. I steel myself against him. “Then it’s not going to happen. I won’t let you give up on yourself. I will be the one that saves you no matter what you try and do.”
He stares at me for a moment with wild eyes, then turns away in frustration.
I climb up on the mattress walking right over to him, holding his head in my hands. It’s a low bed and we’re at roughly the same height now. I force him to look at me.
“Please,” he says, closing his eyes, line deep between his brows. “Just let me go.”
“I won’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he says. He opens his eyes, and I feel every drop of his pain as he gazes at me. “You’re so fucking beautiful. So smart. So talented. In every single thing you do. I can’t live knowing that I’ll always be there because I have to be. I’ll only hold you back.”
I run my thumbs over his cheekbones. “You won’t hold me back, Max. You’ll hold me exactly where I need to be. Please.” I lean in and kiss him softly on the lips just as a tear spills out from my eye. “Please,” I say against his mouth. “Do this for me. Stay for me.”
He places his hands over my forearms and I feel his strength, his warmth.
His hesitation.
I pull back, searching his face until he meets my gaze.
“
Stay for me,” I say again.
He looks down at my mouth for a moment, then nods. Licks his lips.
Okay.
Okay.
I’m still shaking on the inside, but that energy quickly gets channeled into heat.
I kiss him again, and this time he kisses me back.
Slow, tentative. Just a brush of the lips, a quick slip of the tongue.
It’s enough to get me wet.
I breathe out slowly, gazing up at him.
“You’re not dying before I get a chance to have sex with you.”
Then I am stepping back on the bed, taking off my tank top and throwing it on the ground beside me. I’m topless in front of him, bare and exposed.
His gaze turns to one that’s darkly carnal, nearly menacing. He takes me all in, and I do the same in response. He’s already so hard I don’t think his boxer briefs will be able to contain him for long.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks gruffly, reaching out to touch me, running his wide palms over my breasts, and closing them in over my ribcage before gliding down my waist, marveling at me as he goes.
“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely. “Yes. I want you.”
I love you.
I love you.
Oh my god.
He meets my eyes, coming alive, and I’m so afraid that we both found out how I feel at the same time. The realization is like someone has taken a sledgehammer to my chest, freed every winged thing that was held captive inside me.
I love him.
Fuck.
Then he’s kissing me.
Hard.
Overtaking me.
Pushing me backward on the bed until I’m falling onto the covers.
He’s on top of me in a flash, knee between my legs, spreading my thighs, hands taking hold of my wrists, holding them above my head.
I barely have time to breathe before he’s kissing me again. Tongue sinking deep into my mouth, all pretenses and formalities gone. He’s going to consume me, and I’ve been aching to be consumed.
One hand skirts over my breasts, thumb circling my nipple, kneading the skin and his mouth slides along to the corner of my lips, wet, biting, kissing, licking. My chin, my jaw, I’m sampled, tasted, devoured with urgency that glows between us both, a kick start to the heart.
I gasp for air, arching my back, opening my lungs, and yet it’s like I don’t even need to breathe, I have everything I need right here.