The Consequence of Revenge

by Rachel Van Dyken

  But it was a lie.

  “Just wants your money and title, yo.” I took another handful of popcorn with one hand, then opened my beer with the other. “Believe me, when things are all said and done, Elsa won’t even want you, your own sister! And what does that leave you with? Hmm? A reindeer! And no man! A reindeer!”

  Hades sighed next to me.

  “You’re different.” I patted his head. “You’re a goat, silly.”

  He started snacking on some popcorn from the same bowl and I didn’t care. Everything had gone to hell anyway.

  “Um, Max?” Milo called through the apartment. “You in here?”

  “Max died!” I yelled back. “Hades ate me!”

  Hades grunted.

  “I taste good to all animals . . .” I took a long swig of beer. “But apparently my ass isn’t made of money . . .” I sighed. “Actually it is, but not the point, is it, Hades? Hmm? Little guy.” I tickled underneath his chin. When I looked up, Milo, Jason, Colt, and Reid were in my living room.

  “ ’Sup?” I sniffed and took another drink of beer.

  “ ’Sup?” Reid echoed and looked around the room. “Are you moving?”

  “Nah.” I pointed to the stack of clothes. “I’ve been unpacking, doing laundry and whatnot.”

  “For seven days?” Milo crossed her arms. “Max, when I left a few days ago you were in the same pants.”

  I looked down and frowned at the blue plaid pajama bottoms. “But these are my house pants!”

  “They smell.” Milo shook her head. “Take them off.”

  “Aw, baby, bored with little Colt so soon?” I teased. “And your wish is my command.” I stood.

  “No!” Colt held up his hands. “He drops his drawers and I’m not helping with this intervention.”

  “Wait.” My hands paused at my waistband. “What intervention?”

  “Max.” Reid held up his hands. “You know I love you, Bro, but this . . .” He waved around the room. “It has to stop.”

  “I’m fine,” I repeated. “I’m just . . . jet-lagged.”

  Jason took a look around. “Dude, look around you. You’re living in your own filth!”

  “I’M FINE!” I yelled just as the music crescendoed on the TV.

  Reid sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Frozen? You’re drinking beer, in the dark, with a damn goat acting like a trained dog, and you’re watching a Disney freaking musical about princesses?” His voice rose at the end. “And you see NOTHING wrong with this picture? Nothing at all?”

  I looked around the room. “Well, you’re kind of blocking my view, and Olaf’s set to make his big entrance in a few, but other than that . . . no. I’m straight.”

  “You’re SAD!” Milo shouted. “Just admit it!”

  “I’m HAPPY AS A DAMN CLAM!” I shouted back at her. “I’ve got my goat! I’ve got a nice apartment. The nice lady next door said I could adopt her turtle! Things are looking up!”

  And silence.

  I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable that no one was saying anything. A long stretch of silence never boded well for a person with my personality type. It made me want to poke myself in the eye with a sharp pencil.

  “Becca’s sorry,” Milo blurted.

  Jason and Colt restrained her as she tried to run toward me.

  Reid sighed heavily. “It’s true, she told me.”

  “Me too,” Jason agreed.

  “What?” I threw my empty beer can onto the ground. “You guys all BFFs now? What, do you freaking watch Star Wars together and have naked pool parties? Some friends you are!”

  Milo’s eyes filled with tears. “But—”

  “Get out!” I yelled. “Get out of my apartment!”

  “I didn’t want to have to do this,” Reid said in a calm voice. “But you’ve left me no choice.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  To be fair, I didn’t even see the punch coming until I was falling backward onto Hades. The last thing I remember before my eyes fluttered closed is the smell of popcorn on Hades’s breath and the sad realization that it might be the last thing I remember, before I went to sleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  BECCA

  I regretted it the minute the word left my mouth. It wasn’t so much the fact that I’d chosen money over Max. It was the fact that I’d turned away from him. He’d reached out to me, offered me his hand, and I’d ignored him. Unwilling to trust him just a little bit. The crappy part? Now I had no idea what would have happened, because that one little decision changed everything.

  How bad did I suck?

  Really bad.

  But what if Max and I wouldn’t have worked out? It was a fear-driven choice. I needed the money. I needed to finish school. The thought of going back to Starbucks and working there for the rest of my life made me sick to my stomach.

  Everything had been going fine that day. I’d decided to choose Max, and then the stupid confessional had happened and I, like the rest of the girls, got to see the edited clips of what was going to be airing on TV.

  Max looked happy—with every girl.

  He was polite, sweet, sexy.

  What did I have that was any different from what those girls had? I mean, yeah, I giggled less, but in the long run I had nothing, no words from him proving that what we shared was more than a fling, or that it was more than the show. He said I was different—I’d needed more words, more reassurance. I should have asked him, but instead I’d chickened out and chosen money, the great dollar over the chance at happiness.

  Eventually I just went to Milo’s house, you know, after stalking the entire family on Facebook, and begged for his contact info. And when begging didn’t work, I burst into tears.

  Two episodes had aired on national television.

  I spent both evenings glued to the TV watching Max’s smiles. His confessionals had me laughing my ass off, but the thing that had me ready to swim in a tub of ice cream? He liked me. Really liked me. You could see it in the way he talked about me, the way he talked to me. I’d let the man of my dreams go, and it was all my fault.

  The gang, as I now referred to them, said that Max wasn’t ready to see me. I’d gotten a text earlier that afternoon from Milo saying they were going to fix everything. I wasn’t sure how confident that made me. When that group got together it seemed like more of them ended up in the hospital than actually hanging out.

  I drummed my fingertips against the table. Milo had said they all wanted to meet at a local bar. The music was hell on my ears. It was open mic night so I’d had the misfortune of hearing Taylor Swift cover songs for the past hour while people drank and clapped around me.

  I checked my phone again just as someone plopped into the seat across from me.

  I looked up. “Reid?”

  “What up, gorgeous?”

  “My weight,” I answered truthfully.

  He sighed and reached across the table. “What was it this time?”

  “Rocky road.” I sighed. “I promised myself only one scoop, but it turned into three, then four, then . . .” My voice cracked.

  “It always turns into more.” Reid squeezed my hand. “Would it make you feel better to know that Max has been wearing the same pair of ugly pajama pants for the past week?”

  “I’d feel better if he was happy.” I slouched in my chair.

  “Yeah?” Reid leaned back, releasing my hand. “So, say you got a do-over? What would your answer be?”

  I grinned sadly and shook my head. “Max. Every. Time. It would be Max.”

  “Thought so.” His smile matched mine.

  “But”—I held my hand up—“he hates me.”

  “Does he?” A deep voice said from behind my chair. I froze, unable to move. I felt the air shift as the person moved from behind me to right across from me, taking Reid’s seat.

  “Max?” I breathed.

  “Damn, you were expecting Hades, weren’t you? I’ll bring him later, swear on my life. But he’s been puking up popcorn
all night, so yeah . . .”

  “Popcorn?”

  “Sensitive stomach for a goat.” Max shrugged. “Who knew?”

  He looked good. Too good. I didn’t deserve him. I’d shattered whatever trust we both had in each other the minute I chose the money.

  “I like you fatter.” Max eyed me up and down.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ice cream, just like milk, does the body good.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry.” Max sighed. “They gave me half a pill on account I refused to calm down after Reid punched me in the jaw.”

  “Oh, my word!” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Are you okay?”

  “Well, it’s no picnic but I’m pretty sure I’d rather get punched in the face than have the girl I like stomp all over my still-beating heart, throw sand on it, stomp again, then spit in my face and walk away.” His face fell. “Not that that’s happened a lot in my lifetime. Once, only once.”

  “What if the girl”—my voice quivered as tears welled in my eyes—“was really sorry? And has spent the last seven days hating herself, and missing the guy, and the goat, and the stupid gecko, and even did a zombie marathon to prove her affection?”

  “Then”—Max leaned forward—“the guy may be listening.”

  “What if”—my heart hammered against my chest—“the girl misses the biting, the teasing, even the orgasmic climbing? What if she just wants life to be an adventure with this guy, what if she was given a second chance to say yes to Max?”

  “Would she?” Max tilted his head. “Or would she still say no? Maybe I didn’t judge her fairly, after all, an education . . .” His smile was soft. “It’s important. Of course this is coming from a poli-sci major who’s supposed to be taking over his father’s hotel empire, so what do I know? Right?”

  I looked down at the table, my cheeks heating in shame. “The girl should have found another way . . . she should have trusted her heart rather than her head.”

  “Overthinking is a total menace to society.” Max nodded emphatically. “I recommend doing no thinking. Say right now . . . I’m thinking”—he leaned in farther, his face an inch from mine—“that it’s a stupid idea to put myself out there again. I mean what type of guy puts himself on the spot only to get rejected twice? But . . .” His gaze lowered to my lips. “I’m going to choose to listen to my heart . . . meaning I can’t be held responsible for what I’m about to do next.”

  Instead of kissing me, like I’d assumed he would, Max left the table, and walked onstage with Reid.

  “Um?”

  “A poem.” Max cleared his throat into the microphone. “Reid, will you?”

  Reid nodded and began strumming some chords on the guitar he pulled from the stage as Max spoke into the microphone again. “Her eyes are brown, her face is young. When I first met her my heart said she was the one.”

  And tear number one just fell down my face.

  “But the things about numbers, sometimes they get confusing, meaning a man may not be of her choosing.” Max winked. “After all is said and done, after the cameras and the fun. It’s only fair to give said lady a second chance. So I rip open my heart, shed a bit of my soul, and stand in front of complete strangers wanting to know . . .” Max paused as the spotlight fell onto my table. “Will you? Will we? Can it possibly be . . . that in that heart of yours you’d find space for two? A space for me? The ending is yours. The story just beginning. I only ask for a continuation into what started as me and you, and ended in a complete bust. Change the ending. To a story of us.”

  It was impossible to see the stage. Tears continued plowing down my face like I was having an allergic reaction to the smoke, when really . . . it was Max. All Max.

  I should have been the one on the stage. Heck, I should have been on my hands and knees, which just proved again how amazing Max really was. He didn’t care what others thought. I think he proved over and over again that when he wanted something, he simply went after it.

  And he wanted me.

  Even though I didn’t deserve a second chance.

  “Us,” I said loudly. “I really like the sound of that.”

  “Ooh, good,” Max said into the microphone. “Does that mean the guy gets to kiss the girl now? He’s been waiting for seven whole days, and Disney encourages kissing . . .”

  Disney? What? I made a mental note to ask later as Max made his way off the stage and stalked toward me.

  He didn’t gently kiss me.

  His hands wrapped around my hips, lifting me into the air, forcing me to wrap my legs around his lean body. And he attacked.

  His kiss forceful, warm, welcoming. Perfect.

  “Now that,” a woman said from a nearby table, “was a kiss.”

  “Damn straight,” I whispered across his mouth.

  “I’m thinking . . .” Max’s teeth tugged my lower lip. “Rope, hat, boots, what say you?”

  “You want me to tie you up?”

  His eyes darkened. “Aw, sweetie, the rope’s for you. The cowboy boots? You. The hat? You . . . imagine all the trouble I can get into with just a few props.”

  My entire body pulsed with excitement.

  “Feel me?” he whispered, across my lips.

  “Hard not to.” I sighed as he lowered me slowly down his body.

  “Cute.” He gripped my hand in his and dragged me out of the bar. I almost stumbled into him as we made it to his waiting car.

  “Oh, and by the way.” Max opened the door for me. “You’re not giving the money back. That’s stupid. I’m investing it for you.”

  “You know how to invest money? And what banks are for?”

  “Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes, “I’m actually good at it . . . after getting punched in the jaw I even had a fleeting thought that I should do something like that . . . with investments.”

  “I think . . .” I pressed my palm against his cheek, “That you’ll be extraordinary at whatever you put your mind to.”

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “Because right now my sole focus is on multiple orgasms—you know, just to prove they can happen outside of the Island. All in favor, raise your hand?”

  I threw my head back and laughed.

  “Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “And you’re going back to school and you’re going to be awesome and I’m going to cheer for you when you graduate and we’re marrying at midnight.”

  “Tonight?” I gasped.

  “Near future. I just got carried away with my dominant voice. It’s so hot I almost turned myself on.” He winked.

  “Sadly, probably true.”

  “Hey, I can’t help that I have a normal and healthy obsession with my own voice.” He buckled my seat belt, his hands slowly moving from the buckle up to my face. “I like you like this.”

  “Unable to escape?”

  “Yeah.” His eyes drank me in. “Unable to do anything except sit, while I memorize every part of your face. You know, just in case you try to leave me again, no worries. I’ll just put up lost posters everywhere and offer a giant-ass reward. No escaping me now, woman. Once a Max settles down, it’s forever.”

  “Oh, good.” I laughed. “That’s . . . really, really good.”

  “Now . . .” Max pulled back and sighed. “Let’s go get those boots!”

  “Cowboy up, partner.” I winked.

  “God, I love you.”

  I froze.

  Max froze.

  The earth stopped moving.

  And then we both burst out laughing.

  “Yeah . . .” I leaned in and kissed his mouth softly. “I kind of love you too, but only if you kill all the zombies.”

  “Dude.” Max placed a hand over his heart. “Always. I will always kill the monsters as long as when you run from them you’re naked and screaming. Now that’s a visual.”

  “You’ll never grow up, will you?” I laughed again.

  “God, I hope not.” Max shut the door and walked around to the other side; when he opened it he s
tarted the car, turned, and asked, “You a fan of fro-yo?”

  Life with Max would never be normal.

  Ever.

  EPILOGUE

  MAX

  Three months later . . .

  “I think your lizard’s dead.” Colt pointed at Little G, who was chilling on his usual pillow on the coffee table.

  I rolled my eyes. “He has a name: Little G. Use it or you aren’t welcome in my home. And he’s not dead, he’s resting his eyes.”

  “Dude.” Colt shook his head. “Please don’t turn into that crazy couple who refuses to have kids and only adopts animals, then end up wearing matching shirts.”

  Just then Jason walked in. His T-shirt had a picture of Hades on it with the saying, “I’m adopted.”

  After the show we’d started a nonprofit for wild animals where kids could pick a pet, adopt it online, and then feed it and take care of it like it was really theirs. It was all virtual, but people loved it.

  Including Jason.

  Thus the shirt.

  “What?” Popcorn fell out of his mouth.

  Colt rubbed his face with his hands. “Nothing.”

  “Who’s the next Bachelor?” Becca ran into the room, nearly colliding with Jason, and jumped onto my lap, her arms twisting around my neck exactly where I wanted them to be. Milo followed and sat next to Colton, a knowing grin on her face. She’d helped me plan what was about to happen—meaning I’d renominated her to be on my zombie apocalypse team and told her we could still be friends.

  “You’re cute.” I nodded. “I think I’ll keep you.”

  She rolled her eyes, “Max, focus, who’s the next Bachelor?” Her eyes greedily scanned the TV screen.

  “Jason.” I nodded confidently.

  Jason started choking on popcorn.

  Colt burst out laughing and didn’t stop until Milo playfully swatted him. “He’s kidding, man.”

  “Ha-ha.” Jason said in a hoarse voice.

  “Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Like you could handle it.”

  Reid strolled into the room and smirked. “Because you handled it so well, little brother?”

  “Where’s Hades?”

  “Sleeping.” Reid looked heavenward. “Can’t I be without that damn goat for one minute?”