by Paige Tyler
“This almost looks like a chemical burn,” he said with a frown. “Are you allergic to alcohol?”
“I never have been,” she said. “In fact, I’ve never been allergic to anything. Whatever was in this stuff burned the moment it hit my skin.”
Max’s frown deepened. “I hope you talked to someone at the store you were in and made sure they stopped using the crap.”
Lana nodded, not looking at him as she did. Of course she hadn’t talked to anyone. What would she say? A police officer from central division spritzed me with perfume he bought from your store and it burned me? She didn’t even know which store the guy had bought it from.
“Enough about my weird reaction to some perfume,” she said, giving him a smile as she tossed her purse on the couch. “You going to tell me about this crappy day you had?”
One of the big reasons she’d come over to his place was because Max had sounded so wrung out when he’d called her earlier. She’d hoped they might get together tonight, but when eight o’clock had come and gone, she’d thought he’d gotten hung up at work and that she’d have to wait until tomorrow to see him. But when he’d called after nine and told her his day had been a train wreck and that he’d really like to see her, she hadn’t complained. While the day out with her mother had helped, Lana was eager to hang out with Max. She’d also been excited to see what his apartment looked like. Max was a unique man, and when she found herself trying to imagine his place, she simply couldn’t picture it. So she’d turned down his offer to come over and pick her up, figuring her dad would only make a complete butt of himself given the chance, and jumped in her car.
Max gave her a sheepish look, which was an entirely adorable expression on a man his size. “We can get into the details later, but to make a long story short, I kind of pulled a stupid today.”
She had a hard time picturing Max doing anything stupid. It didn’t seem possible. “What’d you do?”
“Yesterday, I went out on a domestic violence call along with a few other members of SWAT. We were there to provide backup support in case things turned violent, and when we went inside and I saw the kids, it was obvious that they’d been abused and it really pissed me off.”
Lana felt a slow burn in her stomach. When it came to people she just plain hated, child abusers topped the list. “Did you arrest the guy?”
Max shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Even though it was obvious what happened, neither the wife nor the kids would say anything, so another report was filed and we had no choice but to leave. I knew the guy would end up smacking his family around again, so when I got a call from the neighbor saying he’d heard shouting coming from inside the house, I went over there on my own.”
She didn’t like where this was going. “You didn’t go in without probable cause, did you?”
“I had cause—I heard screams,” he said. “And when I got inside, it was as bad as I’d thought it would be. But unfortunately, this guy has his family so conditioned, they won’t say a word. Worse, I kind of went a little crazy and got too physical with the guy.”
Lana groaned. “Did you get suspended?”
Now she was even happier Max hadn’t come by to pick her up at her parents’ place. If her father had gotten wind of this, he would have lost his mind at the idea of her seeing Max again.
Max shook his head. “No, I got lucky. I’m basically on probation of sorts. I have to stay completely away from the family or I will be suspended.”
She was relieved to hear that. “Why would you do something so crazy?”
He sighed. “That’s the complex part of the story, so maybe it should wait until later. How about I give you the fifty-cent tour of the place first?”
She would rather have heard the details of his day but resisted the urge to push. They had plenty of time to get into it later.
“I’d love a tour.” She grinned. “I’ve been wanting to see what your place looks like.”
He flashed her one of those charming smiles. “Well, now you’ll get your chance. But try to contain yourself. You’re already looking at about sixty percent of my apartment from where you’re standing.”
Lana waved a hand. “I’ve been living in a college apartment for the past five years. This place is the Taj Mahal in comparison.”
Max laughed and offered his arm to escort her. “If your standards are really that low, this might just work out after all.”
Lana linked her arm with his and let him lead her into the small eat-in kitchen that was connected to the living room. Painted the same off-white color, it made the transition seamless and the apartment seem bigger than it was.
“As you can see, this is the kitchen,” Max said as they walked around the peninsula separating the two rooms. “Better known as the place where all the microwavable magic happens.”
Lana laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You might have forgotten, but I’ve been close enough to those abs of yours to know you don’t eat junk food all the time.”
He gave her a heated look. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten how close you’ve been to my abs. But in this case, I’m being completely honest.”
Before Lana could call him on the obvious lie, he walked over and opened a couple of the upper cabinet doors, revealing an endless collection of chips, pretzels, cookies, boxed dinners, and canned food—of the non-fruit and -veggie variety. But on the bright side, he was obviously getting his protein, since it looked like he had enough peanut butter to feed an army. It appeared to be his favorite food.
“Not a big fan of fruits and veggies, huh?”
He looked hurt. “I looked it up, and corn can be considered either a fruit or a vegetable, depending on who you ask. So, as you can see, I have bags and bags of fruits and veggies.”
Lana raised up on her toes to get a better look. “Those are Fritos.”
“Which are made of corn,” he said smugly. “So I’m covered.”
“I stand corrected,” she agreed, since he obviously already had this all thought out. “At least you don’t have pizza boxes stacked up to the ceiling.”
Max grinned and opened the fridge, displaying four Pizza Hut boxes stuffed in there so tightly Lana wasn’t sure if they’d ever come out.
“I prefer my pizza cold,” he said.
She threw up her arms in surrender. “Of course you do.”
“While we’re talking about food, have you eaten yet?” he asked. “I’m sure I can find something to your vegetarian tastes, even in my limited pantry.”
His offer reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since lunch and definitely could, even if it meant breaking into one of his cardboard-box dinners.
“I wouldn’t mind eating, but after you’ve finished showing me around,” she told him.
“That should only take another five minutes.”
With that, Max led her out of the kitchen and back into the living room. They slowed long enough for her to take in the monster-sized TV and video game station, which in her experience was mandatory for all single guys. But he also seemed to have what looked to be a pretty good selection of DVD and Blu-ray movies in a bookcase off to the side.
From there, they walked down a short hallway with a bathroom on the right, a larger-than-average bedroom on the left, and a nice walk-in closet in the middle. Max might have a bachelor TV and game station out in the living room, but his bedroom was surprisingly nicely decorated, painted in subdued tones of olive green and earthy brown. Even the blankets on the bed had a warm tan hue that went perfectly with everything else. Along with the casual furniture, the colors made for a relaxing ambience. She couldn’t help noticing that his bed, with its thick comforter and plump, fluffy pillows, was big enough to wrestle on—at least the kind of wrestling she had in mind.
Lana quickly forced her thoughts in a different direction. If she didn’t, it was possible they might not make it out of this room for
a while.
As they turned to head back into the living room, a framed photo on the tall dresser caught her attention. In it, a teenage boy who looked a lot like Max had his arm around the shoulders of a younger girl with the same dark hair and charming smile.
“Is that you in this picture or your brother?” she asked, sure it had to be Max even though the boy in the photo was so much smaller than he was.
Max grinned. “That’s me. And I know what you’re thinking, but I was only seventeen in that picture and just starting my growth spurt.”
“Is the girl your sister?” she asked softly, remembering what he’d said the other night about his family not getting out of the crappy place where they used to live.
The smile disappeared, his face turning serious. “Yeah, that’s Sarah. She’s thirteen in this picture. It’s the last photo I have of her. She died a little while after her fourteenth birthday.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What happened?”
The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, but the moment she saw the pain in his eyes, she realized she should never have gone there.
She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m not pushing or anything.”
“I know.” His mouth curved into a sad smile. “It’s just that I’ve gone out of my way to avoid talking about the subject for so long, hoping the memories would go away, that it’s hard to open up about it. But after the day I’ve had, maybe it’s better if I finally do. And if I’m going to tell anyone the details about what happened to my sister—to my family—I want it to be you.”
Lana had a sudden, unsettling thought about the connection between his sister’s death and the bad day he’d had. She quickly pushed it aside for the moment though and focused on the feeling that came over her at his words. Here was a guy she’d recently started seeing telling her he felt comfortable enough with her to share something this incredibly private and personal. It was a powerful admission—and a little overwhelming. Once again, she was awestruck by how lucky she was to have stumbled across Max. Men this amazing didn’t come around very often. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly blinked them away before he could see.
“I’m glad you feel that way. How about we talk over dinner?” She smiled up at him. “Assuming we can find something out there to eat.”
Max laughed and took her hand. “I’m sure we can. Come on.”
That something turned out to be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and truthfully, she was thrilled. Lana hadn’t eaten a PB&J since she was a kid, and as she and Max stood side-by-side at his kitchen counter spreading spoonfuls of creamy goodness over toasted wheat bread, she had the feeling maybe she’d been missing out.
Max drowned several of his sandwiches in grape jelly before holding the plastic bottle out to her with a questioning look. She reached out and took it, figuring she’d better do it herself or risk overdosing on sugar from too much jelly.
While she did that, Max poured two big glasses of milk; then they carried everything over to the small table. She looked down at her two sandwiches, then at the big stack on Max’s plate. There was no way he could possibly eat like this all the time, not with the way he looked. Then again, maybe he had the same fast metabolism she did.
“My dad was always a mean SOB,” Max said without prompting after he’d washed down a big bite of his first sandwich. “He worked for a bookmaker off the main strip, intimidating people who were late paying off their gambling debts, breaking fingers and kneecaps when it was necessary.”
His words confirmed what she’d been thinking back in his bedroom, and Lana set her sandwich down, unable to eat. “Did he abuse you and your sister?”
Max took another bite of his sandwich, then another, seeming to take refuge in the repeated motion. “Yeah,” he said after a little while. “He abused Mom, too. I’d like to think he didn’t treat her like that from the beginning, but from as early as I can remember, he was always taking his problems out on us.”
“Didn’t anyone ever call the police?” she asked. “Or try to stop him?”
Max shrugged. “Mom would never say anything, and my sister and I assumed getting smacked around was the way it was supposed to be, so we never said anything, either. I doubt anything would have changed if we had.”
“What finally happened?”
Max took a big gulp of milk before continuing. “I had just graduated from high school and came home from my job at the convenience store to find Dad in one of his moods. Things went the way they normally did, and he ended up punching me. Sarah tried to get involved, and that only made him madder. I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t let him hit her again, so I fought back. In all the time he’d beaten us, I’d never fought back. Never.”
Max looked past her, staring blankly at something behind her, lost in old memories. “I beat him up pretty good and embarrassed him in front of my mom and sister, something he didn’t take very well. While I was checking to see how badly Sarah was hurt, Dad went into his bedroom and came back with his gun. He didn’t say a word. He just started shooting.”
Lana had known the story didn’t have a happily ever after, but this was worse than she’d imagined. “He shot your sister?”
Max looked at her, his eyes filled with pain. “Yeah. And me, too. He hit me twice before I lunged at him. I knew I was done the moment the first round hit me in the stomach, but I kept fighting, hoping to get the weapon away from him before he got around to shooting my sister, too. But he kept pulling the trigger. Sarah was hit in the head and died immediately. As my old man and I struggled for the weapon, it went off, killing him, too.”
Max said the words quickly, barely any inflection in his voice, and she could tell it had taken a monumental effort for him to say them.
She blinked back tears. “What about your mom? Was she okay?”
Max shook his head. “I was hurt pretty bad, and the doctors told her I probably wouldn’t make it. My dad and my sister were already dead, and I guess that was too much for her to bear. She took a handful of sleeping pills from the bottle she had in her purse, then went into a bathroom, dozed off, and never woke up.”
Finished with his story, Max turned his attention to his sandwiches again, slowly eating the rest of them. Even though she didn’t feel like it, Lana ate, too.
“Thank you for telling me all that,” she said when she was done. “I know it wasn’t easy, but I think I understand now why you did what you did today.”
He snorted. “For all the good it did. I only ended up making it worse for those kids the same way I made it worse for Sarah.”
“None of this is your fault.” She reached across the table to take his hand. “Back then, you were a kid taking on an adult with a gun. Now, you’re a cop following the law the best way you can. You couldn’t have done anything different in either case. You know that, right?”
He shrugged. “In my head, I know that. But sometimes, late at night, when I think about my sister, I wonder if things would have turned out differently if I hadn’t fought back, hadn’t punched my dad. What if I had turned and shielded my sister’s body with mine instead of trying to get the gun away from him? Even today, I wonder if things would have turned out better if I’d slowed down long enough to think about bringing some backup, or maybe looked in a window before shoving open that door. Maybe I would have seen enough to get the man arrested.”
She squeezed his hand. “Max, trust me when I tell you this. You can replay these situations in your head a hundred times, thinking about all the things you could have done differently. But all that’s going to do is twist your insides into knots and make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made. It won’t help anything, and it certainly won’t change the past.”
Max regarded her thoughtfully. “Something tells me you’re speaking from personal experience.”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” she admitted
. “Like you, it’s not something I talk about very much.”
“I get that.” He nodded. “I’m not pushing, but if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
For the first time in her life, she actually did feel like talking to someone about it. Maybe because something told her that Max would be able to understand more than most other people.
“You know, I think I would,” she said. “If you can tell me your deepest, darkest secrets, there’s no reason I can’t do the same.”
He glanced down at their empty plates. “You want to get a refill on our drinks and move this conversation into the living room?”
They cleared the table, then grabbed two diet Cokes and took a seat on the couch. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, sipping her soda slowly as she considered where to start her story. She hadn’t talked to a soul about this stuff since she was a teenager, and even then, most of the conversations had been with a therapist who’d been helping her put everything behind her.
Finally, she took a cue from Max and decided the best way to do this was to jump in headfirst.
“When I was sixteen, I was in a bad car wreck with two of my best friends from high school, Shari and Viola,” she said quietly. “They didn’t make it, and I barely survived. For years, I blamed myself for their deaths.”
“I’m sorry about your friends,” Max said. “But how could you blame yourself for what happened? You weren’t driving, were you?”
She shook her head. “No, I wasn’t driving. Shari was. I blamed myself for the accident because it was my fault we were out on the road that night.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, lifting his arm to rest it on the back of the couch.
Lana scooted closer, resting her head on his chest as she remembered how that night had changed her life.
“It was rainy and foggy, which made it hard to see,” she explained. “We were at the movies and only realized how bad the weather had gotten when we came out. We should have headed straight home, but we’d planned to get something to eat after the movie and were too young and stubborn to change our minds. We passed half a dozen places we could have stopped at to grab a quick bite, but I really wanted to go to this particular drive-in because they had the best tater tots in the world. I should have realized Shari wasn’t comfortable driving in bad weather, but I was so busy daydreaming about those stupid tater tots that I didn’t slow down to think about how stupid we were being.”