Chapter 22
MACKENZIE
The walk back to camp was quiet. Max jogged beside me, his fingers brushing mine once, as if he wanted to retake my hand but didn’t. He was breathing heavily.
My lips tingled, and my body still ached for him. I was so wet, his cum was dripping out of me, and I could barely walk. He had felt so good. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His hands were all over me, his strength supporting me against the tree. His kisses. His moans. His everything.
I had never felt such a deep connection to another person as I had with him. It was undeniable, our chemistry with each other.
And I guess we were engaged? Oh my God. We were nuts. We were both so drunk, not thinking clearly at all. But it felt… right? He had fucked the sense out of me, and I wasn’t even sure if I wanted it back.
God, we were idiots.
The campfire flickered in the distance, shadows dancing between trees. Laughter floated in the air. Megan was telling everyone how she had caught us. That we had fucked like rabbits, that she hoped I was on birth control because Max probably got me pregnant with the way we were carrying on.
“I swear to God. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. They were all over each other. It was straight-up porno level. Like, Max is a fucking freak. I’m jealous. I’ve never had sex like that.”
The laughter died as soon as we emerged from the trees.
Max’s hair was disheveled, his lips swollen. I probably looked the same. It wasn’t a secret what we had just done. You could see it all over us. Max gravitated towards me even closer now than he did before.
The first person I noticed was Heather. Her face instantly fell as soon as she saw Max.
I glanced at Max to see if he was looking at her, but he was only watching me.
The love shining from him was both disarming and endearing, and by the way he was looking at me, I could tell I shared the same expression.
We were undeniably in love with each other. My love for him surged through my entire body. His love was bursting from his skin. But a sharp laugh from the left pierced my soul, pulling me out of my love-filled daze.
“So what? You two fucking now?" Jackson’s gaze fixed on Max, and it no longer flickered with jealousy or hate. It was dark—something twisted, cold, and simmering beneath the surface.
Max remained silent. I moved to step in between them, trying to diffuse the tension, but Jackson was already approaching.
“Must’ve been something with the way you two were carrying on. You forgot you had an audience? Sounds echo through these woods. We all fucking heard you.”
Max’s jaw clenched. “Back off.”
Jackson’s lips curled into a snarl.
“Why? You think you have her now? You think that because you fucked her that she’s yours now?” He leaned into Max’s face, licking his lips. “That’s not how this works.”
My stomach dropped, and a cold wave of dread rippled through me. “How does what work?”
Jackson took another step towards me, reaching out to grab my arm, and Max lost it.
He moved faster than I’d ever seen him, a blur of aggression. One second he was beside me, and the next, he was slamming Jackson back with both hands on his chest.
“Don’t touch her,” Max snapped, his voice a low, guttural growl, territorial and savage.
Jackson blinked in surprise, then smirked defiance like someone dared him to do worse.
“Oh. Is she yours now? We’ll see about that.”
He lunged forward and swung wildly.
Max reacted instinctively, ducking the punch and answering with a brutal uppercut that cracked against Jackson’s jaw, sending him staggering back. Jackson howled in pain, clutching his face as blood trickled down his fingers.
Campers screamed and scattered in all directions, chaos erupting around us. The noise was deafening, overwhelming. When I looked up, only Megan, Max, Jackson, and I remained, caught in the nightmare.
“She’s going to scream your name while I take her apart, and you’ll be rotting in the ground, helpless to stop it,” Jackson hissed, his voice cracked with madness.
Max didn’t hesitate. He charged forward like a linebacker, wrapping both arms around Jackson and throwing him down onto the grass, forcing him into the earth with a brutal force that trembled beneath them.
They collapsed in a hissing tangle of limbs and dirt. I stumbled backward, my foot catching on a hidden root. The world spun wildly as I fell. The jagged edge of a rock at the path’s rim slammed into the back of my head with a sickening crunch. Bright pain exploded behind my eyes. I tasted metal.
I tried to rise, but my head swam. Megan was suddenly there, grabbing my arm with frantic strength. “Mackenzie! Mackenzie, look at me!” she yelped, yanking me upright.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, giving me a fleeting sense of safety. Then, Megan’s tone shifted. “You’re bleeding!”
I stared down, my vision dimming as blood darkened the hand that had touched the back of my head. Blinking painfully, stars burst behind my closed eyes. The world tilted violently, and in that moment, I saw it—something glinting sharply in Jackson’s hand.
“No!” I screamed, voice cracked with fear.
I lunged toward them, desperate to block whatever was happening, but a brutal, unfamiliar sting suddenly numbed the pain in my head. A scorching, hot pressure seized my side.
“Oh.” My breath hitched as I crumpled, clutching my side and collapsing to my knees.
Max’s scream shattered the tense air. He sounded pained, frantic, warped with terror. I tried to turn, but everything narrowed, sound tunneling into a deafening roar.
Max broke free with a burst of strength, sliding toward me like a runner heading for home, leaving Jackson writhing on the grass behind him, clutching his arm in agony. Was his arm broken? It appeared shattered.
Max reached me in an instant, his hands burning with heat and desperation, frantic as he worked at my side.
“Mackenzie… Hey, baby, look at me. It’s Max. Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
His voice was everything. It was full of terror and frantic command, cutting through the chaos. It yanked me back, holding me there with him. He pressed his palms hard against my shirt, where warmth was spreading, fingers clenched as if trying to stop the world with sheer force.
“Call for help!” someone screamed. Megan’s face hovered close, ghostly pale. I smelled smoke, grass, and the sickly metallic tang of blood. Max’s voice grew more frantic. He kept talking to me, pressing down, holding on.
Was he crying? I heard heavy sobs, echoing as black shadows threatened to swallow my vision.
I tried to speak, but only a hollow, rasping sound escaped.
My legs folded beneath me, and the last thing I saw was Max’s face looming over mine.
Blood stained his forehead, his lips parted in silent panic, eyes wide with terror.
He kept talking, voice cracking, telling me about tattoos, light, and stupid little things he loved—things that felt miles away now.
He told me how much he loved me. He told me about the first time he knew he was in love with me, and about all the babies we were going to have together. I let the rhythm of his words hold me as the world went soft and distant.
Then it all faded.
Except for his voice.