Chapter 28
Delaney
After Maddox stormed from the cabin, I managed to swallow down the last of the pizza dangling from my hand.
Thankfully, Romeo gave me some space to process everything, but I don't know how to reconcile the man who said those horrible things with the guy who touched me like I was his treasure.
I guess everyone was right and I should have heeded their warnings before.
The problem is, he may hate me, but I don’t hate him…and my soul aches knowing there’s not a damn thing that I can do about it.
Now it’s been two days since the fallout and Mom has called and left me three voicemails.
With Romeo out back, I dial her number and exhale slowly. I love her so much, but I don’t know how to see past everything that’s happened and it's this that keeps me rooted firmly anywhere but in their home.
How can I participate in this farce knowing what I do?
“Delaney?” she says, and I swallow before saying quietly, “Hey.”
“How are you, sweetie?”
Tears well in my eyes at her gentle tone and I wipe them away angrily as I mutter, “Fine.”
She sighs her displeasure but I’m immune. She can pretend disappointment all she wants but the only person who deserves to feel that emotion is me.
I believed her all these years while she lied to my face. Why?
“Look, I heard from the school,” she says. “Why haven’t you been there?”
In a perfect world, I could spill my troubles to her, but this is far from perfect.
Besides, for all I know, telling her would only bring danger to their doorstep and as angry as I am, I don't want them to die.
Would Ice use me to get to Joey? I don’t know but I can’t take the risk because Joey is long fucking gone.
Since I can’t admit that I’m holed up with the Saints, I lie and say, “I’ve been sick.”
Does she know that Joey is missing? Why was Ice at our house?
After a moment, she clears her throat and says, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Maybe some homemade soup?”
“No, I’m good.”
How many times has she nursed me back to health? Before shit hit the fan, she was just my mom, and I loved her as much as I believe she loved me.
How do I reconcile that with what I’ve seen and heard though?
“Delaney…” she says but I interject.
“What are you hiding from me, Mom? Is Joey my dad?”
The pain grounds me, when I clench my fingers into a ball and I suck back another bout of tears when she says, “Why don’t you come home? I know you’re confused but we can talk about it.”
“Can we?” I ask, shaking my head but before she can answer, movement from the door catches my eye.
Meeting Maddox’s narrow eyed gaze, I freeze until he lifts a brow, and I say, “Gotta go.”
“Delan–”
With a wince, I hang up before he rips the phone from my hand and says, “Who the fuck was that?”
“Hey,” I say, reaching for it, but he steps back and holds it over his head.
“Who?” he growls.
“Chill. It was my mom about school.”
“Your mom?” he asks, cocking his head.
“Yeah.” What’s his deal? Geez.
He glances at the phone and then at me before leaning in until our mouths touch to say, “She MC?”
When I shake my head, he sneers, “If she ain’t MC, why the fuck are you here?”
Rearing back, I stare at him dumbly. Where did all this hate come from?
“Look,” I say, pressing my hand against his chest.
I need freaking air because despite his bone deep hatred, even my traitorous palms tingle from the heat of his skin.
When his nostrils flare and he glances at my fingers, I shove against him and bark, “Sorry, am I cramping your style?”
Uh oh, I’ve riled the beast and when his eyes darken, I scoot back too late because he grabs my wrists and attempts to pin me to the mattress.
With a trickle of unease, I wrench away and crawl across the bed, muttering, “Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” he roars, and I shrink back when he climbs onto the bed.
“Yes, fuck you!” I snap. “You want to know why I’m not home? Because my mom was so high out of her mind she didn’t notice when my brother wandered into the backyard. She didn’t know when he fell in the pool. She didn’t fucking know that…”
My throat closes on the last and I crawl away before falling to the floor on the other side.
On my hands and knees, I stare blindly at the wall as he rounds the bed.
“When the police assumed it was me,” I mumble, touching my chest, “she didn’t deny it. She let them think…”
The words are too painful to repeat, and I trail off, bowing my head as Maddox rasps, “Princess…”
My heart hurts to see him standing there, achingly still but I can’t change how he feels, and I don’t want to expose anymore of my pain, which is why I whisper, “Just leave me alone.”
When he doesn’t respond, I lean my head against the mattress behind me, only to open my eyes when he drops to his knees and grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
Those deep dark eyes contain emotions I can’t define, that I have no right to understand, and I shiver when he runs his finger along my bottom lip.
When his brows furrow, I suck in a breath, wishing he could see past my supposed affiliation with his enemy to the girl underneath.
At the same time, my throat burns to push him away because my soul aches for his touch and I hate myself for the weakness.
This is why I bat at his hand as he says, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I mutter. “My brother or my mom? Or maybe for humiliating me in front of Romeo?”
I feel no victory when his brows slam over his eyes and he pushes to his feet.
Instead, I watch him go with my heart in my throat once more, immune to his rage as he slams his fist against the wall and says, “This is so fucked up.”
Silently I agree, rubbing my chest when he walks away, leaving me alone…again.
A couple of days pass while I exist in a haze of boredom and misery. Romeo is my companion for most of it but occasionally, he leaves, and another brother takes his place.
So far, they’ve only been kind and somewhat standoffish.
I haven’t seen Maddox since he left and Draven hasn’t come by, assuming she knows where I am.
Maddox’s angry words follow me from room to room as I wander and wait for what happens next.
I guess Joey was right. I wish that I had never made the connection between him and the Aces.
Although it wouldn’t have stopped the series of events that brought me here and despite how cold Maddox has become, I can’t regret meeting him.
I know it’s weird but my choice of sleeping arrangements includes Draven’s goth room, a master bedroom that I assume Joker has occupied and Maddox’s old room.
Covered in posters of old cars and skimpily clad chicks, that first night when I felt achingly alone, I wandered in there and fell asleep across the covers.
Ever since, this is where I gravitate back to when I want to be alone.
Luckily, Maddox hasn’t been back to see me hanging out here.
After another challenging game of chess where Romeo beat my ass again, I escape to Maddox’s room.
Who is Maddox? What motivates him?
Since I don’t have anything better to do and these people put me here, I might as well try to find answers.
It won’t change the outcome but maybe it will lessen the ache that has taken up residence in my chest since he left me to my grief with nothing but a pathetic half assed apology.
I know he’s upset. I just don’t know why.
Every time I try to push him from my thoughts, I remember how he brought me home after the incident at the warehouse and cared for me in his way while I fell apart.
He’s lashing out, quite brutally at that but he’s also a protector and somewhere in between those things lies the true Maddox.
His full-sized bed sits against one wall with a tiny table beside it, upon which a lamp sits.
I smile and touch the glass panels, imagining him playing with the same cutesy little teddy bears adorning it.
Inside the dresser, I find his clothes neatly folded and run my fingers over the t-shirts before moving to the last drawer.
I can’t help my chuckle and glance at the closed door guiltily before dropping to my knees and pulling out the girly magazines.
I suppose it’s weird to feel a little thrill knowing he touched these pages while aroused and I shiver at the images of his hard-on the nights we came together before shoving the magazines back in the drawer and standing.
The top of the dresser appears to be where he emptied his pockets, and I sift through the coins and papers before stopping on a photo.
A young Maddox grins at the camera, his tiny arms wrapped around the neck of a striking woman who’s waving with her own silly smile.
The resemblance is too close, matching the painting over the fireplace in the living room, not to see that this is his mother and with my heart in my throat, I move away.
An old sweatshirt lies on a chair in the corner, and I pause at the closet, closing my eyes.
This isn’t for me, this little peek into his world and I can’t imagine he would be pleased to know that I infringed on his privacy.
With a sigh, I grab the sweatshirt and stuff it under my arm before crossing the hall and into Draven’s room.
I don’t think she’ll be pleased either, but I can handle her rage, not so Maddox's because with every breath of his hate, my soul shrivels that much more.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty they say, and I wish I hadn’t confessed everything to Maddox and his friends.
Now he hates me and although I’m far away from the Aces, I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t my prison.
How the hell did I get here?
I mean, I knew Joey wasn’t exactly a standup guy, but I assumed he was just a drunk, not a possible killer affiliated with other killers and hiding out in plain sight.