Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I can’t sleep. After Maddox sent me that text, he went radio silent.
I responded–quite a few times, actually, but no response.
In fact, the messages aren’t even showing as delivered.
I freaked out at first, but then Maddox’s car rolled into the driveway, and he silently went to his room and closed the door.
Of course, I wanted to follow and ask him all about how it went and nurse him back to health with milkshakes and chocolate.
But I didn’t, and it’s eating me alive.
So, instead, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m gnawing on the inside of my cheek while my fresh tattoo burns, wondering if I should dye my hair. What color should I do? Blue, to match Princess?
There’s a high-pitched sound from Maddox’s room.
I sit straight up, my heart pounding. What was that? For a moment, everything is quiet. Then, it happens again, and this time, it sounds like a cry. From his spot next to me, Princess raises his head.
I’m out of bed before I realize what I’m doing. I make it halfway to the door before I stop.
Maddox has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want my help, and I’ve seen what happens when I help–it’s not wanted. All it does is push Maddox away, just like it pushed Tyler away.
I stand there listening to Maddox whimper, and my hands shake. I hate this. I hate listening to him suffer. It makes every nerve ending in my skin feel like it’s on fire, and a doom chant goes off in my mind: not safe, not safe, not safe. It builds and builds and builds.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this; I need to do something, even if it ruins our relationship. I’m not the kind to watch people suffer, but that doesn’t mean I have to be stupid about what I do.
Then, a plan forms, and suddenly, my body is calm again. The heaviness lifts, and I can feel all my fingers. I’m in my bedroom, which smells like clean laundry and a little bit of sawdust from the bed frame, and I can clearly see my next move.
I stalk down the stairs, hearing the thump of Princess jumping off the bed to follow me. I need a little bit of distance to make this call in case Maddox overhears me. In the kitchen, I grab Princess a celery stick, which he grabs with both hands, and then unlock my phone.
If Logan’s not going to kill me, then maybe we can work together. I saved his life, and he’s my friend. Surely that’s worth something.
It’s past two AM, but I press call anyway.
The phone rings so many times I think he won’t pick up. Then, Logan’s sleepy voice comes across the line. “Micah?”
“I need your help.”
There’s silence, then–CRUNCH. Princess takes a bite of his snack.
“Are you okay?”
CRUNCH, SMACK.
“Yeah.” I purse my lips and wave my fingers at Princess, who ignores me and continues to open-mouth chew. “I mean no, but yeah.”
SLURP, crunch, crunch.
“Are you drunk?”
“No! There’s someone…a bad person…he hurt someone I care about.”
I wince. I sound like a child, but I’m suddenly remembering that phone conversations aren’t exactly private, and if I want to ruin this guy’s life without ruining mine as well, I’m going to have to be careful about it. “Can we talk in person?”
There’s such a long silence, interrupted only by Princess’ chewing, that I question everything. Did I not read Logan correctly? Even if I did, why the heck would he help me? I hear shuffling and some muttered voices.
“Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”
“Wait, what do we kn-n-n-ow?”
“Nothing,” Logan’s voice is muffled. “Would you guys chill?”
Then, there’s a long sigh at the end of the line. “Fine. We can talk at the shop. Twenty minutes.”