Chapter 11 #3
Zeus whined from his compartment, a soft worried sound that carried to Maddox’s ears. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw him pressed against the partition, his dark eyes locked on her.
“I’m okay,” she lied, even though she knew that he knew it was a lie.
The streets blurred past, residential neighborhoods giving way to commercial districts, then back to residential areas. She wasn’t patrolling, wasn’t really going anywhere specific, just driving because sitting still meant thinking and thinking meant—
Her chest was too tight. When had her kevlar vest gotten so tight? She tugged at the collar of her uniform shift, but it didn’t help. The air in the vehicle felt thick, too thick to pull into her lungs.
Breathe, Maddox. You know how to breathe.
But her body wasn’t listening. It was doing what it always did when a threat homed in on her: preparing for combat, flooding her veins with adrenaline, spiking her heart rate. Fight or flight, except there was nothing to fight and nowhere to flee.
Zeus’s whine escalated to a bark, sharp and insistent, designed to bring her back to the present.
“I know,” Maddox said. “I know, buddy. I’m—”
What? Fine? She’d already tried that lie.
She pulled into an empty parking lot, some closed-down grocery store with plywood over the windows and weeds cracking through the asphalt. She shoved the vehicle into park and sat there, her hands still frozen on the wheel.
Think. She needed to think.
But thinking required air, and her lungs weren’t cooperating. The vest was too tight. Everything was too tight, including her skin.
Her phone buzzed once, twice, a third time in rapid succession.
She knew without looking that it was Jade. The Phoenix Ridge PD grapevine moved fast, and no doubt someone had already told her. Maybe Riley, maybe one of the admin staff who’d seen Maddox leave Diana’s office looking gut-shot.
The phone kept buzzing, demanding attention she couldn’t give. Maddox pulled it out with shaking hands anyway.
Jade: “I heard. Are you okay?”
Jade: “Maddox, please answer me.”
Jade: “We need to talk about this. Where are you?”
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, but no words came. What could she possibly say?
She set the phone face-down on the passenger seat. Behind her, Zeus whined, low and worried. Not his alert bark or his threat warning, the sound he made when Maddox woke up choking from nightmares, when the world went sideways and he was the only thing tethering herself to the world.
“I’m here,” she said, but her voice sounded hollow. “I’m right here.”
But she wasn’t. Not really.
She was back in Afghanistan, sand and grit in her teeth, Titan’s blood hot on her hands and his weight going slack in her arms.
She blinked hard, and the parking lot came back into focus. Her phone buzzed again.
Jade: “I’m coming to find you.”
Jade: “Please just tell me you’re safe.”
The concern in her words scraped against something raw inside her chest and made breathing even harder. Zeus barked, a sharp and frantic sound, and she twisted in her seat to look at him through the partition.
He was standing now, his paws pressed against the partition, every muscle tense. He was watching her with eyes that saw too much and were pleading, “Come back, you’re leaving and need to come back.”
“I’m okay,” she said, repeating the lie as if that would make it true.
His ears flattened. He didn’t believe her; he never believed her lies.
The warehouse flashed behind her eyes. Zeus clearing the room, moving ahead because she’d sent him, and then the suspect lunging and Zeus engaging and Maddox frozen because for one second—just one fucking second—she'd seen Titan instead. Seen the explosion. Seen—
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles went white.
Everyone you love, you put in danger.
Titan. Dead because she made the wrong call.
Zeus. Nearly killed because she hesitated.
Leah. Gone because Maddox couldn't, wouldn't, let her in.
Leah's voice, three years old but sharp as yesterday. “You're too closed off. I can't do this anymore. I can't be with someone who won't let me see them.”
And now Jade, who'd gotten past the walls somehow, who made coffee the way Maddox liked it and had clothes in her drawer and looked at her like she was something worth keeping.
Jade, who was about to lose everything because Maddox couldn't keep her distance, couldn't be professional, couldn't protect the people she—
The phone buzzed again.
Her chest hurt. Actually hurt, like something inside had cracked. She rubbed at her sternum through her uniform shirt, trying to ease the pressure, but it just kept building.
Three options, all terrible. There was no path that didn't lead to someone getting hurt.
Unless…
The thought surfaced slowly, like something rising from deep water.
Unless you take the choice away from them.
If she ended it with Jade now—cleanly, definitively, no room for negotiation—then Jade's contract would be safe.
Jade could keep working, keep helping the officers who needed her, keep building the programs she'd designed.
The relationship would be over, documented as terminated, and Chief Marten would have no reason to penalize Jade for it.
Jade would be safe. She would be hurt, but safe.
And Maddox would still have her job. Still have Zeus. Still have the career that was the only thing she was good at, the only identity she had left.
It made sense. Cold, brutal sense.
End it before it ends you, before you destroy her, before she sees what you really are.
The shaking in her hands spread to her whole body. She gripped the steering wheel again, trying to anchor herself, but the logic was already lodged in her bones. The decision was already made, even though every cell in her body was screaming against it.
Zeus barked, sharp and desperate.
"I'm sorry," Maddox whispered. "I'm so sorry, buddy."
She didn't know if she was apologizing to him or to Jade or to herself.
Her phone buzzed again. She picked it up this time and looked at the screen through the blur in her eyes.
Jade: “I know you're scared. I am too. But we can figure this out together. Please don't shut me out.”
Together, she thought.
Like it was that simple. Like Maddox wasn't a grenade with the pin already pulled.
Her thumbs moved across the screen before she could second-guess it.
Maddox: “I need some time to think. I'll call you later.”
Another lie. She wouldn't call. She'd already decided.
Jade: “Okay. I'm here when you're ready. I love you.”
The words stopped her cold.
I love you.
Not "I'm falling in love with you." Not the careful hedge they'd been using, the safety net that said they could still back out if needed.
I love you.
The present tense, definitive, real…and Maddox was about to destroy it.
Her vision blurred completely. She blinked hard, forcing the tears back, and set the phone down.
This was the right choice, the only choice. Jade would understand eventually. She would move on and find someone better, someone whole, someone who didn't carry ghosts and wake up choking on nightmares.
And Maddox would survive. She always survived. It’s what she did.
Zeus had gone quiet in the back, but she could feel his eyes on her, knowing.
"It's the right thing," she said out loud, trying to convince them both. She heard through the facade.
She started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. The sun was high now, early afternoon, and she had the rest of her shift to finish.
Act normal. Be normal. Pretend her entire world wasn't collapsing.
By the time she got back to the station at the end of her shift, her hands had stopped shaking and her breathing had evened out. The decision was locked in, solid as concrete.
She'd end it tonight. She’d tell Jade it was a mistake, that they’d moved too fast, that it was just trauma bonding that felt like more than what it really was.
Lie through her teeth until Jade believed it. Push her away before everything collapsed around her.
The same thing she'd done to Leah—when the walls closed in and vulnerability felt like dying, she'd burned it down herself rather than watch it fall apart.
She knew it was the same pattern. With a different person, but the same ending.
But Maddox would still have her job, she’d still have Zeus, and she’d keep the only identity she knew, the only thing she was good at.
She knew she’d survive this, even if surviving felt like a part of her was dying.
Zeus whined softly as she pulled into the station parking lot. She looked at him in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, she could swear he knew exactly what she was planning.
"I don't have a choice," she told him.
His ears went back flat against his head, his disagreement clear even without words. But it wouldn’t sway her decision. She couldn't lose her job. Couldn't lose Zeus. So she'd lose Jade instead.
Maddox checked Zeus into the K-9 area and went through his end-of-shift routine on autopilot, giving him food and water, then checking him for injuries despite it being a slow day. He ate without enthusiasm and kept an eye on her.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she didn’t need to look to know it was Jade.
By the time she’d finished with Zeus and headed to the locker room to grab her things, she’d missed three calls and several texts.
Jade: “Please pick up.”
Jade: “I know you're scared. So am I.”
Jade: “We can figure this out. We always do.”
Jade: “Maddox, please.”
That last one sat on her screen, the word “please” staring at her like an accusation. She stood in the empty locker room. Her shift was over. She should clock out, go home, and continue through the motions. But her hands wouldn’t move.
The phone rang again. This time, she answered.
“Hey.” Her voice came out flat and distant, the same tone she used with civilians during traffic stops.
“Maddox.” Jade’s voice cracked on her name. “Thank god, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“I know. I was working.”
“Are you okay? Where are you?”