24. Madelyn #2
“I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the pounding in my chest. My hands tremble as frustration bubbles over. Without thinking, I hurl my phone across the room, the crash ringing out in the silence.
I bury my face in my hands, fingers clawing into my hair as desperation overtakes me. Dropping to my knees, I let out a raw, unrestrained scream, the sound echoing like a release of everything I can’t hold inside.
I never understood why my mother did what she did, but it all makes sense now. I can finally understand why she couldn't stay for me because now I don't want to stay either.
Large arms wrap around me and I keep screaming, kicking my legs in my fight to get away from Miles as he tries to hold me. I don't want him to hold me. I don't want anyone to hold me. I just want it all to stop.
“Maddie, please! Please stop kicking, baby! I just want to help you!” Miles pleads with me, but I don't listen.
I just need it all to stop. I scream and kick until I just can't take it anymore and everything eventually fades to black.
My limbs feel heavy. I try to open my eyes, but they’re adamant to stay shut.
What the hell happened?
I feel uncomfortable, but I can't move my body. It feels like there's a huge weight holding me down and I can feel myself start to panic, but I can't say or do anything. My heart is beating heavily, but my breathing stays calm.
I can hear voices around me, but I can't make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Miles, but I’m not sure who the other two belong to. One is a woman, I know that for a fact.
Maybe it's Morgan?
But who's the other person in the room with us? I try to focus on my surroundings as best I can until everything starts to come in a little bit clearer.
“I just don't understand why you drugged her! She's not a fucking animal, Hudson. She's my girlfriend!”
“I'm sorry, but she was attacking you. I had to do something!”
They drugged me? But why? I wasn't attacking him?
He grabbed me.
“She wasn't attacking me, man. She was having a fucking anxiety attack because that piece of shit texted her again,” he screams, his anger evident in his tone. “We need to find him. Go get Nate and tell him to get ready. We’ll start planning tonight.”
What are they going to do? It's not like my stalker is here where they can catch him.
I hear footsteps leaving the room we’re in and it finally gets quiet in here. I know I'm not alone. I don't have to hear Miles speaking to know he's still here.
I can feel him.
A few seconds go by before I hear footsteps again coming towards me. Miles leans over me and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
“I love you, Madelyn. I'm going to end this for you. I fucking promise you that. And once all of this is over, I'm going to make sure nothing like this ever happens to you again.”
He rakes his hand along my hair, and I feel those pesky butterflies swarm my insides once again. I know he loves me—I love him too—I just can't get over his aggressive behavior.
It takes all the energy I have to try and move my hand just a little bit, but I manage to lift a finger. He seems to notice the movement because he grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.
“You awake, Princess?” he asks, rubbing my hand gently, but I don't say anything. I can't say anything. I hate this.
He places my hand back down on the bed next to me and I hear footsteps walk away from me along with the shut of a door.
I guess I'm alone now. There’s nothing else I can do other than lie here and get some rest. If they plan on going after my stalker, then I’m going to need as much as I can get for what I plan to do next.
My eyes fly open to a dark, empty room, and I feel a wave of disorientation hit me like a punch to the gut. My head is heavy, and my body feels like it’s been hit by a truck. I sit up quickly, but everything spins, and I immediately regret it.
Where the hell is Miles?
I blink a few times, trying to focus, but the haze from whatever I was drugged with still lingers in the back of my mind. My stomach churns, the overwhelming feeling of not being in control creeping up on me.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, trying to push past the fog, but everything feels off. Standing on unsteady legs, I grab my phone from the end table.
“Shit,” I curse, staring at the shattered screen.
A frustrated sigh slips past my lips. Did I do that? The memory is hazy, but fragments begin creeping back—me panicking…maybe throwing my phone? I don’t know. Everything feels cloudy, like I’m trying to remember through thick fog. I can’t afford a new one, so this one will have to do for now.
With shaky hands, I open the text messages, and the second I see the unknown number, the anger hits me like a freight train.
I go through the messages one by one, each word igniting a rage I’ve never felt before.
It brings everything back—the memories of my father, of the helplessness I felt watching him tear my mom down.
That’s exactly what this feels like. The same powerlessness, the same fear of being controlled, of being too small to do anything about it.
My blood boils beneath my skin, and it takes everything in me not to throw the phone across the room for a second time.
I will not be her. I won’t let the same thing happen to me.
Standing up straighter, the fury inside steadies me. Weakness is not an option. I won’t be the broken woman who watches helplessly anymore.
I change into a pair of shorts, a tank top, and tie my hair up. I need to move. I need to focus. My mind is racing, and maybe the gym will be the place where I can get some control back.
I head downstairs, and I hear the soft sounds of weights clanking from the gym. Miles must be down there. Part of me doesn’t want to face him, but another part of me wants to see him, even if it’s to tell him exactly what’s been running through my head.
I spot him the second I open the door. His back is heavily inked, a massive tattoo of a Hannya mask surrounded by flowers stretching across his skin. Every time he pulls the bar down, the mask moves with him in a beautiful rhythm that hypnotizes me.
I can’t stop looking at him and for a second, I forget why I came down here. He looks so good with sweat glistening on his skin, his body powerful and toned. Suddenly, he lets go of the weights, the sound of them clanging to the floor snapping me out of my daze.
He turns, finally noticing me standing there.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asks, his voice full of worry as he walks towards me. I stay rooted in place, my chest tight, the anger still bubbling inside me.
“I feel okay,” I say, my voice steady but colder than I expect. “But I need to talk to you, Miles.”
He steps closer, the concern deepening in his eyes. I force myself to stay steady as I speak, but my words come out sharper than I intended.
“Earlier, when you grabbed me, it triggered something. It made me remember—” I clean my throat, the image of my father making me want to puke.
“My dad, and how he used to control my mom. And I saw it in you. The same power, the same control. I can’t be that person. I can’t let myself turn into her.”
I watch his face fall as he processes what I just said.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “I don’t need an apology. I need you to promise me this won’t happen again. That you won’t do that to me. Ever.”
His eyes darken with guilt and he reaches for me, but I take a step back, needing space. “Please, Miles. This ends now. I can’t be around someone who’s like him. You need to understand that.”
“I swear to god I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice thick with regret. “I would never hurt you, Maddie. You have to believe that.”
His words are full of pain, and something inside me softens. The anger starts to fade, replaced by a need for understanding. I step forward, taking his hands in mine, looking him in the eye. I need to know the truth.
“Will you do something for me?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm inside.
His eyes harden with determination. “Anything, baby. What do you need?”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what I’m about to demand. “Tell me what the pills are for.”