Chapter 8
Max
“Max…? Max…? Maximiliano!”
I blinked out of my unseeing gaze at the loud sound of my full name. My eyes bounced around as I searched for the culprit, ready to punch them square in the face. I hated being called that shit. The only person who stilled called me that, without getting cursed the fuck out, was my father.
And, as expected, he was the one who’d said it.
We were sitting in the office of one of the clubs he owned.
Apparently, I’ve done well enough to learn more about the legitimate side of his businesses too.
Tonight, he was going over how he oversees the men running the books and monitoring the drug profits as the product floated throughout the club.
Money-talk was probably the most boring part of the so-called “training” he’s been putting me through.
I’d much rather be actually doing something rather than sitting here and being lectured.
It’s why I parked myself in front of the double-sided mirror that overlooked the club.
Watching the patrons mill around the vicinity, drinking and dancing, provided some entertainment.
But even that wasn’t enough to keep me from floating off into space.
I was almost surprised when my eyes refocused into reality, looked at him and saw a crease of concern lay between his brows.
“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice somewhat sincere. “You’ve been zoning in and out all night.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Talk to me.” He rose from his seat at the desk and joined me near the mirror. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I hesitated on my next words, unsure if I really wanted to have this conversation or not.
As much as I didn’t want to, there couldn’t be a more ideal time.
It was just the two of us in the office with the door closed.
The guards outside couldn’t hear us, and even if they tried, the music blaring through the speakers around the facility would drown out anything we said.
Whatever was said would stay between us.
“I…I ran into Jayden the other night,” I started, using my words cautiously to gauge his reaction.
His face didn’t move an inch. Nothing flickered in his eyes. It was as if he were hearing a stranger’s name. He continued to stare, waiting for me to finish.
“He was fighting in one of the rings I was overseeing.”
My father remained silent, still unfazed by my report.
“He went up against a man twice his size and won. When I pulled him aside, he seemed more pressed about the money than he was about his victory.”
“So, he can fight. Good for him.”
“You’re not worried about that? I mean, the kid’s what, eighteen now - barely. He shouldn’t be anywhere near these rings.”
“You weren’t much older when you came around,” my father noted. “What’s the difference?”
“I fought because I wanted to. For him, it looks like he needs to - for the money.”
“Well, like you said, he’s eighteen now. Child support has been paid in full. Which means his financial situation is not my concern.”
My brows twitched, threatening to stitch together. “You really don’t care?”
“Why would I?”
“Well, I thought -”
“I took them in and played house?” He chuckled. “Is that what your mother told you?”
No, I wanted to say. My mother did her best to conceal the real reason she packed our life up and left our father in the dust. She blamed it on everything else under the sun.
All his illegal affairs. The way he was never home.
Her dislike for the violent code he was instilling in me.
The arguments that were taken too far on more occasions than it should’ve.
“He’s not a good man,” she used to tell me. “We’re better off without him.”
As much as she tried to hide it, she couldn’t stop the truth from coming out eventually.
I remember I snuck over to his house one day for an unplanned visit and caught him with a baby in his arms and a woman who wasn’t my mother draped over him. The sight alone spoke for itself. She didn’t need to tell me anything else.
“Look,” my father said, his tone taking a serious turn.
“I don’t know what your mother told you, but I didn’t trade our family for another.
The night I stepped out on your mother was a mistake.
I was drunk and stressed and let temptation get the better of me.
That night cost me everything. Yes, I made a lot of mistakes in my marriage.
No, I wasn’t the best father to you. Yes, I hurt the both of you in ways I never meant to.
But the thought of replacing the two of you never crossed my mind.
I’ve always been here, waiting for my chance to make things right. And we’re here now, aren’t we?”
I wanted to shrug. My father and I have completely different ideas of what it means to make amends. But, if this was his fucked up way of mending our relationship, then I guess it’d do.
“I don’t want him fighting in the rings anymore,” I said.
“Alright. Then, you enforce it. The rings are yours now, remember? Run them how you see fit. But, I must ask: why do you care so much?”
Because, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances, the little runt was my brother - my blood.
I couldn’t sit around and wait until he gets an opponent who’ll actually beat the shit out of him.
Some of those men who step into the rings are ruthless.
The last thing I want is to haul his bloody body out - unconscious or worse.
I may not know him - hell, may not even like him - but I still had an obligation to at least look out for him.
My father let out a lifeless laugh. “The gap in those foundational years really made you soft, huh?” He said. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”
I rolled my eyes. “What were you saying?” I asked to redirect the conversation.
“Nothing important. Just ending my spiel.” He paused for a moment, pondering over his next words. “I know I haven’t told you this, but you’re doing a great job so far - running the rings.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“Won’t be long before I’m handing over everything else to you.”
“Hm.”
He was already losing me again. My mind was levitating back up towards the clouds, trying to get as far away from this conversation as possible.
Younger me would’ve been hooked on every word.
Back then, being under my father’s wing was one of my favorite places to be.
I’d sit and fantasize over the life I’d have working alongside my cousins and carrying on the legacy our fathers built.
But that was before they moved to the East Coast. Before my parents split.
Before life as I knew it shattered into a tiny million pieces.
Now whenever I listened to him talk, I prayed for the moment he’d shut the fuck up.
My father shook his head. “Go on,” he said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Get out of here and enjoy the rest of your night.”
Thank God.
I didn’t hesitate to make a break for the door. I had to hold back a groan when my father called my name as I reached it. Reluctantly, I looked over my shoulder.
“Don’t worry so much about what’s-his-name,” he told me. “He’s not your responsibility.”
I gritted my teeth to stop the frown from forming on my lips and nodded.
Before he could say another word, I slipped through the doorway and hurried down the hall.
Stepping outside felt like coming up for air after being underwater. As much as I was beginning to enjoy some of the duties thrust upon me, it was a lot to take in. And being in my father’s presence didn’t help.
Unlike me, he wasn’t fazed by the time we lost. The moment I reached out, he carried on as if we hadn’t spoken for over ten years.
Like I hadn’t ignored him on birthdays or holidays or graduations.
At the time, I was too blinded by rage to give a damn.
All I cared about was getting the tools I needed to right the wrongs I caused.
Little did I know, I was only opening the door to the throne I thought I’d left behind. And my father showed no remorse in making me work my way towards deserving it.
Outside, I climbed in my car and threw on my favorite playlist. Although it was almost midnight, I was nowhere near tired.
My thoughts were too loud, teeming from the abundance of stimuli it absorbed in the club.
From my father’s lecture to the lights to the music to the patrons to thinking of Jayden and realizing my dad didn’t give a damn about him either.
On nights like this, when I was overstimulated and wrestling with emotions I didn’t want to deal with, I usually put my car in drive and cruised until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Tonight wouldn’t be any different.
Letting the music drown out my thoughts, I hit the road and let my subconscious guide me through the city streets.
My foot wasn’t on the gas for long. Not even an hour later, I found myself pulling up to the curb in front of my mom’s house and shoving the gear shift into park.
I didn’t bother trying to argue with the silent part of my brain. I knew why I was here. Knew it was one of the safest places I would ever find.
I hopped out of the car, made my way into our neighbors’ backyard and climbed up the ladder.
The light on her nightstand was on, casting a soft lavender glow over her bed.
There, Audrey’s head laid over the pillow, curls covered in a bonnet and her glasses still on.
The comforter covered only her legs, leaving her torso sheltered only by a large tee shirt.
Her hand was still curled around her phone, now black from the lack of activity.
Rather than knocking, I gave the windowsill a few soft pushes, testing the locks. Back in the day, we had an unspoken code. Locked was a silent message to fuck off. Unlocked gave permission to come in.
I prayed that’s still what it meant as the window slid up. As I swung my legs inside, I promised I wouldn’t stay too long. I didn’t want to wake her. I just needed to sit in her presence for a few minutes.
Quietly, I shuffled towards my sleeping beauty. She always looked so peaceful when she slept. Her eyelashes fluttered with soft dreams. Soft snores rumbled in her nose, mimicking a tiny lawn mower. The diamond around her neck rose and fell with every breath.
I slid the phone out of her hand and set it atop the wireless charger on her nightstand.
Carefully, I pinched the temples of her glasses, slid them off of her face, and set them down beside the charger.
She didn’t stir from the movement. The loss of her items had become routine for her subconscious. She used to fall asleep reading on her phone all the time. Either I or her fathers would be the ones putting everything away so nothing would get broken.
I grabbed the hem of her comforter, pulled it up, and lay it over her torso.
A soft sigh blew from her lips from the novel warmth. Content, she nuzzled her head against the pillow.
A smile tugged at my lips at the sight of her bare face. The soft purple light streaked across her face, emphasizing the curve of her soft cheekbones.
My fingers instinctively reached for her, itching to caress her skin.
Stopping inches from her skin, I pretended to cup her face and run my thumb along her cheek.
Memories of how soft she was filled in the distance between us, followed by those of her body snuggled against mine and my arms wrapped tight around her.
We used to fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, completing each other in places we never thought we’d fill.
If I knew nights like those would be a thing of the past, I wouldn’t have taken them for granted. I would’ve held her a little longer. Kissed her harder. Caressed every single curve of her body and engraved the shape somewhere in the back of my mind.
Maybe someday I’ll have her again. Do all the things I should’ve. Value what we had instead of blowing it up at the first opportunity.
It was stupid and selfish to hope she’d come back. Especially to the idiot I was when I was younger. She deserved better. And I was going to give it to her. If she ever gave me the chance to.
Sighing, I pulled my hand away and wrapped my fingers around the circular light switch on her lamp. With a flick, all the color was gone and her face disappeared in the darkness.
I climbed back out of the window and closed it behind me.
Once I got back to my car, I hit the road again, this time with another destination in mind.
At this hour, it was technically trespassing, but I didn’t give a fuck. I easily climbed up the high fences and made my way through the rows of headstones. Although I hadn’t been here in a while, and I couldn’t see shit in the dark, my feet still knew exactly where to go.
“Hey,” I said as I reached the stone bearing his name. I sank down onto the ground and lay down in the space beside it. Staring at the stars above me, I continued, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. There’s been a lot going on.”
A soft breeze whistled through the air, carrying his voice.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ll catch you up.”