Chapter 23
Audrey
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The loud rapping at my window woke me out of my sleep. I groaned as I rolled over in my bed. I didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the darkness still cloaking my room, it was not time for me to be awake.
Ignoring the sound, I nuzzled my face against my pillow and tried to lean back into the clouds of sleep.
Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!
The sound came quicker, growing louder with every tap.
Annoyed, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. “Oh my god,” I fussed as I flipped on my lamp and grabbed my glasses. Shuffling to the window, I exclaimed, “Max, what the fuck do you-”
I cut myself off at the sight of his bruised and bloody face. His lip was busted, still leaking with fresh blood. Purple bruises were blooming around his cheekbones. The corner of his left eye was swollen.
My brows stitched together as I quickly unlatched the lock and pushed the window open. “Are you alright?” I asked.
He carefully swung his legs inside, moving slower than he usually does. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” he lied. He raised his hands, and I immediately noticed more bruises and cuts on his knuckles. “I just needed to see you.”
I stepped back before he could cup my face. “You need your wounds dressed.” I grabbed his hand and towed him towards my bed. “Stay here,” I commanded as I shoved him to sit on the edge. “I’ll go get my first aid kit.”
He grabbed my wrist. “No,” he insisted. He pulled me between his spread legs with one hand while his other arm wrapped around my thighs. Pressing his face into my stomach, he squeezed me tight. “Don’t go. I need you right here.”
His racing pulse thumped through his forearms and against my skin. His chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm. His fingers dug into my skin in a feeble attempt to cease the subtle tremble rumbling through them.
Sighing, I lay my arms on his shoulders and weaved my fingers through his short curls. I massaged his scalp with my fingernails. With every circle I rubbed, his heartbeat and breaths slowed. His adrenaline gradually faded away.
Once I felt his heartbeat return to its steady state, I moved my hands to his cheeks. Gently, I pulled his face out from my stomach and tilted it upward. “I need to patch you up,” I pleaded. “I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, he finally released me.
I tip-toed downstairs to grab a bowl of hot water and an ice pack. When I returned upstairs, I stopped by the hallway closet to grab a clean washcloth and our first aid kit.
Max glanced up at me as I walked back into my room. “I’m fine,” he repeated, eyeing the supplies in my hand.
“You don’t look fine,” I replied. I set the bowl on my nightstand and took a seat beside him on the bed. I held out the ice pack. “Here. Put this on your eye.”
For once, Max did what he was told. His lips pulled into the tiniest grimace from the cold touch against the swelling area.
I dipped the rag into the bowl of water and wiped the blood from around his lip. “What happened?” I asked again.
His eyes tracked my hands as they opened the first aid kit and rummaged through the contents. “Nothing I want you worried about.”
“It’s too late for that.” I located the bottle of alcohol and cracked the top open. I dabbed some onto a cotton ball. “Who did you fight?”
Max leaned backwards as I aimed the damp cotton ball toward his lip.
Not in the mood for his games, I grabbed his jaw and held him still. He hissed as the alcohol met his cut.
Torture wasn’t exactly my forte, so I quickly cleaned the cut before moving to the ones on his knuckles. “Tell me,” I commanded as I started dabbing a new alcohol-damp cotton ball along his free hand.
“Your self-proclaimed boyfriend,” he finally admitted.
“Carter? Why?”
“He approached me first, huffing and puffing about when I punched him the other night at the club.”
“And he wanted his fair one?”
“He wanted you.”
My eyes shot up to him. “Wait, what?”
Max kept his eyes locked on the floor. “He didn’t like that I’ve been pushing up on you. He tried to pull the whole ‘winner wins the girl’ shit. He put up a good fight, but he never really stood a chance against me. Inside or outside the ring.”
I scoffed. “So, that’s what this is? You came here to claim your prize?”
“Don’t start. You know it’s not like that. I just needed to see you. Needed to know I haven’t lost you.”
I crossed my arms, determined not to let his sweet words soften my stance. “Why’d you agree to fight him?”
He finally raised his gaze, flares flickering in his dark irises. “What else would you have expected me to do?”
“I expect you to act like an adult. We are too old to be fighting over stupid shit.”
“Oh, so him disrespecting you is ‘stupid shit’?”
“I didn’t ask you to defend me.”
“You don’t have to. I’m always gonna defend and protect you - no matter what.”
“And I thank you for that, but I just…I hoped you’d have grown past the petty fights by now. I hoped you finally learned how to walk away.”
“‘Walking away’ isn’t an option. Not for me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said, his voice grave. “The last time I did, Jordan died.”
My brows pinched together. “What?”
He kept his eyes glued to the floor. “That drive-by… We weren’t caught between it. I was the target.”
“What?” I repeated, appalled by what I was hearing.
His chest rose and fell as he ran back the incident in his head.
“The night before, we were walking home and, uh, one of my opponents stepped to me. He was still salty about losing and was pissed that I beat his ass again when he stepped to me in the street. I wasn’t in the mood to fight with him for a third time, so I told him to fuck off and turned my back on him.
He ran with some hard guys, and I guess I made him look soft.
He didn’t like that, so the next night he decided to take another shot at me - literally. ”
“Oh my god,” I murmured as the picture played in my mind. Jordan, with his camera around his neck, and Max, with his duffel bag over his shoulders, conversing without a care in the world. Their faces falling from laughter to fear as the car pulled up beside them.
“After Jordan died, I…I was so fucked up mentally and emotionally. Those bullets weren’t meant for him. I was the one who should’ve been buried in the ground - not him.”
“Max,” I murmured, slipping my hand over his cheek. “Don’t say that.”
“But, it’s true. He was one of the best people I knew.
He didn’t deserve to die. I remember I was so angry…
” He trailed off as the memory glazed over his eyes.
“I made a lot of decisions that I regret: not cooperating with the police, pushing you away, going to the underground fight rings to get revenge.”
My eyes widened. “You went where?”
“There’s an underground fight ring in the city.
My father’s organization runs the meets.
The night you came home, the night we got into that fight, was the first time I went.
I heard through the grapevine that the shooter liked to participate in them, so I gave him the rematch he’d been asking for. ”
The cold shift in his tone sent a shiver down my spine.
“His buddies weren’t too happy about me damn near beating the life out of him, so they tried their chances to get in the ring with me too.
I fucked all of them up too. Needless to say my dad was impressed and scooped me up while my logic was still gone.
I’ve been working for him since then - fighting, collecting debts, cleaning money, and now running the rings myself. ”
“There isn’t any way you can get out? I mean, you don’t want to be a part of this…do you?”
“Of course not, but it’s in my blood, Audrey. There is no way out.”
The truth lingered for a few moments, weighing heavy on our minds. As much as I wanted to deny it, Max was right. No matter how far Max tried to run, his father, or his shadow, always caught up to him.
Solemnity hovered over us as I finished cleaning and bandaging his knuckles. The cool touch of the ice pack tamed the swelling on his eye, and it didn’t look as bad as it did when he arrived. I put a bandage over the area to prevent further irritation.
He rose from my bed after I was done. “Thanks,” he whispered as he took a step towards the window.
I grabbed his hand before he could take another. “No,” I murmured, pulling him back. “You’re not driving again. Not at this time of night. You need ibuprofen and rest.”
His brows came together as I tugged him back down onto the bed. He watched me shuffle to the other side of the room and flip through one of my drawers. Some of his clothes were still buried at the bottom. I found a pair of pajama pants and tossed them at him.
“Put those on,” I commanded. “I’ll grab the medicine and some water.”
I didn’t look back as I rushed out the door again. I didn’t like the look on his face, twisted up with confusion - as if he wasn’t expecting for me to care for him. Despite everything that’s happened, he was still my best friend. I was always going to take care of him.
Max’s back was the first thing I saw when I walked back into the room. His muscles there flexed as he finished pulling his shirt over his head. Purple bruises bloomed like flowers across his brown skin. If I could, I’d pick every last one of them, absolving him of any pain.
Dragging my eyes away, I approached him and shoved the pills and water bottle into his hands.
I waited until he’d taken the ibuprofen to turn off my lamp, take my glasses off and climb back into bed.
I lay on the opposite end of the bed, giving Max plenty of space to stretch out, and curled up on my side.
Max followed me under the covers. He scooted through the distance between us and pressed himself against my back. His arm slithered over my hip and hooked around my waist. Pulling me closer, he pressed his face into the nook of my neck.
I had half a mind to shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. But, the nostalgia from his hold prevented me from doing so. His arm, though larger and stronger now, still carried the same security and warmth as it did when we were young.
I practically deflated as the stress and anxiety flew out of me like air leaving a balloon. I knew it’ll be back tomorrow, filling me up damn near to the point of explosion. So, for tonight, I allowed myself to relish in the safe space his arms provided.
“Max,” I murmured.
“Hm?” His chest rumbled against my back.
“How bad did you kick his ass?”
“Not too bad,” he admitted. “Nothing’s broken.”
I shook my head. “You know winning that fight tonight doesn’t change anything, right?”
“I know. But I’m willing to put the work in. You’re worth every bit of it.”
I didn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. “Goodnight, Max.”
He squeezed me tighter. “Goodnight, Audrey.”