Max Dread
W as I supposed to mention that? No.
But did I fucking care?
Landon’s face drained of color, going white as a ghost as soon as the words left my mouth, and regret hit me before I blocked it out.
I should have kept the damn thing shut, but the call had been fucking with my head.
That bastard’s call had been the catalyst, and I’d barely been able to look at Quinn at first, grateful for the distraction of the escape room to keep her from, well, not noticing. She’d certainly done that, but it had given me a reprieve to sort out the bullshit in my head.
Not that I’d succeeded.
And then she’d come into the bathroom like the goddamn Queen she was and brought me to my knees. For one brief moment, I’d thought it would all be okay.
That the mistakes I’d made, the choices…
Except suddenly tonight, everyone was concerned about my goddamn feelings. Ben was on his usual shit. Peter was trying to ease what had to come next. Of course, Golden Boy had noticed. And he had to bring up shit neither of us needed to think about. Like what I’d do to save her life.
Because the answer to that was worse than he thought.
I didn’t want the truth this time. Not from him. Not if it drove home that I’d fucked this all up before I’d even met her. Before I’d gotten to know her. Before I’d fallen for her.
Tying myself to those two assholes had already brought up questions about what I’d thought my whole life. It had already poked holes in the anger, the resentment I’d held onto like a pitchfork as I’d made a deal to ruin them. For what they’d done last year. For what they’d done when we were kids.
No, I didn’t want the truth.
Because if I didn’t hate them? I’d only hate myself more.
I deserved it. I’d made mistakes I couldn’t take back. But I hadn’t meant for this.
I’d never meant for this.
As Landon stumbled backward, he gripped his head like he was in pain, and the familiar sting of nails dragging down the back of my neck lanced through me. Rage boiled inside me, but at the same time, I watched it bleed out of him, one hand clutching his throat as he tried to breathe.
But all that came out was a tight, pained gasp.
My eyes narrowed. Heart jackhammering in my chest, I forced away the two worst memories of my life.
Landon’s hands shook as the need for air became desperate, and I had to accept this wasn’t some bullshit act.
I didn’t fucking care. Not about him. Not about Kingston. I didn’t fucking care about them.
But she’d be pissed if I let him die, so.
I rushed him, glaring at him as his eyes bulged. “Threaten me again, and I’ll let you die gasping for breath.”
My hand clamped around his throat, squeezing and holding in my next inhale. What I’d seen him doing with Quinn to help her. I’d learned once how to slow a racing heartbeat.
That had to be the same as getting him to chill the fuck out.
I pressed down as I growled in his face, wishing I hated him enough to do it. Wishing I could be the fucking villain after what he’d said—what he’d done. Three…
He gripped my wrist and forearm, his eyes rolling back.
“This is panic, asshole.” Two...one. “Now, fucking breathe.”
And I released him.
He coughed violently, gasping for breath as he pitched forward. His knees hit the ground, and eyes wide, he stared up at me as he struggled to pull in air.
I knelt down beside him.
“That’s the one and only time I plan to save you, Golden Boy. We’re not friends. I’m not on your side. And if I don’t deserve her? It’ll be a cold day in hell before you do. Murderer .”
His expression twisted with pain, and I got up and wiped my clothes as if he’d dirtied them. I turned away, ready to storm out of the room without another fucking word.
He coughed, voice straining when he spoke right as my hand closed around the door.
“There was nothing…you could’ve done.” He coughed again and pulled in breaths as he tried to get the words out. “Even if you—if you’d gone after her…instead of coming…to me. It was too late.”
My hand tightened on the doorknob, threatening to snap it off with a single twist as he used his breath to spew more lies.
I glared at him over my shoulder as he kept going.
“I—No one could have saved her, Max. It wasn’t your fault.”
His words pressed in on places I didn’t want him near.
I forced them out of my head because his bloodshot eyes told the truth. Guilt still lingered there. And if what he’d said were true, then he’d be absolved, too.
He pushed the hair falling into his face away and shoved up to his knees. “I tried to save her, but by the time I got there, it was already too late.”
I didn’t want to hear anymore.
“And my mother—” He pitched forward, his shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m so?—”
“Yeah, well…” I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth, staring down at him at my feet. “Apologies don’t mean shit to the dead. And yours means even less to me.”