Chapter 22 #2
When Josh called time, we exited the ring. While Vivian stopped to discuss a few last things with Josh, I breezed past Brad and gathered my things, hellbent on getting out there.
Vivian came up beside me and started packing her stuff.
She eyed where I rubbed my side and shook her head.
“What?”
Her brow furrowed, and she almost didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t help herself. “You drop your arm right before you punch. It gives away that you’re about to do it.”
Even though her tone held no malice, Vivian having the audacity to chime in with feigned helpfulness snapped my self-control like a toothpick.
I turned to face her. “Why offer that friendly advice, V?”
“I think it would help.”
I scoffed. “Oh, please.”
She frowned. “We were stuck training together for the rest of the week.”
“And what? You want to be friends? Bond like besties by giving me free advice.” I stared at her in disbelief, outrage rising in my chest. “You honestly expect me to believe you offered that from the kindness of your heart?”
“No.” Her cheeks reddened, and she shifted back to her usual bitchy and condescending self as she turned away from me with a huff. “Maybe I just don’t want you to suck.”
“Right.” I smacked my lips together. “That’s your job now.”
Her eyes flashed to mine, wide and furious. “What did you just say to me?”
I scoffed and shook my head, walking away without a word.
She shrieked after me. “I asked you a question!”
“And I ignored it!” I whirled back around, unable to help myself as all the pent-up anger over Max poured out of me. “As in no, I don’t want to answer you! You’ve heard it before, remember? No. The word that means jack shit to you.”
Her expression and her breathing faltered.
Unable to fathom what had just run through her head, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not enough to stick around and ask what her problem was.
Spinning on my heel, tension vibrated up my arms. I clenched my hands into fists, wholeheartedly wishing I could release the frustration building inside me.
Needing to let out the rage before it burned me alive.
It had been eating at me since Max told me about her gift. Since their announcement in the parlor. What he’d said to me that night in the forest. And with every moment where he hid the truth from me.
Storming out of the room, I had no idea what to do. I wanted to turn around and press harder, demand answers from her whether or not she liked it. But I still didn’t know if that would hurt Max.
Once again, I felt stuck. Left wanting to scream at the top of my lungs. Convinced it was the only way to let the emotion out. It rose up in my throat, the force of it threatening to choke me if I didn’t release it.
But Josh’s panicked voice distracted me. “Whoa, it’s okay! Calm down.”
Glass shattered.
I spun around.
Vivian stood in front of the mirror, body bowed forward with her head in her hands.
Josh approached her with his palms splayed in front of him, sidestepping glass from the mirror where it had scattered across the floor. He spoke too quietly for me to hear, reaching out carefully, like she might spook.
Do something worse.
I searched for whatever she’d thrown. Whatever had crashed into the mirror, but I couldn’t find it.
Vivian’s body shook as Josh grew closer, and he glanced around for help only to find me in the doorway.
But he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t a better option.
Waving me away, he mouthed, “Get help.”
I took off, everything blurring around me.
Grabbing the first person I crossed paths with, I let them know they needed help in the Sparring center. Whoever I told ran off as I stumbled toward my next session.
Shattering glass echoed in my head.
It stuck with me for the rest of the day.
By the time I made it to my training session with Max, my anger hadn’t lessened.
“Just a heads up,” I snapped, “your soon-to-be fiancée knows I know about her birthday gift and her bullshit stance on consent.”
He narrowed his eyes on my face, his expression quickly working through emotions before landing on one I expected.
Rage.
“You just can’t let it go, can you?” He practically spat out the words. “You’re hellbent on dragging that shit up. Shit you know nothing about. And not caring in the slightest the hurt you cause because you need answers.”
My eyes widened. “Are you defending her to me right now?”
He scoffed and turned away from me.
My body shook with the urge to fight with him, but Max’s exasperation drained the last of my hope. Having spent most of the afternoon thinking about her reaction, I only saw two possible conclusions.
If Max really did choose her, then what I’d thrown in her face was a painful reminder of his past. Or my attempt to rub it in her face that while he used me, it had been my job.
Her reaction fit that of a woman scorned.
But I couldn’t explain why she’d done that if she and Max weren’t secretly hiding their love and plans to run away with each other.
Why would it have affected her so much?
Either way, by lashing out at Vivian instead of just walking away, I’d failed in more ways than one.
I’d promised Landon and Kingston I’d be safe and strategic, and another dramatic session fighting with one of the girls didn’t feel like either.
Plus, by letting her breakdown distract me throughout the whole day, I’d barely focused on my limited training sessions or made progress on my clues.
I was sick of it, repeatedly getting nowhere—actually losing ground—all because I’d believed Max and I had been building a solid foundation.
But hating how things were didn’t change them, and fighting only made it worse.
So, I had to change my approach.
I released a heavy sigh, my shoulders sagging as I let go of my anger. “Max, I don’t want to fight with you.”
He scoffed again. “Bullshit.”
I snapped my head in his direction.
“No. Not bullshit. I shouldn’t have come in here like that and said what I did. I shouldn’t have said anything to Vivian at all. And you’re right, I should let it go. Especially since you’ve made it perfectly clear, we’re over.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his eyes narrowed further. He stared at me for so long, I finally had to look away. I dug into my bag while he stewed silently.
“You’ve told me to let it go. That this is what you want, and I need to accept it.
” I pulled my sweatpants out of the bag, twisting them in my hands.
“I do accept it, so…like you said, let’s just get this over with, okay?
Don’t say anything else if you’re just going to be cruel, and I won’t make your job difficult anymore. ”
I looked up, staring at him for as long as I could while he worked through whatever he wanted to say. But when his expression hardened, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m sorry, alright? See?”
I tugged my sweatpants over my leggings. My hoodie stayed firmly in place over my risqué sports bra.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Max, just don’t leave. Teach me what I’m supposed to learn from you.”
Before he ordered me to do it, I walked over to the table he’d set up and took my seat. Keeping my head down, I stared at my shaking hands and waited for him to leave again.
But he didn’t.
And when I lifted my head, my breath caught in my throat.
The glasses at the table were familiar. The bread. The cheese. The knife.
And the bottle of wine.
Max walked over and handed me a blindfold, his voice lacking the heat from a moment ago. “Put that on.”
“This is…” My eyes jumped from the table to him, and I scrambled to find a reason for it other than the one I desperately wanted to cling to. When I couldn’t do that, I swallowed past the emotion lodged in my throat. “This is from The Princess Bride.”
He kept his eyes on mine, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. “If you say so.”
As he took a seat at the table, I put the blindfold on.
I listened as he poured the wine into the glasses, unstoppered a small bottle of what had to be fake poison, and tapped one of the cups.
Max had recreated a scene from my favorite movie, when the Dread Pirate Roberts rescued Princess Buttercup. He outsmarted her captor, Vizzini, by challenging him to a “Battle of Wits.” Vizzini drinks from the cup he suspects isn’t poisoned, not realizing Roberts had poisoned them both.
One could argue that what the Dread Pirate Roberts did was an example of subterfuge, and therefore a perfectly reasonable lesson for our training, but…
It had to be more than that.
When Max took my hand, I sucked in a sharp breath. He lifted it off the table and placed one of the glasses in it, wrapping my fingers around the stem.
I didn’t know if it was his hands shaking, or mine.
But he held on just a moment longer than necessary before letting me go.