Page 153 of Shades of Grey & Gold

“That’s what I thought. Drive.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Max ~ Present ~

Mybackisagainstthe wall next to the door now, my head leaning there, too, with my eyes shut softly and my breaths coming more even after listening to him talk for a while.

“Nico was the only one who could know. It was the only way to make sure the family was safe from retaliation. They had to think I was gone. It was the only way to—” His voice breaks, and I hear a soft thud against the door. And with a heavy exhale, he continues, “to make sure they wouldn’t come after you again, Max. God—Max—”

Silence. I don’t dare move an inch.

I don’t know how much time has passed since he started talking. My eyelids are heavy, but I force them open. My body is numb. I can’t feel my fingers, but I start to register the things around me.

The bedroom is completely unchanged from what I can tell in the dim moonlight streaming in from the window. The bed is made with the same white quilt and big white pillows. The gold curtains I once mocked hang at the far end, framing balcony windows.

I can see the top of one of the pillows from here—it’s topped with a small, green chocolate mint.

“Nico said the whole penthouse was renovated,” I mumble it to the chair, mocking me from two feet to my left, where I sat months ago in Cal’s lap reading while he took business calls. In fuzzy socks. “It looks the same in here.”

“I haven’t been able to step foot in that room, let alone change a single—” His tone is frustrated at the topic change, his words fast and riding atop a small laugh, but the exasperated breath that stops them is not joking in the slightest. “Please.” He’s barely audible now, emotion snapping through the words, floating through the crack under the door, “please, Max—please open the door.”

My right hand reaches up without permission and lands on the door handle.

This can’t be real.

This isn’t real.

I’m having a mental breakdown and when I open this door, Nico is going to be on the other side ready to commit me to a mental hospital.

I’ve officially lost my mind.

My fingers twist the lock, and my hand falls from the handle.

The door doesn’t open. No sound comes from the other side of it, either, making me question the very real potential that this is a hallucination.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I stand straight up, holding the handle of the door and stepping back, fumbling as I pull it open slightly, dropping my hand back to my side and taking another step to the side. But I keep my eyes pressed together, scared of either outcome.

Nico with a straitjacket or—

“Max?” The voice is soft, just like I remember, and right in front of me.

I hear the door creak slightly and a very faint click of it being closed. I stop breathing and feel the air shift around me.

This isn’t real.

Behind my eyelids, the real orange flames of the building that exploded in front of my face burn. Real.

The white of the explosion, real.

Around my waist, the very real, very tight grip of Nico’s arms as he held me from running towards the blaze left real bruises.

My very real scream echoes in my head, right before the ear-splitting, very real shriek of their mom when Nico told her later that night.

That was real. This… this is not real.

“Are you real?” I let the words pass my lips, but they’re barely a whisper.

I don’t breathe and I pull my lips back together, feeling my chin wobble as the tears start again.