Page 3 of Max

I knew that voice.

I both hated and loved that voice.

It was Vinny, one of Nico’s friends that were always around him.

Vinny, the one that looked at me with a strange look on his face. But also took me aside and asked me gently if I needed help. Vinny, the one that, after Nico gave him a look, would grind his teeth so hard his jaw muscles would jump and then went somewhere. I hated those moments.

I knew what they meant. I was burying my head in the sand. I wasn’t stupid.

“I need to get her out of here,” I could barely hear the words, but the roughness of the voice vibrated through me.

“Who?” Vinny straightened from the car, putting one hand on the top, the other gripped the window.

I looked behind me, scared half to death that someone figured out I was not where I was supposed to be. I had no idea how much time had passed, and I only knew I had minutes.

I needed to go!

And Vinny was standing between me and whoever was waiting for me in that car.

If I was thinking straight, this was the moment I would stop and think about what I was doing. I was getting ready to jump in some stranger’s car and trust him to take me away. If I took a moment to think, I would never leave the church.

But I wasn’t thinking straight. I was only thinking about the fact that somehow, Jacob found a way to communicate with me. And the only thing he had to say was to leave. So, I had to go. And I had to go now.

I hiked my dress even higher, my phone digging into my palm, the lace cutting off the circulation in my fingers. And I ran. Vinny was still standing by the side of the car, staring inside, looking in with a fierce look on his face, clearly unhappy, when I got to the door. I opened the door and gave the doubt a chance to penetrate for half a second. In that minuscule amount of time, I looked up and was met with eyes that I knew could be both incredibly gentle and terrifyingly scary.

The moment Vinny got my eyes, the frustration in his melted away, and he was by my side in a flash. One second, he was standing on the opposite side of the car; the next, he was prying my hand that still had a death grip on the phone from the door and gently depositing me in the seat.

I could swear he kissed my head before he straightened, looked beyond me with an intense look back on his face, and then, just a blink later, he closed the door and off we went.

We drove for a long time. All that time he didn’t say a word. Neither did I. I didn’t even look to see who was behind the wheel. I was too scared. The irrational thought ran through my head on a loop. I convinced myself it was a test Nico organized, and I failed. And would pay the price.

It wouldn’t have been the first time. It was only after that rough voice came at me again, this time causing my heart to give a strong beat that I felt in my toes.

“You can relax. I promise you. You’re safe now.”

It was the word now that got to me and I released the breath I was trying to hold on to forever. I looked down from where I was staring at the same spot on the dashboard, for however long we drove. I didn’t dare to look at the man behind the wheel. I was scared that when I confirmed that it wasn’t Jacob, my resolve would melt and I would beg him to take me back, and then beg Nico to forgive me and resolve myself to live in hell for the rest of my life. What I saw made me lose all control, and I started laughing. I laughed so hard, my stomach clenched. I laughed so hard tears started streaming down my face. I laughed so hard because the only thing I decided to take with me was the bouquet that made my life a living hell to get. The one I didn’t want. And the one I still held in my hand, the streams of greenery flowing down my legs, its tips touching the floor mat.

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Chapter Two

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Skylar

I was sitting on Melanie’s couch, in Melanie’s living room that was, of course, in Melanie’s house. I was out of my wedding dress, still wearing Max’s big black T-shirt and his grey sweatpants. I found out his name after he brought me to his home. He barely even looked at me as he thrust the clothes in my hands and then turned around and left the room without a word.

Half an hour later, Melanie came to Max’s and took me to her home. And there I was, still wearing his clothes and wishing I was still with him. I sat in my friend’s house and just stared at the big, black folder open on the coffee table next to which was a forgotten mug of coffee and tried to think of what to do next.

I was both excited and terrified of the possibility of what was in that folder becoming true. They were the sketches I made over the years of how I would design my home. But when I showed them to Nico, he nixed the idea, claiming it was too girly, and it hadn’t anything that interested him. If I didn’t see any other signs that we were not a good match, that should have been one that opened my eyes. I dreamt my whole life how my home would look and ended up building a career out of that dream. A fact he knew about as I told him the same. A fact he ignored. As he did with everything that had something to do with me. Nico also had a vision of how his life would look. That vision included me only as a breathing mannequin. And when I did do something that he deemed wrong, he would let me know. And I would end up in pain. More often than not, a physical kind of one. We had a dance. Nico and I did. The one we were very practiced at. He would do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. And if I didn’t fall in line, he would let me know. So, he went and did his thing. And I? I ignored everything he did to me and how much he ignored me and just kept going.

God, it sounded sick, but I just wanted to belong to someone. And I was desperate to call someone mine, that I settled for a man who not only basically ignored my existence, but when he was aware I existed, he took his fists to me. When I told Melanie that I would throw the folder away, saying goodbye to my dreams, she took it away. The folder was waiting for me on the coffee table when she got us here. I knew what it was at first glance. I didn’t want to open it. I knew I had to just keep going. But in all that keeping going stuff, I never got what I wanted, and I didn’t even know how to reach for it anymore.

It all started when I was five years old. You wouldn't think it possible that someone’s life would turn so much at such a young age. But I’m living proof of that. I don’t remember much of the time. I only have two other memories from that period. And they’re blurry ones. One thing, though, followed me everywhere. I don’t remember what I was doing that day. What cemented its place in my brain was my aunt crying uncontrollably and my uncle’s distraught face. I remember thinking the team he cheered for must have lost the game and he was really, really sad about it. That was until he reached for me and gently placed me to sit by him. I looked to Kiki, my cousin, who was their daughter with whom I was playing until five minutes earlier when the scream pierced the air, and they called for us, and she was confused too. He never reached for me if she was close by. She was his girl.

“Skylar, honey,” he stopped talking, and I watched as his throat convulsed a few times before he muttered, “Christ.”

“Where’s Mommy?” I asked, and my question was met with another wail from my aunt. It was at that moment that I remember fear flashing through my small belly, making it hurt.