Max (A Carter Brother series Book 4) (39 page)

Jesus, he’s acting like he owns the place.
That’s because he does, fuckhead.

I chuckle before turning to greet my brother full on, my arms open wide for a hug. He doesn’t even blink at my hug offer. He just nods to the girl behind me with disinterest, making my earlier gay comment fitting.

“Max,’’ he snaps. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home doing chores for Joan?’’

“Bro,’’ I call excitedly, throwing my hands around the girl beside me. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a free elf. Master presented Dobby with a sock, Dobby free,’’ I laugh, the girl laughing beside me.

“Can you give us a minute?’’ Maverick asks the girl, and the look he gives her doesn’t leave any room for an argument. She disappears and I watch her walk away pouting. That is until she sits at a table with a bunch of other girls, one looking familiar.

“Hey, doesn’t she look like a rougher version of Kayla?’’ I whisper like it’s a conspiracy, whilst looking over at Kayla’s rougher looking doppelgänger. I even point in her direction in case Maverick missed her while he was doing a cat walk over here, but he slaps my hand down looking embarrassed.

“Pack it in,’’ he hisses, looking unamused. Leaning forward he grabs my arm, pulling me through the bar towards the back.

“Hey, I was trying to find my score for the night,’’ I snap, my words slurred and honestly? Uncaring. “Hey, are you drunk?’’ I ask, wondering why he’s zigzagging me through the bar.

Maverick whirls on me, his face thunderous. “Shut the fuck up. We need to talk,’’ he booms, shoving me into the unoccupied booths.

“I’m not a fucking rag doll,’’ I snap, rolling my eyes dramatically. “If you’re here to give me the lecture on the usage of protection, I got it covered. If you want to give me some sexual pointers, one ewwww, and two, I don’t need any. This bad boy can go all night,’’ I grin, thrusting my hips, managing to catch my groin on the table. “Fuck.’’

“What the fuck is going on with you? First you’re a jerk to Lake, embarrassing her in front of everyone and her family...’’ he starts, making my hands fist together under the table.

“
WE
were her family too,’’ I shout, my blood raging. How dare he bring her up, how fucking dare he? He doesn’t know fucking shit. He doesn’t know that I acted like a dick to protect her, to give her what she wanted, what she needed.

My brother sighs, his eyes softening for a moment before looking at me with a pitiful look.

“Don’t do that,’’ I warn him, not needing him to take pity on me. After a second I plaster on a fake smile, looking at him like nothing ever happened. “Want to sing a song? We could duet you know. Maybe some breakaway pop hit,’’ I tell him seriously, wondering if it will be okay for men to sing together.

He ignores me, a sad sigh escaping. “If you didn’t want her to leave why did you push her away?’’

“As riveting as this conversation is, I’d rather be getting another drink and getting into that one’s pants,’’ I tell him, pointing to the hot blonde that has been eye fucking me from across the room. She winks when she sees me pointing, so I return it with a wink of my own.

Maverick turns to look: hey, he’s male, don’t judge him. His eyes widen before snapping back to me with an expression I can’t decipher.

“That sixty year old woman?’’ he asks, with a slight squeak to his voice.

“What?’’ I ask confused, shaking my alcohol induced head. That’s when I see her, the old lady whose chest kept me standing earlier on my way to the stage. “Nah, not her,’’ I chuckle, amused. “Already felt that up.’’

Maverick doesn’t seem too impressed, in fact, he looks down right horrified and if I’m right, a little pissed.

“Why are you doing this?’’ he asks, looking defeated and older than his twenty-six years.

“’Cause I need to get laid? ’Cause I need someone to fuck Lake out of my fucking mind?’’

“For fuck’s sake, Max,’’ he roars, slamming his fist on the table. “For once in your fucking life be honest. Tell me what’s going on in that warped ass, crazy mind of yours. One thing I never pictured you as and that’s a coward.’’

Anger fills my veins, fuelling my temper which I don’t lose often. It takes a lot for me to get angry, but he’s going too far. I’m no fucking coward. I stand up suddenly, leaning menacingly over the table, getting in his face.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Mav. If anyone’s a coward it’s you,’’ I snarl, bringing up the time he left when we were younger.

His short fuse blows and he pushes me back down, taking his turn to get in my face before sitting back down. “That’s unfair and you fucking know it,’’ he snarls and the dark look that crosses his face has me sobering, sitting back in the leather booth. I’ve seen him angry but I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes are completely void of any emotion, a dark, cold look smothering his features. His eyes have turned completely black, scaring the shit out of me. “You have no idea, no fucking idea what I went through living in that house. You think you guys had it bad? I had it ten times worse, Max. But that’s not why you’re pissed is it? No, it’s about Lake leaving, not me. Now fucking admit why you’re so worked up over her leaving.’’

“Because I fucking love her,’’ I roar, and everyone’s eyes fall on me. Ducking my head, I lower my tone to just above a whisper. “I love her,’’ I finally admit, feeling deflated. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve loved her. I might have pushed her away for her own good but in the end she would have made the same choice, leaving me anyway. I just made it easier for her, even if it killed me inside.

I’ve come to blows with Mav before, but nothing compared to this. Ever. He’s also never talked about his childhood before either which is shocking. He might not have revealed much to some people, but to me, it’s more than he’s ever shared before. He, Mason and Malik stay closed off when it comes to growing up, but Maverick, he shuts down anything to do with him and his upbringing. So knowing I’ve caused him to blow up like this, to talk about his past, makes me realise how much I’ve really fucked up this past week.

“So go get her back,’’ he tells me after a few minutes, only our heavy breathing filling the silence.

His complete one-eighty personality change causes a wave of dizziness to hit me. He’s acting like we didn’t just hit each other with emotional abuse. My eyes warily watch him, trying to see if he’s going to jump me the minute I step out of the booth, but all I see is concern and worry, looking at me like I’m going to break at any second.

“How?’’ I ask, my voice weak. I don’t have the energy to fight with him anymore; it’s exhausting. That and all the alcohol consumption hasn’t helped my energy levels.

“It’s not going to be easy. First you need to sober up.’’

I was afraid he was going to say that.

“Okay, but first, stop spinning the room, it’s making me feel sick.’’

I wake up with red puffy eyes from crying all night. I’d literally fallen asleep sobbing my eyes out.

When we arrived home yesterday my stomach was still tied up in knots. I felt so sick and it wasn’t from the car ride. It only got worse the second we pulled up to my childhood home.

My mum and dad neglected to tell me they had organised a surprise ‘welcome home’ party. I knew they planned it out of love and wanted me to feel welcome but it just felt like an ambush, one that suffocated me from the second I walked through the door.

Family and friends passed me around like some rare antique. They asked me question after question, some even going as far as to send me disapproving looks. After listening to my uncle Ian give me what for, reminding me how much I put my family through running away, I kindly excused myself and rushed up to my old bedroom.

I fell apart as soon as I opened the door. It’s like everything hits me at once seeing my old room. Mum and Dad hadn’t moved or changed a thing. Not one thing. Everything is how I remembered it to be from the night we left to pick Cowen up from that dreadful party.

My prom dress was still hanging up on the wardrobe door, my school uniform folded on my chair and even my mobile phone, nail polish and magazine was still lying on my bed like I had only been gone away a day and not a year.

All that ran through my head was, ‘They never gave up on me’. Not once. It broke my heart knowing they lived life expecting me to return at any second but each day passed with no word from me. It was just another hard reminder of how badly I’ve messed up.

This past year I’ve spent every day wishing I could change that tragic night. I prayed that I could save Cowen, bring him back to life and that life would go back to how it was supposed to be. The guilt over that night ate away at me until there was nothing left of me.

Then I met Joan. She was so kind, so gentle, and never pushed me. She breathed a little light into my life, showed me a world where people were worse off than me. It gave me a reason to live again. If I couldn’t make my own life better then the least I could do was try to help other people make their lives better.

But then Max happened and I wasn’t prepared for him. I never expected he would be the one to breathe the life back into me. He brought me to want to live again, to love again, and by God, I love him. I love him so much that the pain from him not being in my life has left a hole in my heart and it’s slowly killing me inside and out.

A knock on my bedroom door shakes me out of my thoughts. Quickly, I sit up, leaning back against my cushions before wiping at my tears furiously. I don’t want my mum or dad to walk in and see the mess I’m in and think I don’t want to be here. I’m trying so hard to not show how badly I’m missing Max, missing Joan and the rest of them, but it’s so hard when it’s breaking my heart. They all became such a huge part in my life that not having them around anymore is making me feel lost. It’s tearing me apart inside because it’s the same feeling I had when I ran away.

It’s like I’m being pulled in two different directions. One part of me wants to be back home with Max, with Joan, but the other is hanging on tight to stay with her parents, with her brother.

“Come in,’’ I call out, my voice hoarse.

My door opens revealing an apprehensive looking Marybeth. I’m actually surprised it’s her and not my mum or Cowen. They’ve done nothing but smother me, asking if I’m okay every five minutes. I’m glad my dad gives me a wide berth but I think he’s only doing that because he knows I need some space.

“Hey, can I come in for a little bit?’’ she asks quietly, looking unsure.

“Sure! Sure!’’ I tell her, gesturing to the end of the bed for her to take a seat.

“Are you doing okay? I heard you crying when I went to bed last night,’’ she admits, watching me with a deep expression.

“Yeah,’’ I nod, not meeting her eyes. When she doesn’t say anything I look up. She’s looking at me with a soft expression, one that says she doesn’t believe me. “I miss them,’’ I blurt out, feeling guiltier now I’ve said it out loud. My parents are going to think I don’t love them.

“You’re bound to. I don’t know much about them or how you all met, but from what I saw and heard from my time there I could tell how much you meant to them and how much they meant to you. They were your family so of course you’ll miss them.’’

My eyes water despite my protests. “It’s not just that they were family. We were all so close. But it was more. I miss them all so much already and I’ve been gone a day. It feels like I’m losing my family all over again,’’ I sob, clutching my chest. “I feel like I’m betraying my own family somehow. It hurts. It hurts so much.’’

Marybeth rushes to sit down next to me, rubbing my shoulder soothingly.

“It’s all going to be fine, Lake. You’ll be able to see them soon,’’ she assures me.

“It won’t be the same, though. I’ll be visiting my cat that’s not really my cat anymore. It’s all messed up. I’m so happy about having my parents and Cowen back in my life, so fucking happy. I wished for this moment every day but now it’s here I feel like I’m losing more. And I feel guilty for feeling like this. After everything I’ve put them through they don’t deserve this,’’ I cry into my hands, feeling it harder now I’ve said the words out loud.

“What do you mean? You feel guilty about your parents or for leaving?’’

“Both. I promised Max I wouldn’t leave but I’ve left. Then there’s Mum and Dad. I put them through so much, through hell. They’re so happy I’m back and all I can do is feel miserable over being here because it means I leave another family. I’m torn in two. But I know I can’t have both. And they’re my parents and brother. How can I leave them again?’’

“I think your mum and dad understand if you want to go back. They just want you to be happy,” she tells me, trying to make me better but it just makes me worse because the thought of leaving them kills me just as bad.

“And what if I’m not happy with either? Because no matter what I do I’ll still feel broken. How can I put them through that?’’ I sob. “I don’t want them to think I don’t love them because I do, I love them so much.’’

“They know you love them, they love you too,’’ she tells me, bringing me in for a hug. Having her comfort me when I don’t deserve it just makes me sob harder into her chest. The sound of a floorboard creaking has me snapping my head up, pulling back from Marybeth and wiping away my tears.

Marybeth and I look to each other with wide eyes before turning to the bedroom door. When I see the door isn’t shut properly and is open a few inches, I begin to panic.

“Oh my God,’’ I whisper, horrified. “Did someone hear us talking?’’

The thought has my heart beating wildly and I watch as Marybeth gets up, walking quietly but quickly over to the door.

She looks down the hallway, both ways, before turning back to me. “No one’s out there.’’

I sag against my pillows in relief. The last thing I want is to hurt my parents anymore than I already have. I rub my eyes feeling emotionally tired.

“I’ll let you get some rest. Do you want me to bring you up some breakfast?’’

The thought of food makes my stomach roll. I shake my head, ‘no’. “Thank you for asking me, though, and for letting me cry on your shoulder,’’ I smile.

“I’m always here if you ever need to talk to someone,’’ she genuinely offers. She turns to leave but I call her name, stopping her before she leaves.

“Please don’t mention our conversation to anyone,’’ I plead.

“I won’t, I promise,’’ she assures me and with that, she leaves, shutting the door behind her. I fall back on my bed, closing my eyes and falling back to sleep.

*** *** *** *** ***

It’s a week after my talk with Marybeth and I still don’t feel any different. I thought if I ignored my feelings they’d disappear and everything would be okay but, as the week passed, my feelings only became stronger.

It started the day after mine and Marybeth’s chat. I hadn’t slept well and needed to get out and get some fresh air.

My walk led me down some familiar streets all the way to Emma’s, my best friend’s, house. To my utter surprise and complete devastation her mum wasn’t as happy to have me back as everyone else. She ended up slamming the door in my face after giving me a few choice words.

I ended up taking the long way back home, the whole way a complete blur. I’d been so lost in thought I didn’t even realise how much time had gone by. By the time I got back Mum and Dad were in the kitchen looking frantic and talking a mile a minute on their phones. They took one look at me when I walked in and ceased what they were doing, their bodies relaxing.

After that they sat me down and explained everything about Emma’s mum’s reaction. Turns out she blames me and Cowen for her daughter’s attack, adding to my guilt pile. It’s a reason why she wouldn’t let me see Emma. She also thinks Cowen had something to do with Emma’s sister’s death, but he didn’t. I didn’t need my parents to confirm that to know.

Missing back home became worse after that. I had Joan, the girls, and the lads to talk to, to hang out with. I moaned non-stop about never getting any peace whilst I was there but all I wanted was for one of them to walk into my room.

It didn’t happen and with each day I became a shell of myself. I’d cry myself to sleep, miss everyone like crazy and walk around like a robot, trying to find where I fit in with their lives now.

Then yesterday I finally charged my phone, texting the number I had for Emma to see if it was still in service. It wasn’t.

So then I emailed her yesterday, hoping she kept her email address, and fortunately for me she had kept the same address. I wrote her a lengthy email, unsure whether it was just her mum who disliked me or Emma too. I wish I had done it sooner. If I had known she was attacked I know for a fact I would have. But back then, with the loss of Cowen, my thoughts never even strayed away from him long enough to think about anyone else. Selfish? Yes. But I was a mess at the time and all I could think of was him and what I’d done. Not even my parents factored into the equation. It just made me feel like a shittier person.

She didn’t email me back until late last night, arranging for us to meet up this morning. It’s why I’ve only just gotten in, bypassing my parents on the way to my room, my emotions all over the place.

“I’ll warm dinner up later,’’ I shout down the stairs, not waiting to listen to Mum’s reply as I hide out in my room.

Falling down face first on to my bed, I sob. I sob for my best friend, for the life I’ve missed and for missing my life back in Coldenshire.

Emma isn’t the girl I remembered. She looked so different, her face gaunt and shrunken. She had lost her luscious curves, her tanned skin was so pale and she was a shell of the girl I once knew. It saddened me to no end knowing what she suffered through. I let her down. Big time. It’s something I’ve been doing a lot lately.

We didn’t talk about anything too heavy, but we did talk. At first it was about where I went when I ran away, what the people were like where I went. I told her about Coldenshire and living with Joan and her family. It was hard talking about them so soon. My parents and Cowen had taken the hint that any conversations about them are off limits. Only until I was stronger at least. It just feels wrong moving on like the past year didn’t happen, that Max didn’t happen. It was hard bringing them up.

We also spoke about her future, what she was planning on doing next. Dodging what happened to Emma was hard but I tried. But then she brought it up herself, making sure I knew she didn’t blame me or Cowen and that Darren was to blame for it all.

The second she uttered his name her face drained from what little colour she had. I quickly changed the subject, not wanting to upset her.

We spoke about her plans to move. She wanted to get out of this town, out from under her parents and from everything this town reminds her of. She explained she has her college arranging to transfer her grades to another college a few miles away. I was surprised to find it wasn’t that far from Coldenshire and would be the same one Myles is attending. She was just waiting to hear back before she approached her parents.

All of it exhausted me. We cried, laughed, cried, hugged and cried some more. It’s the reason I avoided my parents when I came up. They knew where I was because I left a message on the fridge before I left. I swear, having someone to answer to has been the hardest transition. I’ve spent a year only answering to myself. It’s strange having that parental guidance.

The door to my room opens, shaking me from my thoughts. Cowen walks in not bothering to knock as usual.

“Dude, I could have been naked,’’ I tell him dryly, rolling over on my back, resting my head on my pillow.

“I don’t care. I miss my friends,’’ he tells me sadly. It seems I’m not the only one missing Max and everyone. Cowen has taken it hard too and he only knew them for a few days. It’s sweet really. “And you miss my friends,’’ he nods, lying down beside me on the bed.

“Doesn’t matter,’’ I shrug, acting like it doesn’t affect me when inside it’s ripping me to shreds.

“It doesn’t?’’ he asks, seeming to really want to know and looking a little upset that it doesn’t. I don’t answer, not knowing how to answer without upsetting someone. He must feel the turmoil going on inside my head because his hand reaches out for mine, holding it tightly as a tear escapes, rolling down the side of my face. “How’s Emma?’’