Do You Dare? by Lylah James

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Maddox

I glanced down at my phone for probably the hundredth time, waiting for a text back. She wasn’t replying. I left school early today when Lila missed the first two classes. Now, I sat in my car in front of her grandparents’ home like a goddamn stalker. Worry gnawed at me because it was so unlike Lila to ghost me, and she never missed her classes.

I did the same shit a few weeks ago. Bailed on her and ghosted everyone who tried to reach out to me. I didn’t expect her to turn the tables on me, and I didn’t like it, not one bit. Now, I understood how she felt when I wasn’t answering her phone calls and she found me in that tub, freezing and pissed drunk.

Was she hurt?

Did something happen?

Why. The. Fuck. Won’t. She. Reply. To. My. Texts?

Goddamn it!

I slammed my fists against the steering wheel, slightly unhinged at the mere thought of Lila being hurt.

I went to their grocery store today and found out that her grandma was home. Sure, I could have spoken with Sven, her Pops, but I’d rather not. He liked me enough, but he didn’t seem to trust any boys around his little Lila, even ones who were her friends and didn’t want to get in her pants.

Okay, that was a fucking lie.

I still wanted to get in her panties.

Maybe he could read me better than I thought. Was I that obvious?

Oh, she was my friend, but I still wanted to fuck your granddaughter. Up and down, sideways, on our knees, every fucking position.

Well, yeah. No wonder he didn’t like, like me.

I rang the doorbell, and Lila’s grandma opened the door, a pensive look on her face. She looked tired and weary. At the sight of me, she smiled a little. “Maddox, what are you doing here?”

“Hi,” I said, peering behind her shoulder, expecting Lila to pop up. “Is Lila home? I tried to contact her, but she isn’t answering, so I grew worried.”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes turning glassy. “You don’t know?” She spoke the words so softly that I almost missed them.

My heart skittered a beat, and I started sweating. The blood rushed through my ears and my heart hammered in my ears. “Is… something wrong? Did something happen to her?”

She shook her head. “You don’t know what today is?” she questioned, but then answered her own question before I could say a word. “She didn’t tell you. I’m not surprised. My Lila always suffers alone.”

Suffers… alone?

Fuck, no. She would never. Not alone.

Lila had me.

True, she didn’t need a hero to save the day, but the more I got to know her, the closer we grew–I wanted, no –I needed to protect her. Maybe it was to return the favor since she took care of me when I was at my weakest or simply because I…cared. I’d ever confess that out loud to her. She’d sock me in the face because Lila Garcia hated to be pitied.

Except, I didn’t pity her.

I just wanted to… protect her.

“What are you saying? Is she hurt?”

Her grandma gave me a heartbroken smile. “She’s been hurting for a long time.”

That… hurt. Right there, in my fucking chest.

Mrs. Wilson leaned against the doorframe, looking more haggard than her age. “Did you know that Lila never cries? Never, except one day of the year. On that day, she cries alone; she hides her tears from everyone. That’s the only day she lets herself feel pain.”

My heart nearly spilled out, and I rubbed my chest, trying to alleviate the ache. It didn’t stop the pain. It infiltrated my veins and my blood, for her.

Her shoulders shook and slumped, as if she had finally been released from a heavy burden she carried. “My Lila is strong with a fragile heart,” she whispered.

“Where is she right now? Where can I find her?” Even I could hear the urgency in my voice, the desperation.

And I was not a desperate guy.

But Lila made me feel many things I’d never felt before. Not for any other girl.

“Lila left this morning. She’s at Sunset Park. You’ll find her sitting on a bench.”

I nodded my thanks and took a step back, clenching my car keys in my hand. Sunset Park, I’d find my Lila there.

“Maddox?”

I paused and glanced over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“Are you Lila’s friend?”

Confused, I blinked, and my brows furrowed. Grandma was well aware we were friends; we had been for months. But she stared at me, expectantly, as if her question held more meaning behind those simple words.

And I realized they did.

That question was powerful because it made me think about how important Lila was to me, how close we were and how much she meant to me. One simple question, and it put our whole relationship in perspective.

Yes, I respected the hell out of Lila. She was smart, funny, wild and… caring.

Yes, I still wanted a taste of her. Wanted it since I first laid eyes on her.

But she meant more.

We had each other–she got me and I got her.

Suddenly, the idea of us being more than friends became taboo. Because if we were ever more than friends, we risked losing what we had now. A silent understanding. A friendship based on honesty and loyalty. Lila saw behind all my bullshit and didn’t let it deter her. She pushed and pushed until I cracked open in front of her. Lila and I were alike in so many ways, yet still… different. Maybe that was why we suited each other so well as friends. We balanced each other.

She was the calm in my reckless life.

I was the chaos in her peaceful one.

“Lila’s my best friend,” I finally confessed, with a curl of my lips.

Grandma looked thoughtful for a moment before she gave me a melancholy smile. “Take care of our girl. She refuses to let any of us lend her a shoulder. Maybe you’ll be different.”

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in my car at Sunset Park. My gaze found Lila the moment I parked and turned off the engine. Like her Gran said, I found her sitting on a bench, alone. Sweet Lila was cuddled up in her winter coat, trying to stay warm against the cold. I couldn’t see her face from where I was, but I didn’t like what I was seeing.

She was hunched over the bench, her legs up on the seat with her arms wrapped around her knees. Lila looked… lost.

I stayed in my car for a few more minutes, giving her some time by herself. I knew why she was here. Sunset Cemetery Park.

Her parents were here.

Did you know that Lila never cries? Never, except one day of the year. On that day, she cries alone; she hides her tears from everyone. That’s the only day she lets herself feel pain.

And I knew what that day was, what today was, and why it was so important for Lila.

Sweet Lila–the fiery dragon with a fragile heart.

I stepped out of the car when I couldn’t stay away any longer. The cold wind blew hard, and Lila hugged herself tighter. There was a magnetic pull between us, and I walked toward her without even realizing my feet were taking me to her side.

She didn’t move when I settled at her side on the bench, didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Silently, I grasped her hand and pulled it away from her knees. She clutched my hand, and I squeezed hers in return, a silent vow.

I’m not letting go, Lila.

She didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare break the silence. Lila quietly sniffled and dashed away her tears with her other hand, but she couldn’t keep her cries in. She cried her little heart out, a desolate sob coming from a person drained of all her hopes and dreams.

As if realizing now that she was holding onto my hand, she tried to wrench it away from me. I held fast, squeezing her hand in comfort. “Go…away,” Lila murmured.

I stayed silent, refusing to utter a word, but also refusing to leave.

Minutes probably turned into hours as I sat with her. She cried until I thought there would be no tears left, but she still cried. She didn’t speak again and neither did I. Lila needed to grieve in silence, but I’d be there with her. I was staying, and I’d fight any motherfucker who’d try to make me leave.

Each sob that racked through her body wrecked my stupid heart even more. A whimper escaped her, a tortured sound, and she gripped my hand harder, her nails digging into my skin. Her other hand came up, and she clutched her chest, a broken sob slipping past her lips. Her whole body was shaking, whether it was from the cold or the force of her tears, I didn’t know.

The sound of her struggling to breathe through her crying decimated me.

“It… hurts,” she whimpered. “It… hurts… so much, Maddox.”

Her breathing was ragged, gasping, and her body slumped forward as if all the strength had left her body. She shouldn’t be able affect me so strongly, but wild emotions swirled inside me as I breathed in her pain and suffering.

Watching the Lila I knew, the strong and confident Lila, break apart like this…

Fuck!

There was a phantom ache in my chest, like an invisible knife digging and twisting viciously into my flesh – the pain becoming unbearable.

I grabbed her before she could slide off the bench, her body weak in her grief. Our knees dug into the damp mud, but I didn’t care as I pulled her into my arms. She was half sitting on my lap, her face buried in my neck as her tears soaked through my shirt and against my skin.

“Why doesn’t it… stop? Why? Why? Why!?” She wailed. Her tiny fist clenched around my shirt. “It hurts… even more. Every time… every year. The… pain… just never goes… away.”

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to fucking do, so I just held her. I was never good with words of condolences, never had anyone to comfort until Lila.

For fuck’s sake, the moment a girl started shedding a few tears, I’d be running the other way as far as I could go. Girls and tears were the one thing I didn’t do, nope… never.

Until Lila.

Life had broken her.

Just as it had broken me.

Maybe it was why we found each other.

Call it fate, kismet… or maybe it was God’s doing…

Lila was meant to hold my broken pieces together; just as I was meant to hold the shattered pieces of hers.

No, she didn’t fix me, and I didn’t fix her. We just… held each other; it was that simple.

“I got you,” I said softly against her temple.

She trembled in my embrace. “They didn’t deserve… to die. They didn’t!”

I murmured soothing words to her as she wailed her agony. “Why did they… die… and why… me… why am I… here? I want… to go… to my mom and my… dad. I don’t… want to be here. I don’t!”

I’m sorry, so so sorry, baby girl.

The pain flowing from Lila was as palpable as the frigid wind around us. Such agony and such a lonely, broken soul.

More time went by, and eventually, her sobbing turned into hiccups and quiet sniffles. Lila was still on my lap, face still tucked into the crook of my neck and her fingers still clutching my shirt as if her life depended on it.

I brushed her hair out of her face, my thumb rubbing over the trail of her tears. “I got you.”

She hugged me tighter.

“Can I meet your parents?” I asked.

Lila gave me the tiniest nod. She stumbled out of my lap and stood up on shaky legs. I did, too, trying to ignore the tingles prickling through my legs after sitting in the same position for too long. She took my hand in hers, and we walked toward her parents’ headstones.

“Hey, mom,” Lila said, her voice cracking. “I’ve got someone for you to meet.”

Catalina Garcia.

The sun shines brighter because she was here.

Beloved mother, wife and daughter.

She pointed at the tombstone beside her mother. “And that’s my dad. Dad meet Maddox, Maddox meet Dad.” A small, wobbly smile appeared on her lips. “And no, daddy. He’s not my boyfriend.”

Zachary Wilson.

A gentle man and a gentleman.

Loving father and loving husband.

What a beautiful memory you left behind.

My throat clogged with emotions, so I nodded in greeting. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson.”

Lila knelt down in front of the headstones. She brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees again. I realized, now, that she was trying to physically shield herself from the pain. I joined her as I tried to understand what I was feeling. There was a heavy weight on my chest, and it almost made it harder to breathe. Lila was eerily quiet for the longest time before she finally spoke.

“You scare me,” she whispered.

“Why?” You scare me, too.

“Because I trust you. Because I want to tell you what I’ve never told anyone before.”

Same, Lila. Fucking same.

“Do you know what hurts the most?” Lila said, sniffling. “The regret.”

I waited for her to continue, to tell her story.

***

Lila

“I think I’ll always carry that regret in my heart because the last thing I said to my parents was that I hated them. I remember whispering it in the back of the car, but I don’t know if they heard it or not. Because right after I had said those words, I heard my father scream, and my mother cry out. Then… the car… I was in the air… and the next thing I knew, everything hurt. So much pain.”

A single tear escaped and slid down my cheek. I dashed it away, almost angrily, because right now, anger tasted bitter on my tongue while the pain laid heavy on my heart.

“I was only thirteen, well… almost fourteen. So young, so foolish, such a stupid, stupid brat. They wouldn’t let me attend a birthday party that all my friends were attending. Mom said they didn’t know the girl whose house I was going to, so they didn’t feel comfortable with me going. Dad didn’t think it was safe because it was too far from our neighborhood, and they didn’t know the parents. I wanted to go. I wanted to have fun with all my other friends. But they refused, and I was so, so angry. We were in the car, and we were arguing. Then I said… I hate you.”

The memories were vivid in my head, as if it were just yesterday. I could almost hear my parents’ voices, and if I closed my eyes, I could see them.

I looked away and blinked away the burning sensation in my eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. I just said it because I was angry, but I didn’t mean it, Maddox. I… didn’t. Those were the last words I said to my parents. That is my deepest regret,” I broke off, letting out a pained whimper. I choked on my shame. “It… hurts because I will never get to tell my parents how much I love them. I will never feel my mother’s arms or my dad’s warm hugs again. My mom will never sing me happy birthday in her silly voice, and my dad will never tickle me because he loved to hear me laugh. He said my laughs sounded like a chipmunk.”

I ducked my head, hiding behind the curtain of my hair. “Sometimes, I forget what it is to feel okay, to feel normal because I’m filled with… so many unspoken emotions.”

Maddox was silent, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Did he pity me? Could he feel my shame? I didn’t want to be pitied, though… for the first time since my parents died, I just wanted to be held.

I’d been pushing the people who cared about me away: my grandparents and Riley. They tried, but I always shut them down because I hated being pitied, I hated the sympathetic look on their faces. When Gran suggested therapy, I refused to see any shrink. Talking about my feelings to a stranger? Letting them see me at my weakest? No way.

Realization dawned on me, and I choked back a sob. By pushing them away, I was causing myself more pain. I needed someone to talk to.

I needed to be held.

I needed to cry and have someone tell me it was going to be okay.

Sniffling back a cry, I dabbed my tears away. Maddox was here, and it was ironic because of how much I despised him when we first met.

“Do you know why I hated you so much before?”

He let out a dry laugh, without any humor. “Because I was an asshole?”

If only he knew the truth…

Maybe it was time.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “No, I despised you, hated the mere idea of you, because you reminded me of my parents’ murderer.”

His head snapped up, and I could almost hear his heart beat rattling through his chest.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

There was a moment of silence, his lips parting as if to speak, but he couldn’t say a word. His eyes bore into me, searching, and I saw matching pain in his. My words hung heavily between us, and we both bled from the invisible gunshot, a festering open wound.

I swallowed past the heavy lump in my throat, my whole body shaking with tremors. “We wouldn’t have gotten into an accident if we hadn’t been hit by a drunk driver that night.”

Four years had gone by, and I was still haunted by the memory.

“He was seventeen and very drunk, way above the limit, especially for someone underage. The road was slightly icy, so he lost control of his vehicle. Our cars were travelling the opposite direction, and he hit us from the front. I still remember the bright headlights flashing in front of me as his car crashed into ours.”

“He–”

“He should have been jailed for a long time. He should have been punished, right? Maddox, right?”

He nodded, his eyes red. Don’t give me such a tortured look, Maddox. My heart is already breaking.

“He didn’t,” I said, hugging myself tighter. “He didn’t even spend a night in a cell; he wasn’t punished, and he walked away from the accident, unscathed. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Maddox whispered, but he already knew the answer.

“He was the rich and spoiled son of a wealthy and influential attorney who had the whole world at his feet. His dad swept the accident under the rug and was able to get his son out of trouble. I was in a coma for a few weeks, and when I woke up… I found out the case was closed and had been filed away. We were told the chauffeur took the blame and had been pardoned by the law; except, he wasn’t the one driving that night… that boy was. I know because I did my research after I woke up. My grandparents helped, and we tried to open the case again.”

“Lila,” Maddox breathed. His head fell into his hands. “Goddamn it.”

“I was in the hospital still recovering from my injuries when the dad walked through the door. The look on his face, God, I can still see it so clearly. There was no remorse, Maddox. Nothing. He didn’t care that I just lost my parents because of his son. He didn’t care that I was practically crippled in a hospital bed, in pain, in so much fucking pain. He took out a check…”

“No,” Maddox let out a curse. “Fuck, no. Lila, no.” He banged his fists against the wet, muddy grass.

I laughed and laughed, dry and empty and cold. Yes. He offered me one million dollars to stay silent. He said he’d give me more if I’d just shut up and leave his family alone.”

Then I cried.

And cried… and cried.

“We… lost…the… case,” I hiccupped back a sob, but I was only choking on my own saliva. “Money and power and too many connections, he had everything, and we stood no chance against him.”

“He paid off the judge?” Maddox growled, his words laced with anger.

“I assumed he did or he didn’t have to. They were buddies.”

I tried to breathe, tried to stay alive, forced myself to survive. Inhale, exhale.

I wanted to scream until I pass out and forget all of this happened. Maybe when I’d wake up, I’d find myself in a world where my parents were still alive, and we were living happily ever after.

“When you’re rich, you can pay for someone’s silence, buy life and death, play god and win. That’s what he did. I’m a mere mortal… I lost.”

“I’m sorry.”

I am too.

“I hated you because you were a reminder of the boy who ruined me and stole my life from me,” I croaked, my ability to speak fading. I rubbed my chest, over my scars. “So rich, so spoiled. Such a brat with so much arrogance.”

Maddox made a sound at the back of his throat; it sounded almost like a silent cry before he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

With all my strength gone from my body, I couldn’t sit up anymore. My body swayed, and I fell onto my back and closed my eyes. I was drained of everything, all the pain, all the suffering… my past and all the memories.

I felt… empty.

And numb.

I didn’t have to open my eyes to feel him. Maddox settled on the cold grass and laid down beside me. I felt his warm breath against my neck. He was really close.

I breathed in the fresh air, and there was a comfortable silence between us. It lasted for a long time, and I soaked it in, the warmth from his presence. Until Maddox broke the silence.

“Tell me about your parents. How did they meet?” he asked gently.

So, I did.

I told him about an unlikely love story.

“My mom was the only Hispanic in their neighborhood, and all the other kids would pick on her. My dad was apparently one of her bullies until she grabbed him one day and slammed her lips against his then pulled back, looked him straight in the eye and told him, ‘If you can't shut up, I'll shut you up.’ He said he fell in love with her right then and there. My father always told me to be with the person who makes your heart beat a thousand miles an hour,” I told Maddox.

We stared at my parents' headstones, and I wondered if they could feel me since I was so close to them? Were they watching over me?

There was a dull ache in my chest, but I didn’t feel like crying anymore. Maybe I’d finally spent all my tears; because even though it hurt, the urge to cry was gone.

Until next year, until I allowed myself to break down again. I hated being vulnerable. The last time I was; I had been in a hospital and I couldn’t give my parents’ the justice they deserved.

I didn’t know why I let Maddox see me like this, why I allowed him to see my weakness… but all I knew was the moment he sat on that bench next to me and held my hand, I didn’t want him to let go.

I didn’t even cry at parents’ funeral until everyone was gone, and I was alone. Except the moment Maddox touched my hand – the dam broke, the cage around my heart shattered, and I hadn’t been able to stop crying.

We sat there for a long time. The sun was starting to go down, the sky turning a bright orange. I guess this place was called Sunset Park for a reason; it had the best sunset view.

“Do you believe in love?” Maddox asked, roughly.

What a strange question in a moment like this.

“Yes. But I've long decided that it's not for me. Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't want to lose anyone else.” I’ve suffered enough loss for a lifetime, and I survived it, but I didn't want to test my luck.

How much pain can a person bear before they break down completely?

I was stronger than the magic of love.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and brought my legs closer to my chest. I laid my head over my knees and turned to look at Maddox. He was staring at my parents' headstones, looking thoughtful.

“Do you believe in love?” I asked him back. My cheeks felt tight from the cold and my dried tears. My face was probably blotchy and red, but I couldn’t find myself to care in the moment.

This was Maddox, my best friend.

He blinked, as if he wasn't expecting the question. “I don't know.”

Curious, I pushed for more. “What do you mean?”

“I used to think love was fake. It didn't exist. Love is too complicated and shit. No one belonged to me before. I was never close enough to love someone or to even understand the meaning of it.”

Wild emotions clogged my throat, and my heart flipped like a caged bird, beating its wings, looking for an escape.

“And what do you think now?” I whispered the question.

Maddox faced me, his blue eyes staring into mine, looking right through my cold exterior, pushing right through my walls and knocking at my caged heart.

When he spoke again, his voice was deep and rough. His words were a silent confession.

“Now, I have someone to lose, and I know it will break me. I know what it means to fear losing the person who means the most to you.That person has the power to destroy me.”

Silence fell upon us, and I couldn't find the words to convey what I was feeling. I turned my head away from his probing gaze and went back to staring at the headstones.

Seconds turned into long minutes, but we sat there in comfortable silence.

“Maddox?”

“Yeah?”

I took a deep breath and made my first promise to Maddox. “You won't lose me. Ever.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I thought I fucked up, until his hand came into the line of my vision, and he showed me his pinky.

“Promise?” he asked softly.

I hooked my finger around his. Maddox was warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to him and never, ever let go. “Promise.”

He flexed his pinky around me and then he smiled.

For the first time today, I smiled, too.

Pinky swear, me and you... forever.