Caught by Emma Louise
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The familiar sound of little girl giggles rings out through the back yard, but they do nothing to ease the ache in my chest. Cassidy and Aarabelle are being chased around by an equally giddy Liam. The joyful sound does nothing to help soothe the deep ache in my chest. It's been three days since he left. Three days of staring at my phone, praying that he'll answer at least one of the many texts I’ve sent or the voicemails I’ve left him. Seventy-two hours of deafening silence from him.
"Here." Lee's voice cuts into my wallowing thoughts. She hands me a steaming cup of coffee, and I'm almost tempted to tell her to take it back and bring out the wine instead. But that is a terrible idea. I have enough crap going on in my head without adding being drunk to the mix.
"Thank you. Not just for the coffee, but for coming over. I'm a freaking mess, and I’m sure Cass is sick of looking at my miserable face."
"You ready to talk about what happened?" she asks the question I know has been on the tip of her tongue all day.
After I peeled my wrung-out body from the floor, I somehow managed to pull myself together long enough to drive to the school to get Cass. Lee took one look at me in the pickup line and informed me she was following me home. I almost let her because the thought of it being just me and Cassidy here alone filled me with dread, but I didn’t want Lee to be there when, or if, Max came back.
She tried to push it, and she wouldn’t back down every time she’s called to check up on me over the last few days. Today I finally caved and agreed that she could come to check on us. As much as I love everything about my daughter, I’m still fragile from the mess I created with Max. I know she has been able to sense that, and so I appreciated the distraction that Lee and the kids being here gives us.
Cass has been through enough recently, and the last thing she needs is seeing me out of sorts yet again. Not only that, but I now need to consider what comes next for us. I need to make plans because we can't continue to stay here. I let the guys convince me to get out of the lease on my old apartment, and I haven't started looking for somewhere new yet. I’m too caught up in everything that was Max and I to care about what the future might hold. Thinking of Elite makes me realize I’m probably going to have to find another new job too. Max won’t continue to avoid the place like he has this week. That thought is yet another blow to my heart.
So just this once, I’m going to lean on Natalie for a while. I’ll let them help me when I’m feeling pretty shitty about the mess I’ve made of my life.
"I messed it all up," I finally admit as I watch the kids tumble to a mass of arms and legs on the grass. Lee doesn't answer immediately, but I can feel her watching, waiting for me to continue. "Max...” I sigh. “He pushed me to share things that I wasn't ready to share just yet. It’s over ... we’re done."
"Is it anything to do with you getting attacked?" she asks.
"No. Well, it wasn't, but he didn't know that. He pushed me, wouldn't take no for an answer. I shared more than I wanted to, and then I told him we were done."
"Hmm," is her non-response.
"Hmm? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know who these guys are, right?" she asks, finally looking my way.
"What do you mean?"
"Max, Crew. All of them. Heck, you've been around Liam, Jackson, Mark, and the rest of those guys too. They're a different breed. They're not normal," she says, leaving me feeling confused as to what she's getting at. "It's instinct for those guys. It's ingrained in them. They're programmed to protect the people they love. They push you into corners and fight their way into your life even when you think you don’t want them to."
"He doesn't love me," I immediately answer, my insides flipping over at the thought. He can't love me. He doesn't even know me, I tell myself, but I can't help but think of everything he's done for me. For Cassidy. How he's changed from the surly man that I first met. Is that love? Hope blooms, only to wither just as quickly.
It doesn't matter anymore because I pushed him away.
"Let him in, Darcey. Let him in, and I promise you it will be worth it."
* * *
Lee’s words reverberate around my head for the rest of the day and well into the evening. Knowing that I wouldn't be comfortable with Cass being here with me being so distracted, Lee offered to take her. I feel guilty that I'm palming my child off on someone else yet again, but I need tonight to get myself straight. I need to wallow in the thoughts of what could have been. What maybe could still be? I can't deny that the reason I was so agreeable to Cass going was that a part of me hoped that Max would come home, and we could talk.
Tapping the screen of my phone, I'm unsurprised by the lack of any messages waiting for me. It's almost seven o'clock, and my phone has been silent all day. No response to the one text I sent to Max a few hours ago.
Me: Can we talk, please?
The tiny 'delivered' that sits underneath mocks me. Despair tugs at me, wanting me to curl in on myself and give up, but I won’t. The more time I spend sitting here, the more I realize that I'm letting the past win. I was weak once, and didn't fight for myself until I had no other choice. Now something is messing with me again. I have no idea what, or why, but someone sent me that note. Someone arranged those flowers. Someone is trying to hurt me, and I'm letting them.
I know it isn't Jimmy. I saw the life leave his eyes. I made sure I was there when they put him in the ground. There is no way it's him, but instead of letting Max help me work out what is going on, I pushed him away.
I let fear and shame push past common sense, and I pushed him away, probably for good.
Let him in, and I promise you it will be worth it.
I'm filled with the sudden urge to find him. To tell him that I'm sorry. That I want to be with him. I tap the screen on my phone again, fumbling to pick it up as nervous energy has my hands shaking. Finding his name, I press the call button. It rings three times before cutting me off. I try once more, and the same happens.
I contemplate calling Crew or Felix to see if he's with them, but I know he won’t be. A flash of a memory hits me. Max at the bar the first night I met him. How comfortable he was there. I know now that his brother, Jake, is the president of the MC that owns that clubhouse. I don't stop to consider if it's a good idea or not before I grab my keys and hustle to my car. It's been so many weeks since I've even started it. I hold my breath and wait for the engine to turn over. Someone up there is looking over me because it starts the first time.
I'm almost there when my phone lights up from where I tossed it on the passenger seat. Hope fills my chest, only to be quickly replaced with sadness when I see that it's Felix calling. I don't answer. Not then, and not the three other times he calls. The alarm system would’ve told him that I left the house. Max must have told him that I was at home alone. Even after the shit I put him through, he's still looking out for me. That thought gives me hope that he still cares and that I haven't fucked things beyond repair.
The phone rings once more, just as I'm pulling into a parking space, and I see that it's Crew. I get a text from him a few seconds later.
Crew: Where are you? Why have you left the house?
I ignore all the messages because I've just seen Max's SUV is here. I've found him. I have a brief moment of indecision over whether or not I should go in there. But I still open the car door and walk toward the building anyway. The same guy stands in the doorway, but this time he's turned toward a small blonde that stands pressed close in front of him. He's too focused on her, or more than likely the scrap of material that she's pretending is a shirt to notice me, so I manage to slip past him unchecked.
The bar is exactly how I remember it from all those months ago. Dark, smoke filled and dotted around with some seriously scary looking biker dudes. I give one quick look around, but don't see Max anywhere. I put my head down and make my way to the bar, hoping nobody stops to speak to me. I recognize the woman behind the bar, but judging by the look she gives me, she has no idea that we've met before. It's hardly surprising considering I was dressed to the nines last time I was here, and today... well, today is a very different story. I’m dressed in ratty old jeans, a tank top, and one of Max’s old work flannel shirts. I have no makeup on, and my hair is like a bird’s nest scaped into a bun on top of my head.
"Is Max around?" I ask when she doesn't speak first.
"Max?" she repeats, squinting at me as if she's trying to work out where she knows me from. "I take it he isn't expecting you?" she asks cryptically.
"No. He isn't," I answer, hoping she can’t see how badly my hands are shaking with nerves. A cruel looking smile twists her lips as she nods knowingly at my answer.
"He's in the office out back; go on out. First door on the left." She jerks her head over her shoulder indicating the door I need to go through to find him.
"Thank you," I say, but I get the feeling that something is off with her offer. She looks entirely too smug as she watches me, waiting for me to move. Ignoring the nagging feeling that something is going on, I follow the directions she gave me. Once I'm standing outside of the door, I take a second to gather some strength, shaking my hands to stop the trembling and running the palms down my legs to get rid of the clamminess.
I can do this, I can be open with Max and I can apologize.
Pushing past the nagging voice that's telling me to go home, I raise my hand to rap my knuckles on the door softly. The sounds from the bar are still loud, and I don't know if he can hear me, so I take a chance and twist the handle and open the door.
"Max?" The word, nothing more than a pained whisper, dies on my lips as I take in the scene before me. Max is slumped in a beat-up chair, elbows on the armrests, and a bottle of whiskey clutched in one hand. He doesn't notice me standing there because his focus is on the woman who's on her knees between his outstretched legs.
The earth stops turning as I watch her reach toward the button of his jeans. He doesn't stop her, but the gasp that falls from my lips does. She hesitates when she sees me standing there, but Max doesn’t. She takes his silence for what it is, the go ahead to carry on. I can't stand to watch another second. Pushing away from the door, I run as fast as I can. I run past the smirking face of the bartender who set me up to see that. I run past the curious eyes that sit nursing bottles of beers as half naked women dance on the stained, battered dance floor.
I run until I'm outside, the cold evening breeze stinging my tear-lined cheeks. I don't stop until I'm at my car, the door pulled open ready for me to get the fuck out of here. I'm stopped before I can climb in by a sharp, blinding pain that hits the back of my head. The world swims in front of my eyes for a second right before everything goes black.