Darkness radiated from within, and he could barely make out the hint of the wispy white curtains that hung at the sides.
Relief stretched like a band across his chest when metal screeched, and the white-framed window was pushed up.
Little Bird poked out her head. Blonde hair fell around her shoulders, her skin soft and pale, hazel eyes wide as she stared back at him through the shadows.
Or maybe she was just an angel. A figment of his imagination that had been sent to rescue him.
“Maxon, what’s wrong? What happened?” she whispered, her words worried and sweet.
He wanted to fall into the comfort of them.
Close his eyes and forget.
“Let me in,” he begged, glancing down and behind him, listening for anything. For any indication that he might be comin’ for him. Or for Izzy.
He wasn’t about to stand for either one.
“Okay,” she agreed without question, and she scrambled to get out of the way.
He slipped through, and he climbed on top of her desk before he slipped all the way in.
The second he did, he dropped to his knees on the carpeted floor.
No energy left.
She slowly knelt down in front of him. She was wearing a nightgown that was pink, and her legs were bare, and Mack felt guilty that he kept thinking dirty things. Things her mama and her daddy definitely wouldn’t like.
Things he was sure she wouldn’t like, either.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again, the green of her hazel eyes glowing in the muted light.
“I just needed to see you.”
Something good. Something good.
Relief.
A frown tore through her expression, and she slowly reached up and ran those tender fingertips across his cheek.
“Are you missin’ your mama?”
Grief clutched his chest.
His stomach.
His mind.
Knives and whips and chains.
His body felt like it was on fire.
Incinerating.
Eaten alive.
If this went on any longer, he was sure his heart was going to fail.
He grasped her hand and pushed it closer to his face. “I want to die, too.”
A tear slipped from her eye, and she leaned up higher on her knees, angling his direction. “Don’t say that. Please, don’t ever say that.”
“Why not? What’s the use in livin’ when it always ends?”
Her head shook emphatically. Desperately. “Because I’m here, and you belong here with me. We belong together. Always, Maxon. Always.”
He slumped to the floor. So tired. So tired.
Rolling onto his back, he stared at the darkness that danced on her ceiling.
Tingles spread across his skin when she snuggled against him.
She rested her head on his chest.
He winced.
He regretted it the second that he let his weakness show because she scrambled to sit up and jerked at his shirt.
“Did he do it again?” she gasped in horror.
Frantically, her little hands tried to expose him. To lift the fabric. To show off his vulnerabilities.
He didn’t want her to know how weak that he was.
He grabbed at her, trying to stop her frenzied search. “Please. Don’t.”
His daddy had gone on one of his drunken rages, coming after Mack when he hadn’t gotten the wheels off a car he’d been stripping in the shed fast enough.
Instantly, the tirade had gotten physical, the vicious words coming from his father’s mouth turning to the loss of Mack’s mama, the way they always did.
The way she’d died in that fiery car crash.
Blaming it on the Lanes for making her pack her things and run.
It’d been Mack’s idea, though. His fault. He’d begged his mama for them just to go.
To go somewhere else. Somewhere better. Somewhere where he could keep her safe.
Even if it meant being away from Izzy for a while. He would have gone back. Found her.
His mama had been on her way to get him at school. His backpack stuffed with his things had been hidden in the woods behind the schoolyard, ready to go.
She’d never shown.
Only a police officer had been there hours later when he’d finally gone back to his house, there to tell his daddy that his mama was gone.
“I hate him, Maxon. I hate him, I hate him. I’m gonna tell my mama.”
This time, he gripped Izzy’s wrists. Hard. “You can’t do that. You know the only thing it’s going to do is make him madder, and he’ll just hit me harder.”
It wasn’t like anyone was gonna do anything about it, anyway. It didn’t matter how much people acted like they cared. In the end, they always turned a blind eye. A lame excuse enough to explain it all away.
It’d been that way his entire life. Except for the Lanes. They were the only ones who’d really cared. They’d tried to get custody of him when his mama had passed. Funny how that judge had declared his daddy fit.
Izzy slumped down, her voice going soft. “It’s not fair.”
No.
It wasn’t.
Guilt beat a path through his body.
Lying there, he had to wonder if he really was meant to be there with Izzy at all.