“Britt!” Max comes inside, holding a takeout bag in one hand and pulling me into a hug with the other.
I stiffen in his embrace. It feels… wrong, weird. I wriggle out of his hold and lock the three deadbolts behind him. Max wrinkles his brow at the sight of so many locks, but says nothing.
“I uh, brought tacos from your favorite place.” He stares at his feet uncomfortably and holds out the bag.
“Thanks, Max.” Stop stressing, Britt. This is Max.
I relax, finally able to think somewhat rationally. Max isn’t a fighter, he can’t protect me, but having someone else here with me is better than being alone. I head into the kitchen and pull out a couple of plates, quickly dishing out the food.
Once seated at my tiny table, Max begins his interrogation. “So, are you okay?” His eyes take in my disheveled, unwashed appearance.
I should be embarrassed, but I could care less right now. Looks are the last thing on my list of things to worry about. “I’m fine. I’ll be back at work Thursday.”
“Not tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m having lunch with my mother. I haven’t seen her in a while and she’s… talkative.”
Max lets out a strained laugh, but if he only knew. I’m sure my mother is making a last-ditch attempt to bully me into attending the upcoming ten-year anniversary of “the incident.” Why I agreed to meet her, I don’t know. I was at the airport in Vegas, fleeing Keller’s rejection—that look of pity he gave me. I was so distraught at the time, I said yes to my mom without thinking.
We finish eating in silence. Max helps bring the dishes into the kitchen. He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, and it’s awkward. I walk to the door, hoping he’ll take the hint.
He does, following me, stopping much too close. I back up, pressed against the door, the locks digging into my spine.
“Britt…” Max raises a hand to touch my face.
I flinch, turning my head to the side to avoid his fingers. The panic I finally had under control surges in my chest, squeezing, tightening, closing in on all sides.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
His hand drops, curling up at his side. “Why him? Huh, Britt? He’s a fucking psycho. You deserve better.”
I’m both shocked at Max’s hostility, yet I expected it at the same time. “I’m not explaining myself to you.” I shimmy to the side and unlock the bolts, holding the door open. “Thank you for dinner.”
Max scowls. I see him struggling to hold his tongue. With a narrowing of his eyes and a quick nod of his head, Max slips out the door. I slam it shut, flipping the bolts.
My lungs constrict, the panic I held back bursting though the dam, flooding my body. I sink to the floor, lightheaded, numb, alone, and curled up in a ball.
Keller. I need Keller.
Keller
Done with practice, I sit on a bench to pull my gloves off with my teeth and begin unwrapping my hands.
“Good session, man.” Sawyer North, one of the other fighters, nods in my direction.
I throw on my hoodie and cover my head, letting it fall over my eyes. “Yeah.”
We grappled for about an hour and while he’s good, he’s no match for me. I held back several times just to make it challenging.
North leaves without another word. He knows. He saw it in the cage, the monster. Freaked him the fuck out, too, I could tell. At least I know Britt didn’t turn me completely soft. I pack up my stuff, slinging my bag on my shoulder.
Tomorrow, I’ll see Britt again. I have to stay detached. So we fucked, big deal. I’ve fucked lots of women. I don’t need her and I don’t feel anything. I can’t feel.
“Hey, Killer.”
As much as I want to avoid everyone here, the snide tone has me turning to see who the asshole is. Max. Creepy little fuck. He’s got balls of steel to speak to me, I’ll give him that.
I wait, staring, letting the icy silence speak for me.