Conclusion
“Why am I doing this again?” I ask Max, scrolling down a website on Tyler’s laptop. We both sit on his comfortable rug on his living room floor, still in our formal attire.
“You need to be informed about Hunter. Maybe you’ll see what everyone else sees.” He peers at the screen over my shoulder. Max wanted me to Google traits of a sociopath. “Now read them.” I begin silently reading in my head. “Uh-uh. Out loud, Isabel. Read them out loud.”
I grit my teeth. It’s like I’m being chastised and reprimanded for something that isn’t entirely my fault. “Will you show me the tape after?”
“Yes. Now read.”
Sighing, I tap down on the mouse. “Manipulative and cunning.”
“They never recognize the rights of others and see their self-serving behaviors as permissible. They appear charming, yet are covertly hostile and domineering. Check one. Next.”
“Shallow emotions.”
“When they show what seems to be warmth, love, and compassion it’s more feigned than experienced and serves as an ulterior motive. Check two. Next.”
“Need for stimulation.”
“Verbal outburst and physical punishments.” He gives his head a slight shake with mock amusement. “Didn’t he spank you and assault you on more than one occasion? Check three. Next.”
I force myself to swallow. “Poor behavioral and impulsive nature.”
“Rage and abuse, alternating with small expressions of love and approval produce an addictive cycle for abuser and abused. No sense of personal boundaries, no concern for their impact on others. How many times has he made you feel that way? Check four. Next.”
My hands are trembling. I try to hide them in my lap. “Lack of remorse, shame, and guilt.”
“They do not see others as people, but only as targets and opportunities. Instead of friends, they have victims and accomplices who end up as victims. The end result is always justified that means they let nothing stand in their way—”
“Enough Max. Please. Enough.” I slam the laptop shut and recline my back towards the couch. A severe sweat breaks across my skin, my chest is heaving, and my heart is pounding in my ears.
“Oh, but wait…this is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s the pathological lying, superficial charm—”
“Max, stop. I get it.”
He stands and drops in an elegant crouch in front of me, his assessing eyes gauging my reaction. “But you still love him, though.”
My brows furrow, my expression is bewildered. “I can’t stop loving him, Max. Is that what you’re asking me to do?” Because that’s impossible.
He looks guilty but it’s only briefly; Max’s anger rages on. “You want to see the video? Okay. Fine.” Max stands and yanks a remote from the coffee table. He presses a button, powering on the massive flat screen. A plain blue screen comes to life. He presses another button, but the image is so dark that I have to squint to see it clearly. There, on The Suicide Bridge, I make out two figures in black coats that are standing in the never-ending rain. As the video begins to play, I realize that it’s Tyler and he is talking to…No. I scoot up until my nose is practically shoved against the TV screen. There’s no mistaking it. The person he’s talking to is Hunter. Hunter appears to be yelling at him. Tyler takes a few cautious steps back, afraid of Hunter. Hunter then grips him by the labels of his raincoat, yanking him off the ground.
I screw my eyes shut and sniff, attempting to stifle the swelling of a hysterical wail, but it’s useless. I burst into sobs.
“Checkmate.” Max flicks off the TV and squats, scooping me up from the floor. He takes me into his bedroom and lays me on the bed. Max lovingly strokes my hair. I cling on to him with everything I have.
Hunter did it.
Hunter killed my brother.
God, how was I so blind?
“I knew this was going to be hard for you.” He kisses my tear-stained cheek and stretches his arm out, grabbing something from his stand. “Here, this will help you get through tonight.” He pushes a open bottle of vodka to my lips. I drink the scorching liquid through woeful sobs and hiccups. It doesn’t take me long to drain half the bottle.
“Why did he do it? I loved him so much. This can’t be happening.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. He’s just really sick, Pumpkin. I found that tape well-hidden in my father’s safe at home. I think my dad was protecting Grace. I have to make a few calls. We have to catch him before he does something else drastic and dangerous.”
“Why would he be protecting Grace?”
“My dad has been in love with Grace since before I was born. They were really close once. It was years ago though. Something huge happened between them. They don’t talk much at all these days.”
“What’s going to happen now?”
“I’m going to hand over the tape to Chief. He’s going to take it from there. My dad will disown me, but I don’t care.”
Max is my prince.
He’s betraying his own father for me.
He chooses me.
“Why are you doing this, Max?”
He shrugs. “I thought the alcohol could help knock you out for a bit. You’re going to need your rest.”
“No, not the vodka. Why are you choosing me? Am I really worth what you’re risking?”
His eyes narrow and his head jerks. Max inclines very close, gazing into my tear-brimmed eyes. My brows snap together because what I see in their depths has me mystified and horrified all at once. We breathe in each other’s air for what seems like an endless moment suspended in time. He gingerly smooths the deep wrinkles between my brows and presses his index finger into the soft spot there. “He really messed you up inside of here. Isabel, you’re worth every damn risk in the world. Furthermore, love is the biggest factor here.”
“You love me?” I sniff.
He gives me a mournful smile, wiping my nose with the edge of his dress shirt. “It’s kind of difficult not to love you. I’ve loved you for a very long, long time now.”
“Max,” I breathe. A bunch of tulle, lace, and satin from my gown moves with me as I snuggle closer into Max, leaning completely into him. I’m so close to him right now. If I shift just a tiny bit, I can actually kiss him.
Glistening eyes stare back at me. “Pumpkin,” he caresses the side of my face, “you don’t have to do anything but breathe. You owe me nothing. I didn’t do this to gain your affection. We can let things take their natural course, if you think there is even a course to be taken.”
“Kiss me, Max.”
His burning gaze drops to my lips, he swallows nervously. “I don’t think we—”
I smash my mouth against his, running my tongue at the seam of his lips. He moans, and my tongue dips inside his sweet mouth. I drank him in. It’s like having a refreshing glass of chilled lemonade after a long and tiring day. Max rejuvenates my heart that has been obliterated so many times. My hands are frantic as they fumble and tug on his belt buckle, desperately trying to undo it. I don’t fully understand why sex means so much to me, why it’s essential to my romantic love life.
I just need him inside of me.
He wedges himself between my legs, planting gentle but ravenous kisses down the side of my neck. He kisses me right behind my ear and I shudder. “Max, please.” When he attempts to undress, I stop him. “Leave it on. I can’t wait that long.”
Something in him awakens. Max stares at me, his chest heaving and his breathing labored. He shuts his eyes as if pained and our foreheads meet. He slides his nose down mine and kisses the corners of my mouth, sending tingles and heat everywhere throughout my body. “We don’t have to do this. You’re really wasted right now. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you in the most vulnerable moment of your life.”
Do good guys like Max Gabai really exist?
I guess my answer is looking me in the face.
He kisses me on the cheek like something cherished, like something that means the world to him, as if I just might break if not handled with care. The familiar wail is building in my chest again. “Stop treating me like I’m precious, Max. I am not.”
He smooths wisps of hair from my sweaty face. “But you are, Isabel.” His lips lightly brush against mine. Through the tears, I inhale sharply. His supple lips move delicately over mine as he talks and looks intently into my eyes. “You’re incredibly precious to me. So unbelievably precious. You are loved. You are treasured. You are cherished. I can see treating you like this makes you uncomfortable, but I have to warn you that your uneasiness will only peak from this point onward, because I’m going to break down every barrier and I’m going to remind you every chance I get that you’re worth more than my weight in gold.”
My heart hurts.
We gaze at each other.
A second later, I burst into more tears until I black out.