"So, do you want to have Max Butcher's baby?"
Pulling my knees up, I cuddle them tight. "It's happening anyway."
"You could abort," he states with ease. Those words lodge themselves in my throat. Immediately, I look around for Carter, finding him a few metres away. Swallowing hard, I turn back to Toni. "I couldn't."
"What if Max doesn't want it?"
"I—" Realisation hits me. "I can't abort. No matter what. I'm kind of afraid he'll secretly hate me for this, but I still can't. He's still getting used to me and now this?Gawd. Have I ruined his life?"
Toni twists to face me, lifting one knee to the side. "Firstly, you couldn't ruin anyone's life, darlin’. Secondly... I presume by what you have just said that you haven't told him yet?"
Cringing a little, I shake my head.
His mouth drops open. "Fuckidy fuck. Why not?"
I glance away, staring off into the distance. "I only just found out and last night... I didn't stay at his."
He hums with contemplation. "And... why not? You've been getting humped by that man-god every night since?—"
"Since the attack," I blurt out, "we don’t. I mean, we try, but it never ends well."
"Is that why you went home? Is he pressuring you?"
"No. God no." I smile at that truth. "He'd never."
"So..." He tilts his head knowingly. "You started to talk and then stopped. Last night what?"
"Last night, Max came to me." Feeling uneasy about sharing this intimate information, I squirm a little with discomfort. I keep Max's secrets. His vulnerable side is just for me; sharing this... it feels like I'm betraying his trust. Andyet, I need to tell Toni something. I hate lying to him. "He was really tense. Really... I can't think of another word. Like, intimidating... And he has all these bruises and cuts on his face, and he wouldn't tell me the truth about how he got them. I... saw—" My eyes flicker with unease. Angry eyes. Scarred skin. Dark mien. "Well, the guy who attacked me had all these scars. And I saw him. I couldn’t unsee it. And I just... couldn't be with Max last night."
He wraps one long arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him. "Don't feel guilty. You're allowed to feel however you want to."
"Max said the same thing." I sigh, thinking about how patient he's been. How understanding.
Frick, what is wrong with me?
Trying to rationalise an irrational thing, I say, "He's a lot, you know? And he's gone a lot. He disappears some nights." I laugh contemptuously. "I'm not allowed to know what he's doing. I always feel a little lost in his world. Like I'm in a maze."
"A maze?" he confirms, lifting a perfectly manicured eyebrow that usually only proceeds mockery. "With like a minotaur and a fairy?"
I groan with exasperation. "Yes."
He nods as if he's on my wavelength, but the whole concept is a big joke to him. "Is Max the minotaur?"
Rolling my eyes, I just agree. "Yes."
He grins. "Am I the fairy?"
"Yes," I groan, releasing my knees and rubbing my temples with my forefingers. "Thank you. I'm so glad you could stay on track with this analogy."
"Sorry. Okay, so you're in a maze. I get it. You're lost in the big, sculptured hedges of his being. Isn't the maze exciting though? That's why you went in in the firstplace."
I smile at that. "Itisexciting."
"Good." He squeezes my shoulder. "Don't let them win. Control those fucking memories. They are yours. Push them aside. Don't let them win, darlin’."
Control.
It's always about control.
