“And I can’t be here. Sorry about the party.” Jerking open the front door, I stumbled out into the pelting rain. Pain bleeding into me, I tore down the street and cut through a gloomy thoroughfare, trying to escape the whirlpool of darkness closing in on me.
Finally, running out of steam, I slowed down and leaned against the wall of a shadowy building. My tote fell to the sidewalk with a thud. Panting harshly, I rubbed my eyes, banged my head against the hard surface behind me, trying to dislodge the screams from my mind. I might have run to Peru to escape, but I couldn’t outrun my nightmares, the accident, or my fucking faulty memory, with its holes the size of the Grand Canyon.
The blast of my cell cut through the drumming rain, piercing through the pained haze I was trapped in. I retrieved it from my jeans pocket.
“Maxwell?” A girl’s breathy voice filled my ear.
Shit, not now. “How did you get this number?”
“Don’t be mad. It’s Anabel. I told Jack I had a special birthday present for you, so he gave it to me. Why did you leave yourownbirthday party?” Her scolding tone grated on my already raw nerves. “It’s barely seven. Where are you? I’ll come over, and we can celebrate together. We had such a wonderful time before you took off for Peru.”
I had no idea who the hell she was. Or cared. At this point, the women all blurred together. I slept with them, took what their bodies offered—a brief moment of forgetfulness.
And they wanted a piece of me, of who I was, heir to a dynasty of pain and death. The fact that it was backed by money made it more appealing. Added to my temper more unpredictable than the fault lines of San Francisco, and my penchant for getting into fights. Yeah, I was the ultimate dangerous draw.
I could hang up. Bottom line? She wouldn’t give up now that she had my number. Jack was so fucking dead.
“I don’t date, don’t do relationships. I fuck and leave—”
“Damn you, Max,” she shrieked as if I’d broken her heart. I disconnected the call. They knew the rules when they hooked up with me. Still, they tried for more. Every time.
With my head buzzing from sleep deprivation, I moved like a robot on autopilot and continued down the street. Had no idea where I was going, just hoping for something to pull me back from the nightmare that wouldn’t quit. Longing for an end. For silence.
Scrubbing a hand over my burning eyes, and wet to the bone, I slowed, stopping beneath the awning of a darkened shop. Cars swished by on the busy street. Buildings loomed. I had no idea where I was, probably somewhere deeper in the city. The bright lights streaming out of the huge windows of a laundromat opposite me drew my attention. The ebb and flow of people as they came and went, none lingering beyond the job… the way I wished my life would be.
My cell beeped. About to switch it off, I hesitated at the abridged message.Hey, Maximus—you okay?
It took a moment to make sense of the text. Ray. She was the only one who persisted in calling me that name. Said I reminded her of a horse from some Disney movie. Stubborn and aloof but with a marshmallow heart.
True. Except for the latter. Yeah, I had one, all right. It simply didn’t function any longer.
Ignoring the text, I reclaimed my lighter and a half-smoked cigarette from a squashed pack in my jeans pocket, put the thing between my lips, and lit it. My gaze returned to the bright lights on the opposite side of the street. Leaning against the darkened windows of the tailoring shop behind me, I blew smoke skyward.
The few people in the laundromat cleared out after a while, and as the last woman left, another walked into the brightly lit place. The girl dropped her bag on top of the machine, then picked up something from the floor. A small, navy t-shirt. She dashed outside, looked left and right, then took off after the woman. “Hey? Excuse me,” she yelled. “I think this is yours!”
I didn’t know what the hell it was, her voice—her—but everything inside me stilled. Quieted. Before starting up again. My heart pounded hard like it was minutes from escaping its cage just so it could be with her.
A car droned by, and the rain continued in a rustle, drowning out her conversation with the other woman. I didn’t care. Mesmerized, I watched her as she handed over the shirt. And with no idea of the upheaval she’d caused inside me, she calmly headed back, pulling out white earbuds from her pocket and popping them into her ears.
In the shelter of the laundromat, she peeled off her jacket and tossed it on an orange chair there, revealing a tank top and dark yoga pants riding low on her hips. Moments later, her laundry sorted, she dumped them into two machines. The chore done, she stepped back, rolling her neck and shoulders, the movements sliding down her spine. With liquid grace, she undulated, moving her hips to whatever song played in her ears. And I stared, held captive.
As she danced, something inside me loosened and eased, as if she soothed the part of me that remained in constant pain and turmoil. She spun around once more and halted just as quickly, casting a wary look around, then she smiled wryly. She radiated like a glowing light bulb.
If I walked over, would she let me into some of the light burning so brightly within her? Because the cold seeping into my soul, one no jacket could ever warm, was slowly killing me. Even my messed-up brain understood that.
As if under a hypnotic spell, and before my thoughts connected with reality, my feet were moving across the pavement, back into the drizzle, wanting to get to her. A car blared its horn as I crossed the street. I barely heard it.
I neared the open door, and her cell erupted, sounding like a gunshot. I tripped on the curb and back into awareness. Then I just stood there, staring at her like some stalker. Her pretty, tan features tightened as she glowered at her phone.
“Why now?” her frustrated words drifted to me. She shoved back her dark, wavy hair with an impatient hand. Then, in a fast move, her fingers flew over the display as if deleting the text.
The urge to go over and ask what was wrong took hold, but hell, I couldn’t handle my own shit, how would I help her? I exhaled roughly.
My cell vibrated. I snatched the device from my pocket and swiped the screen. Ray.
If you don’t call me in exactly one minute, I’m telling the tabloids you stole my cell. Jack called me.
My teeth clacked down. I turned away from the laundromat and speed-dialed the bastard. He answered on the first ring. “You okay, man?”
