“C-can I come over?” her voice quivered. “I can’t handle it, Ila. I’m so afraid I’ll break and call Craig, I need someone to wallop me over the head until I come to my senses.”
I blew out a rough sigh. “Sure, come on over. I’ll get the”—I mentally ran over my liquor contents. I had wine and a half bottle of tequila—“I’ll make margaritas.”
At least being with Charli would keep my mind off the gnawing ache in my chest and stop me from obsessing over why Max, who always faced any setback head-on, had left me behind.
Chapter Fourteen
Max
Reverberating phantom cries pulled me out of the nightmare I was trapped in, and into a jackhammer of a pounding behind my eyes.Christ!
I ground my molars, wanting to tear out my eyeballs. The scent of brewed coffee made my belly churn. The beer from last night backtracked up my throat. I pushed off the couch and stumbled for the toilet near the stairway, collapsed to my knees, and vomited into the bowl, then dry heaved as my stomach tried to force its way up my throat.
Sweating and shaking, I slouched against the wall. Pills. Needed them. That meant moving.
At the thought of Logan finding me like this—
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Using the wall as a crutch, I pushed up from the floor, got the pills from my tote, popped two. Back in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and splashed cold water on my face.
My senses still clouded with pain, I opened the bathroom door. Logan stood there, wearing yoga pants and a faded tee. My heart clopped hard like it had the first moment I saw her. Unable to face her when I was feeling this low, I walked past, hoping she wouldn’t follow.
“Max, wait—” She grasped my forearm, her worried gaze searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m late for my run.” I sidestepped her, had no idea if I’d be running or crawling on my knees once outside, but I had to get out of here until the pain subsided. The resurging dreams, the stress, along with lack of sleep for so many years was taking a toll on me. Besides, I could be a dick when in the grip of another nightmare-induced headache. More, I didn’t want to take my frustration out on her.
“Max, don’t shut me out. Talk to me.”
Shaking my head just plain fucking hurt, so I pulled free and strode back to the couch, retrieved my t-shirt from the floor and pulled it on. I shoved my feet into sneakers then headed for the front door.
She blocked me, and before I opened my mouth, she said, “Yes, I know you don’t need my help.” Those golden eyes flashed in a fit of temper. “You’re all big and strong, you don’t need anyone, but dammit, I’m right here.”
“Did you fight him like you do me?”
She frowned. “What?”
I realized I should talk, get this shit roiling inside my head since yesterday out in the open—about her and her ex—but I needed my brain to function first. “I gotta go.”
“I’ll join you.”
“You can’t keep up with me.”
She spun around for the foyer, got her Nikes out from the cupboard under the stairs, and slipped them on, and totally ignoring me, she headed outside into the drizzle. Thick fog hung over the tall buildings and snaked lower down to the streets. It suited my pissy mood.
I took off in a hard run. Uh, fuck! My brain jarred inside my skull like it’d loosened with each pounding step. Pain speared me in retaliation. Goddammit, let the damn pills kick in soon.
Still too frustrated with her to talk, I remained silent and wallowed in my ire. But she kept up easily with me, surprising me. Clearly, jealousy amplified my dickweed tendencies. When I’d seen her asshole ex touch her then kiss her, I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands. But the fact thatshedidn’t say anything about it—thatgutted me. She was mine.Mine!
Christ. I needed to calm down. Fits of temper and grinding my teeth didn’t help with my aching head.
Ten minutes into the run, as we approached the neighborhood park, she slowed. Wheezed, “Y-yeah… I’m not gonna—” Another gasp. “—m-make it.” She veered toward the kids’ park.
I continued for a few minutes.Dammit!Cursing silently, I circled back and found her seated on a swing, in the drizzle, phone in hand. She didn’t look up as I crossed to her.
I swiped the sweat and rain from my face, grateful the pounding in my head had eased to a dull ache, one only sleep could cure. But that was like wishing for the moon.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m collecting the treasures from the chests, then I can get new ones in three hours,” she said, like I’d asked about the damn game. She continued tapping on the display with a ragged nail, water running down her face in rivulets. “Dammit, Logan, go back to the apartment so I can finish my run.”
