“Listen to the hoe, or your dick won’t be getting wet tonight.”
Yep, the guy has a death wish. Not even a second passes before Max starts to stalk over to him, giving him the scariest look I have ever seen before wrapping his hand around his neck. The other guys start to back away, shit scared of the possessed man in a business suit in front of them.
The drunken man's face starts to turn red, but Max doesn’t ease up; he just stares. The life behind his eyes is gone now. The playfulness from the bar earlier is a thing of the past.
“Apologise.” He says simply in an unnatural calmness.
I think the guy tries to respond, but can’t as he gasps for breath. All Max does is tilt his head to the side.
“Any time today.” He taunts. “I’m all for a good joke. But that wasn’t a very nice thing to say to someone you don’t know, was it? So, apologise.”
“So-sorry.” He stammers as his hands claw at Max’s.
“Very good.” Max lets go then, and he drops to the floor like a sack of shit, panting as he rubs at his neck.
“What the fuck?” He squeaks out.
“Max, can we just go. Please.” My voice trembles, as tears sting my eyes.
Without another word, he spins on his heel and takes my hand again, steering me back to the car. I hurriedly climb into the passenger seat and slam the door behind me.
What the fuck just happened?
I haven’t seen this side of Max in a very long time. I guess not much has changed since we were younger. He has always been the one to jump to my defence, but his tactics haven’t always been the legal way.
I remember being seventeen and on a date with Simon, one of the popular boys from school. We had pulled up at the end of our street when he tried it on with me. I’d kissed him and didn’t want to take it any further, but he did. I got out of the car and ran as soon as he turned nasty about it. It’s funny, really. When I was young, every boy I turned down would call me a whore. I was halfway home when Max found me in an absolute state. Once I was calm enough to tell him what had happened, he was so angry that he punched a hole in the living room wall!
The next morning, it was all over social media that Simon’s car had been smashed up. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who did it.
I’m snapped back to reality when his door opens and he slides into the car, not even glancing in my direction. The rest of the journey is the same, neither one of us speaking a word. Even in the elevator up to his apartment.
I would usually try to break the silence with a joke, but right now I’m so shook up I can’t find the words. I’m standing in the middle of the living room when he walks past me and straight up to the second floor to the bedroom. I don’t know what to do. I could go to my studio, as that always helps, but even I know my body has done way too much today. My choices are to stay on the couch for the night or face his moody ass and get into bed.
I’m still debating what my best course of action is, when he coughs to get my attention. He is on the top step of the stairs, watching me.
“I know I didn’t handle tonight very well, but I can’t sleep without you near me.” He says with his voice low. “Will you come up to bed? We can talk properly tomorrow?”
He looks so fucking sad.
I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to.
