Purple Method

by Victoria Milne

“Oh, thank fuck,” Tony said.

  “Can we see him?” Rick asked.

  “Are you family?”

  Tony looked around at them but avoided looking Rick in the eyes. “Yeah. We’re all his family.”

  The doctor clearly didn’t believe him, but he smiled kindly. “One at a time and don’t stay long. He needs to rest.”

  Tony went in first, and when he came back five minutes later, his eyes were puffy and red, but he looked calmer. “He’s doing okay,” Tony said. “He’s still pretty out of it, but he’s looking better. I don’t think he’ll be awake much longer.”

  “Rick, why don’t you go in next,” Sian said.

  “Thank you,” Rick said and rushed to Max’s ward. He had the bed by the window, and he looked so pale it was scary. Rick sat on the chair by his bed and gently squeezed Max’s hand. Max’s eyelids strained to open, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “I’m so sorry, Max,” Rick said and began to cry, holding Max’s hand to his cheek and sobbing—with relief that Max was okay, regret for being the reason he was lying there, and with shame for not treating Max as an equal in their relationship. He would never, ever make that mistake again—if Max could find it within himself to forgive him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Max

  A HEADACHE from hell hit Max as he drifted into consciousness. He groaned and blinked awake, cursing as blinding lights invaded his eyes. His mouth was uncomfortably dry, and his limbs felt as though they were weighed down, too heavy to move. This had to be the worst hangover of his life.

  “Max.” Rick’s voice pounded through his head, and he felt his warm hand close around his, but the heat was intolerable. He winced and wriggled his fingers until Rick let go. “How are you feeling?”

  Opening his eyes and taking in the clinical surroundings of the white walls and sickly green curtains around his bed, he panicked. Why wasn’t he at home? What was this place? “Where am I?”

  “In the hospital.”

  “What?” Max sat up, and his body punished him with a severity of pain he’d never felt before. Even the light sheets covering his body were unbearable against his skin, and he cried out in agony.

  “You’re okay, it’s okay,” Rick said. “The doctors said not to worry about the pain; it’ll ease soon enough. How much do you remember about what happened?”

  Rick helped him lie back down, and Max thought back to the previous day as his discomfort settled. Everything was hazy. Like his memories weren’t his own, and yet were ingrained deep within. A jumbled mess of weird sensations and dark, terrifying images that felt too real, like he’d lived through a nightmare.

  “What happened?” Max said, unsure if he wanted to hear the truth. Speaking with such a dry throat was painful. “Can I get something to drink?”

  “The nurse left you some ice chips. Here.” Rick helped him with them, and the coolness against the heat of his mouth felt really good. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so dehydrated before. “You were hit by a car.” Max relaxed back and crunched on the chips as he tried to make sense of what Rick had told him.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “About seventeen hours. It happened last night, and it’s three in the afternoon now. How much do you remember about yesterday?”

  Max thought back to the music store where he’d bought new bass strings, and then he squeezed his eyes shut as everything came flooding back: seeing Rick in the MMA gym, finding out Rick had been lying to him, and then talking to the guy in the bar and buying the drugs in the hope he could make all of it go away. He opened his eyes and stared at Rick. “You’re leaving me.”

  “No. I’m not leaving you, Max. Please let me make this right.” Rick clasped Max’s hand again and brought it to his lips. His voice was desperate and pleading, and he looked to be close to tears.

  Max swallowed the last of the ice chips and turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling. He was numb from the emotional roller coaster of the last twenty-four hours. It had been such a shock to find out that Rick had been lying to him when he’d trusted him completely. “How do I know you won’t do that to me again?” Max asked.

  “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never keep anything from you again. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that you can trust me.”

  “Why, Rick?” Max turned to look at him again. “After everything you said yesterday… nothing’s changed apart from the fact that I’m lying here. If you’re feeling guilty over what happened to me, there’s no need, really. You don’t have to do this. Trying to force things to work between us won’t make it right. Don’t you think it would be better for both of us if we called it a day?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Tears pricked Max’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want. Soon we’ll be living thousands of miles apart.”

  “If I said I’d still be living in Elfinbrook for over four months of the year, would that change your mind?” Rick’s grip on his hand tightened. “I’ll be back there loads, Max. With the money I’ll be making, I’ll even be able to get my own place in Elfinbrook. Elfinbrook’s my home. Where I want to be. With you. Will you give me another chance? Please?”

  Max wanted more than anything to say yes, but he was terrified of getting his heart broken. He wasn’t sure he could cope with going through this pain again. It was excruciating.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Max. The reason I didn’t tell you was… it was because I didn’t want to risk losing you. Everything was so perfect between us. I didn’t know how to tell you without ruining what we had.” Rick was crying now, and Max blinked furiously to stop his own tears. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I don’t want to lose you. Please. Please give me another chance.”

  Max’s heart froze, and then it was pounding in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Rick was falling in love with him? Had he heard him right? Max’s hands were tingling, and he closed his fingers around Rick’s hand.

  Rick looked up at him in surprise, and as the realization struck, a disbelieving smile crept onto his face. “Are you…? Does this mean…? Are we…?”

  Max gave him a tired smile. “It means that I forgive you.”

  Rick collapsed against him, holding him tight. “Thank you. Oh my God. Thank you. I was so sure you’d say no.” Max winced, his body tensing, still so sensitive to touch. The pain was easing, but he was exhausted.

  The relief that everything was going to be okay with Rick was overwhelming, and fatigue washed over Max as if he hadn’t slept for several days. He closed his eyes and barely heard Rick speaking to him as he drifted off, fighting the dark nightmares as sleep took him under.

  THE NEXT day, Max was discharged, and Rick, Tony, Sian, and Kyle took him back to the hotel in a cab. They all looked exhausted, and he felt a spike of guilt that he’d put them through this.

  “How are you feeling?” Sian asked Max.

  “Much better.” That wasn’t even a lie. His limbs still felt heavy, and he had a lot of bruising, but the sensitivity had gone. The pain meds were doing their job. He looked sheepishly at his friends. “I’m sorry I put you all through this.”

  “We’re just relieved you’re okay,” Sian said. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.” She stared at Max. “We’re the ones who should be apologizing. We’re all really sorry you didn’t feel like you could talk to us about something so important.”

  “You could’ve killed yourself.” Tony smacked his arm. “Pull anything like this again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Tony!” Rick reached for Max’s hand.

  “What?”

  Tony’s cell began to ring, blaring out “Someplace to Hide,” and he fumbled to remove it from his pocket.

  Max laughed. “Do you have a song I wrote as your ringtone?”

  “Shut up,” he grumbled and blushed. “I was worried.” He let his cell go to voicemail and then set it to silent. “Whoever it is can wait.”

  Max allowed himself to relax as
he held Rick’s hand in public for the first time ever. It felt weird doing this out in the open without needing to hide; it was going to take some getting used to—in the best possible way. It felt so right, and Max decided there and then that he wasn’t going to hide their relationship once they got back home.

  When they got back to the hotel, Tony, Sian, and Kyle went to their rooms to get some sleep, and Max relaxed in bed while Rick went to get them some takeout food from Camden market. They were going to try the filled Indian puris breads that had looked and smelled delicious the other day. Rick didn’t waste any time and put the parcels down on the bed when he returned.

  “Mm, these are delicious,” Max said as he took his first bite. “I need to learn how to make these.”

  “They are good. But they’re not exactly healthy.”

  “Yeah, but you won’t be fighting in the octagon anymore, though. You don’t need to worry so much now about what you’re eating.”

  Rick laughed and kissed the side of Max’s head. “I still have to get in the ring with those fighters and spar with them. They’re top athletes. I’ll get my ass kicked if I’m not in shape.”

  “Remember the time you tried to cook me Philly cheesesteaks?” Max chuckled and took another bite of his puris.

  “You were distracting me,” Rick grumbled.

  “And then your mom shouted at you for nearly burning down her kitchen again.” Max laughed. “Have you told her you’ll be moving out yet?”

  “No, not yet. I can’t wait to have my own place.” He relaxed back against the wall and pulled Max closer. “If I give you a key, will you go around there and check on it for me while I’m away?”

  Max stared at him. “You’re gonna give me a key?”

  “Don’t you want one?”

  Max put his puris to one side and kissed him. “Of course I want a key. Where are you gonna stay when you’re in London?”

  “With Neil and Dietmar. They’ve got a spare room. That’s if Dietmar is speaking to me by then. You’re lucky the riot brought him a load of publicity. Neil said the night after there were people lined up along the street, trying to get in. They had to turn half of them away.”

  “That’s good.” Max snuggled against Rick. “I’m sorry for causing problems for your friend. It is a shame we won’t get to play again while we’re here.” He grimaced. “And I need to get another guitar.”

  “Don’t worry about that for now. I’ll help you find an even better bass guitar once we get home. We’ll pay Hugh a visit as soon as we get back.”

  “So… we have five more days here in London now we’ve changed our flights. What do you want to do while we’re here?”

  Rick pressed his lips to Max’s ear, making him shiver. “I have a few ideas. I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

  VICTORIA MILNE discovered fiction writing relatively late in life, back in 2012, and has loved every second of the journey. Her belief that life is one big adventure to be experienced to the max has stood her in good stead, but it has resulted in rather a lot of plot bunnies that don’t give her a minute’s peace!

  A firm believer that consensual love should come without labels and without prejudice, these themes often appear in her stories, as do Victoria’s passions for martial arts, cooking, yoga, and loud music. It was no surprise when these subjects began to resonate in her writing, frequently taking center stage, and rather than fighting it she’s learned to accept and enjoy that these will always be indispensable elements in her work.

  Although Victoria appreciates that stories don’t always have to have happy endings, hers always do—because everybody deserves to find their true love(s).

  In 2016, Love Unlocked—the anthology in which her story “Writer’s Lock” was published—was a Rainbow Award finalist. The experience fueled her desire to learn as much about the mechanics of writing as she could. In 2017 Victoria completed her training with the Society for Editors and Proofreaders and became a full-time freelance editor. Victoria has always loved reading, and still can’t quite believe she’s been lucky enough to not only create books of her own but also help other writers perfect theirs too!

  Website: www.purplemethod.net

  Facebook: fb.me/victoriamilneauthor

  Twitter: @victoria_milne_

  By Victoria Milne

  PURPLE METHOD

  Purple Method

  Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Published by

  DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Purple Method

  © 2019 Victoria Milne

  Cover Art

  © 2019 Garrett Leigh

  http://www.blackjazzdesign.com/

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64405-342-3

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-64405-341-6

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019900690

  Digital published July 2019

  v. 1.0

  Printed in the United States of America