by Jolie Day
“That’s not her fault and you know it,” his sister admonished, giving him that look; the one he used to fear every time he borrowed something of hers as a kid without asking permission. That look that came with a punishment and a stern talking to. Suddenly, he felt like an eight-year-old boy again. Only Carol could do that to him.
“I know,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s me she’s been waiting for, is all I’m saying.”
“You never know,” she replied. “She called me Carol the other day.” She gave him a soft smile and a shrug. “Like she really remembered me.” Her face clouded. “Then she had the stroke and…” Carol dissolved into another round of tears and sobs and Max pulled her against his chest, rubbing her back.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She pulled away from him and wiped at her eyes furiously. “No, it’s not!” she growled. “Mom is dying, Max! And you go off to wherever the hell you were when I called and I’m left alone to take care of her! She’s been my whole life these last couple of years and now I’m going to lose her! Do you understand that? I’m about to lose the only person who’s ever relied on me and then you’re going to go and do whatever the hell you want to do and I’m going to be all alone, in Mom’s house, surrounded by all of our family photos. And I just…” She shook her head, her chin quivering, but pulled away when Max stepped forward to comfort her. “Just go,” she said. “Go say goodbye to your mother—while you still have time.”
Max took a deep breath and nodded, turning silently and heading into the hospital room. He almost lost all feeling in his legs at the sight that met him.
His mother—his strong, willful, loving, beautiful mother—was hooked up to several machines, wires sticking out of her body all over, looking like vines on trees. He found it ten times harder to swallow past the lump in his throat, practically choking on his own tears by the time he made it to her bed. Rose’s eyes were closed, her breathing ragged even with the help of the machine and Max could see what his sister meant when she said that their mother didn’t have much time left.
She looked like she could go at any second.
“Mom?” he croaked out, feeling like he was two years old again and about to climb into his parents’ bed during a thunderstorm. He reached for her hand, careful of the I.V. sticking out of it. “Mom, it’s me. It’s Max.” He squeezed and her eyes blinked open, cloudy blue falling on him—so different from the crystals he remembered from his youth. She took a deep breath and her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to speak—and failed. She looked to the right and Max saw a cup of water sitting there, with a straw sticking out. He reached for it and brought it to his mother’s lips.
She took a long sip, sighing as the water flowed down her throat, then coughed slightly as he pulled the cup away, breathing a little bit harder. Max put the cup away and reached, once again, for her hand, squeezing it gently, terrified that he might hurt her.
“M-Max,” she croaked, finally, and Max felt his eyes flood with even more tears, swallowing as they streamed down his cheeks.
“Yeah, Mom,” he said. “It’s me. It’s Max.”
She tilted her head to the side, squinting up at him with a wavering smile. “You l-l-look s-so much l-l-like your f-father.” Max choked on a sob at that, but forced a smile of his own.
“Oh, do I?” he asked. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
Her smile widened and she took another deep breath. “T-take care of y-y-your sister. Sh-she’s not as t-t-tough as she used t-to be.”
“She’s plenty tough,” Max retorted. “She had to put up with your stubborn ass, didn’t she?” He sniffled and she laughed.
“I-I-I love y-you, M-Max.” She swallowed thickly, her eyes closing. “My b-baby boy.” Her voice trailed off and her grip slacked as a loud, incessant beeping filled the room. Max backed away, his eyes widening as he looked at the heart monitor and saw it flashing.
“Help,” he murmured. “HELP!” He ran across the room, into the hallway. “HELP! SOMEBODY!”
A team of nurses and doctors ran into the room, pushing him out. Carol was back on the floor, sobbing into her hands as Max stared helplessly at the door. He could do nothing, could say nothing, and he felt numb just standing there. His hands shook and his heart hammered against his ribcage and he felt a rage starting to bubble in him, rising from the bit of his stomach, into his throat.
The roar he let out could tear eardrums and rival that of long-dead dinosaurs. The roar Max let out was full of hate and regret and pure fury. The roar he let out was the epitome of every emotion he’d kept pushed down for the past several years.
The roar he let out left him feeling empty as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, still staring at his mother’s hospital room door. He barely registered his sister’s hand on his shoulder.
*****
He and Carol were the only ones at their mother’s funeral, besides the priest.
Since her injury, Rose hadn’t been very social and taking care of her mother meant that Carol didn’t have much else, as well. All they had was each other and now all Carol had was Max.
He held her hand as they watched their mother’s casket get lowered into the ground. He didn’t stop holding her hand as they walked back to the car. He drove, letting Carol rest her head on his shoulder as tears continued to fall from her eyes.
His were dry.
When they arrived back at the house, Carol waited until they were inside before she spoke.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “I have some business to take care of.”
“Will you come back?” Carol asked, clenching her jaw.
“Maybe,” Max replied. “I can’t make any promises.”
Silence. Then…
“Don’t go.”
“I have to, Carol,” he huffed. “That bastard killed our father and now…do you want him to get away with killing our mother, too?” He turned to look at her, but Carol avoided his gaze. “That’s what I thought. I have to go.”
He started to make his way towards the steps, to his old bedroom.
“I gave a thousand dollars,” Carol said, stopping him in his tracks.
“What?” Max asked, turning back to her.
“A thousand dollars,” Carol repeated. “To get you out of that gang. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t nearly enough, in my opinion, to save your life, but I gave it up. That was tuition money that I had saved. That could have been two month’s rent or part of a down payment on a house or a car, but I didn’t even question any of that, because all I wanted to do was keep my little brother safe and sound and alive.” She swallowed thickly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Max. But you…you keep throwing your life away, like it doesn’t even matter. Like my sacrifice—and Dad’s and Mom’s—don’t even matter. You just barrel straight ahead without any consideration at all. Do you even care that once you die, I will be completely and utterly alone? And for what? Revenge? What good is that gonna do? Mom’s still dead, Dad’s still dead. And we’re safe. And we’re all each other has.” She took a deep breath. “So, please, just don’t do this. I am begging you, as your sister and somebody who wants to see you walk away from this with your life.” Her chin quivered. “Please, Max. Don’t leave me alone.”
Max stared at her for a long moment, standing in the middle of the stairs, his hand clenching the bannister. Then he sighed and turned away. “I’m sorry, Carol,” he said. “But I don’t have a choice.”
With that, he made his way to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, leaving the house in silence. He didn’t hear from Carol for the rest of the night. The next morning, when he was leaving, he tried to say goodbye, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. Instead, he found a note on the kitchen table: “Have a nice life,” was all it said.
Max sighed and wrote a note back, before turning and walking straight out the door.
His note had only three simple words: �
�I love you.”
Chapter Nine
Regina
Saturday night was as crowded as always and Regina was starting to run low on alcohol again as the clock reached one AM. The only difference between now and last week was that she hadn’t had enough time to run out and buy herself alcohol. She’d been too busy checking in a couple more drifters and making sure they had all they need, as well as brushing off their advances.
They were two good-looking men—young, strong, and real pretty in the face—but she just wasn’t in the mood.
“Hey, Regina,” Pauline greeted, sitting down at her usual place. “What’s got you looking so down, baby?”
Regina forced a smile. “Nothing,” she said. “Just tired. Long week, you know?” She reached behind her for the vodka and found it empty. “Out of vodka,” she informed the older woman. “Can I get you something else? Tequila, maybe?”
“Can you make it a sunrise?” Pauline asked, with a wide grin. “Because that’s when I’m getting home after spending my night with that big ol’ beefcake over there.” She motioned towards one of the drifters, who was watching her with a hungry look in his eyes. Regina snorted.
“You are too much sometimes,” she said, mixing the drink. “You know that?”
“It’s why your daddy loved me, it’s why your mama loved me, and it’s why you love me,” Pauline retorted. “So, come on. What’s up with you? You’re usually energized on a Saturday night.”
“Not after midnight,” Regina pointed out. “And not when I’m almost out of alcohol.” She sighed. “How does it go so damn fast?”
“That’s not what’s bothering you, though,” Pauline replied, knowingly, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
“Oh?” Regina laughed. “What’s bothering me then, oh wise Pauline?”
“The fact that what’s his face left,” Pauline scoffed, knowingly. “You miss your little boy toy?”
“No,” Regina huffed, even though she knew it was a bold-faced lie. “He just skipped town without paying his bill; I’m more than a little annoyed by it.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Pauline muttered. “he seemed like such a good guy.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the drifter as he began to wave her over. “Oh, looks like I’m being summoned. Sorry, babe. I hope you get the bastard. Bye!” She slipped off her stool and sauntered toward the drifter while Regina just rolled her eyes and turned back around, tossing the empty vodka bottle into the recycling bin. When she turned back around, there was a man in front of her, giving her a once-over.
“Can I get you something?” she asked him. “Anything but vodka; we’re out.”
“I’ll take a glass of whiskey,” the man—who was young and tan-skinned, with a fresh scar on his cheek—replied.
“Coming right up,” Regina said, reaching for the whiskey and a glass and pouring it for him. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks,” he said, giving her another once over, before turning and heading towards the pool table. Regina’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the design on the back of his coat.
Hell’s Sevens.
“Shit,” she hissed to herself, moving down the bar, toward Jimmy, who was halfway through his fifth whiskey of the night and looked about ready to leave. “Jimmy,” she hissed and he turned to her with drunken, cloudy eyes and a slow smile.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, then frowned. “What’s wrong? Somebody giving you trouble? Do you need me to rough them up a little?”
“What?” Regina asked. “No! No, I just…they’re here!”
“Who’s here?” Jimmy asked, looking all around the bar. His eyes landed on the group playing pool, most of them wearing leather jackets. “Oh shit,” he said, before reaching into his pocket and tugging out a few fifty dollar bills. He slapped them on the bar top. “Thanks for the drink, sweetie. I gotta go.”
“Jimmy!” Regina hissed. “You’re just gonna leave me alone here?”
“You’ll be fine,” he assured her. “They don’t have any issues with you. Me, on the other hand? That’s a whole other story. If they spot me and recognize me, then you’ll have a lot more trouble than you could possibly handle without your boyfriend around.”
“My…he is not my boyfriend!”
“Whatever he is to you,” Jimmy said. “He’s who they’re looking for, I can guarantee that. Be safe, love.”
With that, he was gone.
Regina sighed, watching the door close behind Jimmy, before turning back to stare at the men at the pool table. They weren’t causing a fuss or even looking back at her. A couple of them were bent over, checking angles, while the others were chuckling and talking among themselves. The only one that kept looking over his shoulder at her was the man she had just served. He was furrowing his brow at her and tilting his head. He looked a little familiar, to be honest, but she couldn’t exactly place him.
She continued to watch him over the next hour or so as he slowly sipped his whiskey and watched his friends play pool. The bar emptied slowly as she ran out of alcohol, but the man and his friends stayed. Finally, she gave them last call warning, waving off Pauline and the drifter as they headed upstairs, giggling and practically toppling over.
The man then approached the bar, his eyes planted firmly on her as he walked forward, holding out his whiskey glass and a twenty dollar bill. Regina made change for him and tried to ignore the way he stared at her throughout the transaction. When she handed back the five dollar bill, he finally opened his mouth.
“Where’s the guy?” he asked.
“What guy?” she retorted.
“The one I saw on Wednesday, taking out your trash,” he clarified. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” she said. “He was just…he was staying upstairs and he decided to help out. Why?”
“Nothing,” the man said. “I just had something to tell him, you know? About the raid this week. I thought he might appreciate the information. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I have no idea if he’ll be back,” she said, honestly. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” the guy said, handing her back the five. “Keep it,” he said. “If he does come back, just tell him…Thursday. Alright?”
“Whatever that means,” Regina chuckled. “Sure, I’ll tell him.”
“Thanks,” he said, before turning around and returning to his friends. After talking for a moment, the entire group headed out, leaving Brandy and Regina alone in the bar. When the place was finally silent, Regina leaned against the bar and let out a deep sigh.
“I hate Saturdays,” she groaned.
*****
It was six in the morning when she heard the banging at her door and Regina groaned, shoving her head further into her pillow, willing whoever it was to just go the hell away.
They didn’t.
Regina cursed up a storm the entire way to the door, grabbing her robe and tugging it on as she made her way through the apartment and looked through the peephole. Her legs nearly buckled beneath her when she saw who was on the other side of the door and she wasted no time in whipping it open.
Max Stormwell glared at her from the threshold. “You gave my room away!” he exclaimed.
“You’ve been gone for four days,” she retorted. “I didn’t know if you were even gonna bother coming back.”
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Regina stepped aside and he moved into the room, dropping his bags and jacket and keys to the floor. She closed the door and followed him through the apartment.
“Look, I needed to be making money for certain and these guys paid in cash, alright? And it’s only for one night so you’ll have your bed back in no time, ya big baby.” She untied her robe and let it fall to the floor as she led him towards her bedroom. Max rid himself of his shirt.
“Well, I’ll need somewhere to stay until then,” he said. “You got anything in mind for me?”
Regina grinned, slipping her panties down her legs and tugging the tank top she was wearing o
ver her head, tossing it behind her. She was bare now, and Max hastened to reach the same level of nakedness. “I can think of a few places,” she purred, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him down to press their lips together.
Max groaned into her mouth, picking her up and placing her down on the bed, pressing his body against hers. Their hands clashed as they raced to rid him of his boxers, tossing them to the side and removing the last barrier between their bodies. His gaze ran over her body for a hot moment, taking in everything he’d missed over the last few days.
“That seems…satisfactory,” he teased as he nipped at her lips and pressed himself against her. They were both so ready; several days of abstinence making them desperate for one another. Regina moaned, raising her legs to wrap around his waist, pulling him more insistently against her, encouraging him to move.
“Does it?” she teased back, her words ending on a gasp as he entered her, making her cry out. “Shit,” she murmured, biting his shoulder. It was like coming home, having him inside her; it felt like the sweetest relief.
“Oh yeah,” Max grunted as he moved within her. “Totally.” He pressed another kiss to her lips as he began to pick up the pace, causing both of them to moan and groan and gasp and, for a moment, it was as if he’d never left.
At the back of her mind, Regina had the inkling that she was supposed to tell him something as soon as he returned, but she couldn’t remember what it was just that moment. Or the moment after, when Max’s motions and attention caused her to fall over the edge, his name on her lips and her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he emptied himself inside of her.
Her mind went blank.
*****
Max
Regina’s bed was twice as soft as the bed in the bar and it didn’t hurt that the woman herself was wrapped in his arms as sunlight filtered in through the windows. Regina had a soft smile that stretched her lips and she purred as she rubbed herself against him in her sleep, humming in pleasure.
