Melancholy

by Bella Jewel

  “Okay, well,” I croak. “I’ll find Mack.”

  I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. I look up and his eyes are on mine, and there’s pain in their depths, like there’s so much he wants to say but can’t. The look is gone quickly, covered with that same anger.

  “Good.”

  “If you regret me, why not just say it?” I say, my voice shaky. “Don’t treat me like this.”

  “Never fuckin’ said that.”

  “You don’t need to!” I cry.

  He glares at me. “You’re . . . You’re not . . .”

  “Oh my God.” I laugh brokenly. “Don’t, please. I get it, all right? I’m not what you thought. I’m an innocent little girl, not good enough for the mighty Maddox.”

  His jaw tightens, as if he wants to reply . . . but he doesn’t.

  “You piece of shit!” I rasp.

  I turn and rush out, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t follow me.

  ~*~*~*~

  I don’t see Maddox for three long days. He doesn’t try to contact me or make any attempt to rectify the situation. To add to that, Mack is being cagey too. Like he knows something I don’t. I told him what happened, and he replied with, “Maddox is a prick,” before making a hasty retreat.

  Something is going down. It's been welling inside me, eating away until I can’t take it anymore.

  Maddox is not going to do what he did, and then hide from it because he regrets it. He’s going to face me, tell me it’s done, and then stay the fuck out of my life when I move on. He can’t barge in and interfere with my dating life, then turn me down like a spoiled child.

  It’s taken me days to find the right time to sneak past Mack. I’m going to Maddox’s house, whether he likes it or not. I’ve only been at the club when he isn’t there, and he’s made sure of that. He’s avoiding me, and he’s not going to do it any longer.

  I can’t crawl out my window, because they barred it after my last attempt. I can only sneak out when Mack is asleep. But he barely sleeps—the past two nights he’s spent fucking some random chicks, and I can’t get out because he’s been doing that on the frigging couch. Tonight, though, he came home alone. We shared a few empty words over dinner, and then I said I was tired and went to bed.

  Four hours later, he did the same.

  I wait for another half an hour before sneaking out of the house. It’s easy enough to do, with me disappearing through the back door. I know there are boys out the front. I’m dressed in jeans, a sweater and sneakers. It’s not cold out, but it’s certainly not warm either. Besides, I need the sneakers to get over the fence.

  It takes me half an hour to get out onto the street without making any noise. I catch a cab and order it to Maddox’s house. I breathe a sigh of relief when we’re on the road, feeling relieved that I made it out safely. What I didn’t consider in my plan, is that someone could be watching from somewhere down the street.

  I made a huge mistake.

  A massive, massive mistake.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  2008 – Santana

  A scream is wrenched from my throat as another tremor takes over. I need drugs. I need them now. I’ve clawed at my own skin to the point where my hands had to be restrained. Dried blood coats my arms and legs, and even parts of my face. Vomit has become my best friend, and I’m sweating enough to swim in it.

  Everything hurts. From the top of my head to my toes, everything inside my poor, broken body burns. It feels as if I’ve been lit on fire, doused, then lit once more. I can’t escape the pain; I can’t escape the desperation. I’m trapped, locked in my own personal hell. Nothing can take away my agony, and Maddox won’t let anyone near me.

  He’s been the only person I’ve seen for the past three days.

  And each time I lay my eyes on him, I want to rip his skin apart just to get out of here. I’ve tried, at least ten times. He’s too strong, though. He’s attempted to get me out to eat, drink and use the bathroom, but his attempts have been futile. I’ve pissed myself more times than I can count so now I lay here, drenched in my own urine, crying out for him.

  He won’t come.

  He knows as well as I do that if I don’t come down from this, I’ll die, and he’s making sure that doesn’t happen.

  ~*~*~*~

  2008 - Maddox

  Her body thrashes and her screams fill the room. I’ve never seen someone come down so hard before. She’s struggling, and her tiny body will go into shock soon if she doesn’t start coping. She’s begged me so many times to just give her something, and fuck, it’s been hard to say no.

  She’s suffering, and I can do nothing but watch her.

  “You need to tell her,” Mack says, coming up behind me.

  “Look at her, Mack. She’s fucked. Her life has been flushed down the toilet. If she knows what happened to her sister, she’ll fuckin’ die trying to find her. She can’t handle that.”

  “Ain’t your choice to make.”

  “Look. At. Her.”

  Mack turns his eyes to the girl strapped to the bed, her arms caked in dried blood, her hair a ratty mess, and her clothes soaked with her own urine. She can’t know what happened to her sister—she’ll set off into the world and be killed or captured before she even leaves the city. She’s got no chance.

  “She needs time, and right now I’ve got nothin’ to give her. I don’t know where her sister was sent, and until I do, her knowing is only going to do severe damage to her recovery.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I walk in and stop beside the bed. Santana looks up at me, her eyes desperate. “Please,” she croaks. “It hurts.”

  I lift the cloth sitting in the bowl of water beside the mattress and wring it out, then I wipe her face. “You’re goin’ to be just fine.”

  “Please!” she screams.

  Her entire body jerks as she tries to get out of her binds. After a few minutes, she slumps down with a ragged whimper.

  “Where’s my sister?”

  I open my mouth to answer her, but stop. She looks over to me, and she must see something on my face, something bad, because she starts to scream. “No, Pippi! No! No! No!”

  A lump lodges itself in my throat as she screams for her sibling.

  “She’s dead, isn’t she? No!” she wails. “No!”

  I can’t move. I can’t confirm or deny her thoughts, I just stand there, fucking mute, with nothing to say. She gasps for air and then blacks out. I stare at her, tilting my head to the side as I reach down and check her pulse. It's there, and it’s pounding.

  God, the poor, poor girl.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  2014 – Santana

  The first gunshot that’s fired hits the car tires, sending the driver into a panic. He speaks very little English and starts rambling in a language I don’t understand, but thankfully he doesn’t stop when I scream. I throw myself onto the floor, jerking my phone out of my jeans. God, I’m such an idiot.

  I try Maddox’s number. No answer.

  Shit.

  Another shot rings out, causing the car to swerve and slam into an oncoming truck. A loud crunch and a jerk sends my phone soaring out of my hand. A scream rips from my throat as half of the car is crushed in. The blaring sounds of horns and screaming fill the small space. I have to get out of here; they’re going to kill me if I don’t.

  I lift my head just enough to see we’re near some alleys. If I get out and run . . . I don’t think, I just do. I unbuckle my seatbelt and throw the door open, hitting the pavement with a thump. Pain rips up my body as I roll towards the sidewalk. Another shot rings out, missing me through the chaos. I have seconds to get out of sight.

  Skin is torn off my legs as I shove my body up and run towards the alley. I disappear down the dark space, crying out as I trip and stumble over unknown objects. I run as hard and as fast as I can, my sneakers pounding, my body aching, and my heart racing.

  Cars scre
ech at the end of the alley, and I hear shouted voices. God, they’re so close. I run harder, ducking out onto the next street and running towards the closest thing I can. Our local store. It’s huge, kind of like Wal-Mart, so I know I can hide well enough in, near, or around it. I decide to go with around it, being that the most obvious choice would be for me to go inside.

  I duck around the back, only giving a quick glance behind me. I can’t see anyone, but I can still hear shouted voices. They’ll appear only seconds after me, of that I don’t doubt. I rush through the parking lot and around the back of the building. I see a heap of old bins, but decide to go with the thick bushes surrounding the building.

  I shove myself into one, crying in pain as the branches damage my skin even further. My knees and hands are burning in ways I’ve never felt them burn before. I push right to the back of the bushes and press myself against the wall, ducking as low as I can. Then I pray, I pray because I know if these men get hold of me, I’m dead.

  Voices fill my silent space only two or three minutes later. I press my hands over my mouth to steady out my breathing in an attempt to quieten it down as I’m panting from my run. I close my eyes and stay as still as I can, not wanting to rustle one leaf. The sound of boots crunching over the pavement gets closer and closer, until I can clearly hear voices.

  “She go inside?” one of them barks.

  “I think she did, man,” another says.

  A snort. “Bet she’s in the fuckin’ bins.”

  Breathe. In and out. Don’t make a sound. Please don’t let them find me, oh God, please . . . don’t let them find me.

  “She ain’t in the bins. I’m sure she went inside. If she was fuckin’ smart she would have, probably callin’ the cops. We need to get outta here.”

  “Kent will be fuckin’ pissed if we don’t come back with her.”

  “She’s fuckin’ gone; the bitch can run fast. If the cops show up, we’re fucked. We’re meant to kill her, not get ourselves locked up.”

  “Fine, but you’re fuckin’ breakin’ the news that the bitch missed our bullets once again.”

  “Yeah, fuckin’ yeah.”

  My bottom lip trembles in relief as they disappear. God, they sound so like the Jokers’ in the way they speak and act, it’s scary. To others, is that how Maddox and the guys look?

  I sit in the bushes for an hour, my body seizing, my heart aching with fear. I stand slowly, waiting, just waiting for them to pop out with their guns trained on me. They’re not there, though. I manage to get out of the bushes with no harm. I peer around the side of the building, and there aren’t a lot of cars left, being the hour of night it is.

  I decide to stick to the back road running behind the store, walking down the dark stretch until I find a main drag far enough away that I feel safe. My legs and hands are aching, and when I pass streetlights, I see the bloody mess I’ve made of them. When I reach a line of cabs, I rush over quickly and jump into one, waiting with fear to see if bullets ring out.

  They don’t.

  I give the driver Maddox’s address, and he doesn’t even notice me as he drives out. Thank God, he might have thrown me out, or worse, called the cops. I sit in silence the entire way and when the driver pulls up, I pull a twenty from my jeans pockets, grateful I always keep one in my pants. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.

  The driver still doesn’t glance at me as he snatches the money and I get out. He drives off and I rush towards Maddox’s house, stopping when I see Tyke and Austin standing watch. Their eyes fall on me, and Tyke wheels himself closer, his face twisted with rage. “What the fuck, Sant . . .”

  His voice trails off when I step into the light.

  “Motherfucker, MADDOX!”

  Austin rushes inside the house as I finally let the tears fall. All I wanted to do was see Maddox, I didn’t . . . God, I didn’t realize it was this bad. Tyke reaches out, putting an arm around my hips as he forces me closer to the house, his eyes darting about with concern.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  Maddox’s voice comes out like an icy whip, lashing against my skin and making my tears flow harder. I turn towards him, and his eyes widen with shock and pure rage.

  “I . . .”

  “Where’s Mack?” he barks, looking around. “What happened?”

  “I . . .”

  “Well?” he roars.

  “I snuck out!” I cry. “They . . . they shot at me . . .”

  “Get inside,” he bellows, so loudly I flinch. “Fuckin’ now.”

  Oh God. I rush past him and into the house. My eyes blur with angry tears as I run towards the bathroom.

  “Stop.”

  His voice, like a damned acid-filled bullet, has me stopping and turning halfway up the stairs.

  “Get. Down. Here. Now.”

  God, he’s so angry. With shaky legs, I turn and walk down the stairs, trying hard to even out my breathing. My tears have stopped, and I’m filled with a mix of anger and fear.

  “Get on the fuckin’ couch!”

  I do as he asks, sitting down on the couch. I stare down at my knees and a pained wince comes out as I clearly see the damage done. This takes gravel rash to a whole new level. I’ve got chunks of blood and road all over my knees. My hands are no better.

  Maddox says nothing as he pulls out his phone.

  “Mack!” he barks. “Missin’ something?”

  “This isn’t his fault!” I cry, trying to stand. His hand goes to my shoulder and shoves me back down.

  “You fuckin’ let her out into the night to get fuckin’ shot at.”

  Mack is roaring something on the other end of the phone. I flinch, hating that this ended so badly. I didn’t think about Mack when I found the determination to come and see Maddox. I didn’t think about how it would affect him.

  “Fuck you, bro,” Maddox hisses.

  Mack says something that has Maddox’s face scrunching in pure rage.

  “You fuckin’ watch your fuckin’ . . .”

  Obviously Mack hangs up, because Maddox hurls the phone across the room and then spins to me.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think I’m fuckin’ joking when I fuckin’ say that you’re in fuckin’ danger?”

  His voice has me flinching with fear. God, I’ve never seen him so angry.

  “You selfish, spoiled little fuckin’ brat!”

  Another flinch.

  “Austin!” he roars.

  The young prospect rushes in. “Yeah?”

  “Clean her the fuck up. I can’t look at her.”

  Then he turns and charges down into the basement where I know he’s got a boxing bag that he takes his anger out on. I turn to Austin, my mouth opening but quickly closing again. What is there to say? I’m a God damned fool and I deserve this.

  ~*~*~*~

  Austin cleans me up, and then goes and waits outside. I sit on the couch, staring at the basement door. I’ve heard Maddox’s angry thump, thump, thumps as he pounds into his boxing bag. I know I need to go down there, but what do I say? Maybe the truth . . . Yeah, that would be a good plan.

  I shove to my feet, groaning in pain at the stiff, achy feeling that radiates through my knees and hands. I hesitantly make my way down to the basement. The noise gets louder and louder as I edge closer. I see the bag flying around before I see Maddox, but when I do lay my eyes on him, I gasp.

  God, he’s angry.

  His huge body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He’s taken his shirt off, and is only wearing his jeans. His fists are bloody and broken, and his face is a twisted mass of rage. He looks so scarily stunning. He notices me before I can open my mouth, his blue eyes cutting through me like razor blades.

  “I fucked up.”

  Thump, thump, thump.

  “I’m sorry, Maddox. I just . . . I wanted to see you.”

  Thump, thump, thump.

  “I shouldn’t have done it, I deserved everything I got.”

  Thump, thump, thump.

 
“For fuck’s sake!” I scream, losing my shit. He pauses for a minute, but resumes his thumping. I resume my yelling. “You pissed and moaned about me dating Alec, you made it clear you didn’t like it, you put your . . . body all over mine, and we have a big-ass moment, and then you switched off. You just fucking switched off. You don’t get the right to do that, you giant . . . fuckhead.”

  He stops hitting and stares at me, his face expressionless.

  “You done?”

  “No!” I snap. “I’m not done. I came out tonight because you haven’t spoken to me for three days. I’m tired of this fucking game we continue to play. You either want me, or you don’t. Make up your fucking mind. If you decide you don’t, then stay the fuck out of my business.”

  He’s in front of me in a flash, causing me to take two quick steps back. His eyes flash with rage as he glares down at me.

  “You could have gotten yourself killed, because you don’t fuckin’ listen.”

  “I know that,” I say, keeping my voice strong.

  We stare at each other for long, long moments, saying nothing, but feeling everything.

  “You touched me,” I say, my voice low and broken. “You made me feel incredible after he . . .” My voice wavers, “hurt me. And now you’re treating me like I don’t matter.”

  His face softens, but it’s still so hard. He says nothing, but I can see the internal battle going on inside him. For whatever reason he’s holding back, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of dancing around this. I take a step forward and reach up, placing my hand on his damp, hard chest. He flinches, and his eyes close.

  “Maddox,” I breathe. “Stop hiding from me. You want this as much as I do. I can feel it.”

  His lips thin out, his jaw flexes, and his eyes remain closed. I step even closer, pressing my lips to his skin. I let my tongue slide out, tasting the salt. I let out a little, satisfied moan and step even closer until our bodies are molded together. He doesn’t move; he’s stiff as a damned brick wall.

  I don’t back down, though.

  I press my open mouth against his chest, and blow hot puffs of air against his skin. He shudders, but still, his hands aren’t on me. He’s not pushing me away though, so I’m not going to stop. I gently lower my body down his, sliding my mouth over his abs which are super hard from his work out.