Max's POV

I watched as Nikolas made a couple of phone calls, already planning something with meticulous intent. The air was thick with tension, my body unable to find stillness as I paced around the room.

Anxiousness clung to me like a second skin, my thoughts incessantly drifting back to Valerie—her bruised face, her pain, the look of betrayal in her eyes.

Nikolas's gaze fell on me, the phone pressed to his ear, listening intently to the person on the other end. But his whole attention was mainly on me, scrutinizing the chaotic mess surging through me, detecting every little thing—like the way my fingers twitched at my side, the way my breaths came in uneven bursts, my chest rising and falling too quickly, like I was on the verge of exploding.

That look in his eyes almost made me believe that he could see right through me, watching as my thoughts spun out of control, each one more painful than the last.

"Okay, keep looking into that," He said through the phone, "I will take care of the rest," He added before he ended his call and shoved the phone away.

"So, what will we do now?" I asked, walking closer to his side, ready for everything and anything.

He stayed silent for a second too long, his jaw tight as he took into my state, "Look, Max, why don't you go back home, call it a night," He said, trying to calm me down somehow, "And we'll look at this whole mess together tomorrow," He added and I was already shaking my head, refusing.

"Look, you are not thinking clearly now—" He started to say.

"Of course, I am not!" I shot out, interrupting him, "How could I think clearly," the words scratched at my strained throat, "She got hurt because of a decision I made," I added, bewildered at myself to the point of utter madness, "She is in pain now, because of me," I grated out, "God, I can't stop thinking about it, I can't...can't wrap my head around it. Who...who does this," I shot out, enraged, because it didn't make sense, not one bit.

Feeling the walls close in on me, I stumbled backward, suffocated, and trapped in my own madness, "There is this...this feeling inside of me, this urge, I don't understand it, I don't," I heaved out a heavy breath from my burning lungs, "I don't get it, but it's ripping my chest apart and it's messing with my head, I don't know how to explain it, I don't know...it's too messy, it's dark, it's..." I shook my head violently, bringing my hands up to press the heels of my palms against my temples, trying to keep my head from splintering, "I don't understand it..."

Nikolas stood up, his movements calm but deliberate. He reached for my arm, his hand wrapping firmly around my wrist, gently urging my hands down. I looked back at him, shaking my head in defeat, the madness unraveling inside me, the urge to release it all becoming unbearable.

Fuck but I wanted to bellow into the sky, to scream and shout, to break down everything around me.

"Max, look, I get it," he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes searching mine, reaching for that dark, twisted thing lurking within me, trying to pull it out.

"Come with me," he urged, his hand leaving mine as he turned around, confident that I would follow.

I followed without hesitation, desperate for any distraction, my breaths coming in harsh, ragged bursts. The hallway stretched out endlessly, each step echoing loudly in the silence of the night. Nikolas glanced back at me, his eyes steady and resolute, a stark contrast to the chaos raging within me. He was in utter control—so calm, so steady—I partially envied him at the moment.

We reached the training area, the one I've been in a few times before, back when he used to allow me to drop by here. My confusion doubled, my eyes flickering around the area and before I could ask or attempt to understand, I watched as he shrugged off his jacket, laying it over a nearby chair before he started to roll up his sleeves.

"It feels too much, doesn't it?" He said suddenly, a bit out of the blue, his eyes focused on his sleeves as he adjusted them, "It feels...like a volcano ready to erupt inside of you and ruin everything around you," he continued, almost like he was translating the foreign language in my head, "Every nerve in your body on edge, pulsing too loudly."

He finally looked up, his gaze meeting mine, still so composed but there was a distinctive softness in them, almost like he understood me too well, "It feels as if the madness is clawing at the edges of your sanity, threatening to consume you entirely."

My eyebrows pulled closer and I nodded, unable to find my voice. He gestured for me to take off my jacket as well. I did the same and stayed only in my white T-shirt. I watched as he climbed into the fighting ring, gesturing for me to follow. I laid my jacket aside and got in right after him, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

Nikolas picked up the protective wraps for our fists and approached me. He extended his hand, asking for mine. Hesitantly, I brought them up and closer to him, "You can feel it burn at your chest, it travels into your veins, sometimes deep into your bones before it claws all the way to your head. It becomes all you can see, all you can feel," His movements were precise, methodical as he began wrapping my hands, his touch firm but gentle, his accurate words silencing a few of the voices in my head.

"And you feel the need to let it out, one way or another," He said, finishing the wrap on my hands with a protective care that belied the violence about to unfold. He stepped back, eyes flickering up to meet mine, "I feel the same sometimes," He said, his voice dripping lower, "This is what I usually do to let it out," He added, gesturing around, taking a couple of steps away from me and prepping himself, "If I don't, I'd end up indirectly hurting those around me and I don't want that."

Silently, I stared back at him and I felt something so very weird, like I understood him but also didn't. It was another troubled thought I decided to push away instantly.

"So, now, I want you to fight me, but not like all those times before," He instructed and I took my position, flexing my fists in anxiousness, "This anger inside of you, this urge, you need to control it, to focus on it and use it as a way to move forward and attack," He added, shaking his head, "You can't let it control you. If you do, it will make you mess up, it will give your opponent an advantage over you."

I nodded, trying to absorb his words. "You need to clear your head," he instructed, "Just focus on that anger, feel it in your chest, and let it creep into your arms and fists. Then come at me," he said, his voice hardening with the last sentence.

I tried to clear the messiness in my head, to silence all the voices. I tried to take control. I focused on the anger, feeling it build and surge, and I marched forward.

I swung my first punch, aiming precisely, but Nikolas dodged it almost too effortlessly like every other fucking time. My jaw tightened, I went for another punch, but he blocked it, his grip strong as he restrained my arm. Frustration boiled over, and I groaned, trying to yank my arm free before I stumbled away from him.

Rage boiled. Fury spread. The failure fueled my anger, making it flare hotter.

"You're still letting your anger control you," He pointed out, his eyes hard as they focused on mine, willing me to understand. I planted my feet on the ring's canvas, pressing hard, determined to do as he said. I rushed at him again, aiming another punch, but he deflected it smoothly, moving out of my way and restricting my fists with maddening ease.

I groaned loudly, wavering on the edge. "Stay in control, Max," He grated out, trying to ground me and I pushed at him, trying to aim one punch after the other, a bit reckless this time, my eyes saw nothing but utter madness.

Thoughts of Valerie invaded my head and messed me up some more.

"Focus!" He shot out, dodging another one of my punches, his fingers wrapping over my fists and he pushed me away, overpowering me, fighting me for real this time, pushing me to my limit.

I didn't give up, I didn't stop. Each one of my attacks was more desperate and wild than the last, "Try to understand what I am doing, focus on my movements," he said as he deflected and dodged them all, "Read my body language, try to outsmart me—"

I was panting, the oxygen almost non-existent in my lungs, "Try and focus Max," He shot out again, and I went for another punch. This time, I watched how he dodged it, how his eyes followed my dominant fist, how he always deflected before moving to the left, and how he used his right hand first before restraining me with the other.

"You need to..." I studied him more. He used one arm to shield himself while the other to dodge and fight me back, he swapped them continuously and so smoothly, like he had been fighting for all of his life and I smiled, figuring it all out, "....take me off guard—" He tried to continue his sentence just as I switched my pattern and aimed for his jaw. This time, it connected. The impact reverberated through my arm, a jolt of raw adrenaline mingled with the pain of exertion.

My eyes widened and I froze when his head whipped to the other side. The impact of my punch instantly carved a small cut at the corner of his mouth and blood started to gather there. Nikolas turned his head again, his eyes, as shocked as mine, fell into my face, and for a second, he looked startled, like he didn't understand what just happened.

His jaw ticked.

I gulped down.

Should I apologize? But no, he was the one who asked me to punch him after all...

"That's...good," He commented, startled still and he cleared his throat before he carelessly wiped at the side of his mouth, the fresh crimson red seeping into his white dress shirt's sleeves. Damn it.

"I kept coming at you with the same movement, and with the same dominant fist," I explained, showing him my right hand, "You used your right hand to deflect it and the other one to stop my other hand. My fighting pattern gave you a similar defensive pattern and once I figured it out, I switched, you didn't expect me to and that took you off guard," I explained.

He watched me with an unexplainable look before he nodded his head, "Yeah," he said, "That's smart."

The muscles of his jaw worked and he edged backward, "Now, let's try again, this time I will attack and I need you to defend yourself," He said and I nodded my head before my eyebrows pulled closer, "You're not trying to take back your revenge this way, are you," I asked, hesitant.

My comment had his lips twitching, his strong stance almost wavering and he shook his head, "I'd never hurt you, Max," He said it, almost like it was a prayer, a belief etched deep into his being. He cleared his throat again and his expression switched back to neutral, "Come on, are you ready?"

I nodded again. My mind felt clearer now, my vision sharper. I watched him prep himself, ready to attack. I took note of every movement—the flex of his right arm, the positioning of his left, the set of his legs and shoulders. I sensed he might switch his usual attack pattern, trying to outsmart me this time.

As he charged, I moved just as fast, dodging his attack with more precision. My new position gave me the advantage, and I quickly aimed a punch that landed squarely on his shoulder, pushing him back and away from me.

He straightened himself rather fast, and his eyes widened as they fell on me, taken aback, "Okay, what the hell?" He grumbled, dissatisfied.

A smile crept onto my lips, a sense of accomplishment swelling within me, "I'm a fast learner," I said with a casual shrug.

His eyebrow arched, and he sighed, grumbling lowly, "Okay, I guess enough of this for one day."

My smile widened as he backed away and stepped out of the ring. I tore off my hand wraps, letting them fall to the ground. Following him, I flexed and unflexed my fists, wincing slightly as pain surged through my nerves with every twitch. The ache was merely a reminder of the progress I managed to make for once.

He took a cloth and tapped it over the corner of his mouth, trying to get rid of the blood. I gestured toward it, "Sorry," I mumbled lowly and he gave me an incredulous look, shaking his head, "I've had worse," He said, his eyebrow raising, "Let's just hope it doesn't leave a scar, my wife rather hates it when I come back home bruised," he added with a mix of mockery and warmness.

"How did you learn to fight like that?" I couldn't help but ask, still taken aback by his stamina at this age. He moved with so much ease, ever so smoothly, not just today but also last night. He overpowered the fucker in mere seconds only, he knocked him down before he could suck into his next breath. I want to be able to do that.

Nikolas's eyes scrutinized mine, trying to see behind my question, "I had to," He answered, keeping it vague.

"How so?"

He shrugged, "I didn't have much of a choice," He answered, "It was either eat or get eaten in my world," He explained, amplifying my curiosity.

I nodded my head, "And how can I reach your level?" I asked.

His eyebrow raised and he dropped the cloth down, discarding it away, "I don't want you to reach my level," He said strictly, picking up his jacket and ready to leave. I did the same and followed him, eager to hear more, "I didn't have anyone protecting my back, so I had to be that person," He added, "On the other hand, you don't need to, you have a whole army behind you."

"Just learn how to punch right, and leave the rest to me," He added, his voice turning lighter.

I shrugged, "I am getting better, I suppose."

His eyes flickered to my hands, "Hurts like a bitch?" He asked and I nodded, wincing, "You have no idea," I grumbled.

"It means you need to get even better," He said and I nodded, ready for that.

"Does that mean you'll allow me to come here?" I asked, hopeful.

He nodded his head, "Only when I am here, and it will all be under my supervision and my rules," He added, his strict tone leaving me no space to argue.

I nodded my head, "Okay, deal," I said.

He looked slightly taken aback by my quick acceptance but quickly brushed it off as he settled behind his desk. A short moment of silence enveloped us, his eyes reading something over his phone's screen, "I had one of my men look after her before," he said, and I sat on the opposite seat, hanging onto his every word as our conversation shifted back to the main topic, "But he'd leave when she got home," Nikolas's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering from his phone to me, "I used to think she was safe in her house, but apparently not."

"So, from this moment on, he will be her shadow, he'll never leave her side again," He added, easing my multiplying worry, "So, I don't want you to worry about her safety, he would never let anything bad happen to her again."

I nodded, but the burn in my chest refused to subside, a relentless flame that seemed to have no intention of dying out.

"As for David, I will be going for another method this time around—"

"I want him dead," I interrupted, my voice hardening like steel.

Nikolas nodded, "I get that." He leaned over his desk, resting his arms on it. "But killing him now would only be reckless, and as I told you before, we don't do reckless," he added. My jaw ticked in frustration; I didn't want to wait, I wanted him dead today before tomorrow.

"You can't let your anger control your actions, Max. It will only end up messing things up."

"I got angry yesterday, because he dared to threaten you, and what did I do?" He said, his eyebrow raised, "I messed up," He took the credit, although it was all on me, I am the one who asked him for it, so I couldn't exactly blame him, "So, this time I will approach it differently, I won't underestimate him or his family and in the end, he will die, I promise you that, just let me take care of the little details first, okay?"

I knew his family was too powerful, and we didn't need another enemy on our hands with everything that had unraveled over the past year. He was right, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

Forcing myself to comply, I nodded. "Okay."

Satisfied with my acceptance, he edged back a fraction, his hand moving to one of the drawers, he opened it up and pulled an item, before he rested it over the table and moved it closer to my side.

My confused gaze flickered from the gun and up to him. "Meanwhile, I want you to keep this with you, in case something happens and I am not there," His throat bobbed slightly and his fingers tightened over the edge of the desk, a wave of anxiousness wrapped over his being, "I will need you to use it if needed, to defend yourself," He added, "You getting hurt again isn't acceptable at all," He added, like he was ready to challenge fate and death and everyone to keep me unharmed.

I reached for the gun, wrapping my fingers around the cold metal, pulling its weight into my lap. "Yeah, can't afford to lose my kidney again," I said, "You only have one left; you need to protect it at all costs," I added, my tone turning playful in an attempt to lighten the sore mood.

Nikolas raised an eyebrow at my comment before the corner of his lips lifted into a small smile. His eyes softened, as if he was finding some comfort in this moment, just us sitting, talking, and planning, finding a common ground to stand on.

"I will teach you how to aim and fire, and how to properly use it," He added in assurance as I tucked it into the back of my pants, feeling the cold metal press into my skin.

"But I will need one more thing from you," He said and I nodded my head, urging him to carry on.

"You need to tell Alex about all of this," he said firmly, shattering my world once more.

For some reason, I couldn't. I just couldn't. But I nodded my head anyway, hiding the turmoil inside.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Two Weeks Later...

Today was the first day of the spring semester.

Two agonizing weeks had passed since Valerie was attacked in her home, and in that time, I hadn't seen her once. Each day without her felt like an eternity, a relentless ache gnawing at my insides. I tried to respect her request for space, but the longing grew more unbearable with every passing moment.

I've only taken her updates through Aubrey ever since.

God, how I missed her.

Like crazy.

A depraved addict in need of his drug before he'd collapse.

Her face, with its intricate blend of softness and defiance. Her lips, the mere memory of their touch ignited a fire within me. Her scent, so uniquely hers, lingered in my senses. Those eyes—those challenging, expressive eyes—that could strip away my defenses with a single glance. I even missed our relentless arguments, the way she would pretend indifference every time I attempted to touch and kiss her.

"Max," Cole's voice cut through my reverie, elbowing me, with a subtle nudge to reality. I glanced up, twirling a pen absently in my hand, my gaze flickering to the classroom's entrance and instantly, I froze.

My eyes found Valerie, finally, as she walked inside, clutching her notebooks to her chest, ginger hair cascading around her face in a curtain that almost hid the fading bruises. My breath caught, my heart somersaulting in my chest, falling to the ground, ready to crawl all the way, desperate to reach out to her.

Silent and reactionless, she moved further into the room, her eyes scanning for a seat. When our gazes locked, she froze too and time seemed to stand still. I couldn't tear my eyes away, unwilling to break the connection that bridged the distance between us. All I wanted was to run to her, to hold her close and erase the pain etched on her face.

Fuck, could I ever grow accustomed to this distance between us?

We held each other's gaze for a heartbeat too long. But before emotions could overwhelm us both, she looked away, seeking refuge in the farthest corner of the room.

As the professor began the lecture, I tried to focus, but my attention kept drifting back to her. Her head bowed over her notebook, scribbling aimlessly, she seemed lost in a world I couldn't penetrate; one she purposely kept me out of.

When the class finally ended, I was on my feet in an instant, ready to move and reach for her, ask her how she'd been, talk to her, and just hear the sound of her voice. I ached for her in ways that weren't normal anymore. But she was quicker, gathering her things fast and disappearing into the throng of students.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

One Week Later...

Another week passed and Valerie was nowhere to be spotted on campus. I could never find her.

She was like this ghost haunting the edges of my existence.

So, I patiently waited with bated breath for our shared lecture, the one thread that tethered us together. My eyes remained fixed on the entrance, scanning every face that passed through, hoping against hope that she would appear. Minutes stretched into eternity as I held onto the fragile hope of seeing her once more.

The professor arrived, the lecture commenced, and still, she did not come. Anxiety coiled in my gut, a sinking realization settling in. When the lesson was over, I sought the teacher's assistant, scouring the attendance sheet with anxious hands, only to confirm what I feared most—Valerie had dropped the course.

Yeah, she really never wants to see me again...

She is practically running away from me, never wanting us to cross paths ever again.

Was that how it was going to be from now on?

"Wanna grab coffee?" Cole's voice pierced through my ceaseless trance. I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag and nodded, clinging to the faint hope that I might see her there, wearing that green apron, making drinks, and handing out fake smiles to strangers.

Cole pushed the glass door open, the little bells at the top ringing loudly enough to capture her attention. And there she was, behind the counter, as I had imagined, in her green hat and apron, her fingers wrapped around a cup, extending it to a customer.

Her eyes flickered to us, mainly landing on me.

Her fake smile wavered, and she moved away instantly, she whispered something to Aubrey before she pushed open the back door and disappeared inside.

I hurried to the counter, my eyes locking onto a startled Aubrey. "Hey pretty thing—" Cole began, a smirk creeping onto his face, but I nudged him aside, my desperate gaze pleading with her. "Let me go in," I begged, needing to talk to her. Even if she'd scream and insult me, I just need her close. I've been deteriorating over the past weeks.

Aubrey's brows knitted together, and she shook her head. "You know I can't, Max," she said softly, wanting to help but respecting Valerie's need for distance.

Anger flared inside me, and I slammed my hand on the counter, frustration boiling over. My jaw tightened as I faced her again. "How is she?" I asked, my throat burning with the words. "Has she gotten better?"

Aubrey sighed and nodded. "She is...okay," she mumbled. "But she's less reactive, less energized, always silent, so stoic."

She ran a hand over her face, genuine worry etched in her expression. "She barely speaks a full sentence anymore, she's throwing herself into work and school. It's almost..." Her eyes drifted to Cole, who was listening intently to us, ever so confused, before meeting mine again. "It's almost like when she first got here."

Just like after the incident, and after her father's death. This recent event had thrust her back into that dark place.

Cole's eyebrows pulled closer, "Can someone tell me why you two broke up?" He asked, his eyebrow arching when he looked at me, "She seems to know why," He added, a bit bitter and betrayed, "Why can't I know, tell me, maybe I can help."

I shook my head, dismissing him, and he rolled his eyes. He cursed under his breath before turning his attention back to Aubrey. His expression softened, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "So, since there's no hope for these two, why don't you and I rekindle our romance?" he asked flirtatiously, leaning over the counter.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, "We don't have a romance."

His smirk widened, "In my fantasies, we have much more than romance, believe me."

She smiled, sweetly but fake. "And that's what they'll always be, sweet Cole," she tapped his arm in fake affection, "fantasies."

She retreated her hand back and went to carry on with the customer's orders. Cole's eyes flickered from his arm and up to me, his smile widening, "She willingly touched me, all on her own, you saw that, right?" He asked, ever so excited, "Man, I am so gonna win her over one day."

He glanced her way and threw her a wink before following me outside. Each step I took was heavy with frustration and anxiety, my hope of restoring what Valerie and I had slipping further away as days passed us by.

I pushed through the door, my steps agitated, nerves frayed. I wanted to head to the bunker, to release this pent up fury out but with Nikolas out of town today, I couldn't. I was trying to stay on his good side, follow his rules, and avoid getting cast out again.

"Max, hey, wait," Cole called out, catching up with me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

I stopped and turned, "What?"

His wary eyes scanned my face, and he withdrew his hand. "Look, I'm inviting the guys over tonight," he said, carefully measuring each word, afraid I might explode. "My parents are out of town. Why don't you come too? We'll just hang out, play games, and have a drink," he suggested. "You don't have to drink, of course. Just come. It'll help you distract yourself."

"And believe me, you look like you need it," he added, his tone serious and tinged with worry as he assessed my agitated state.

I rushed a hand over my face, trying to do what Nikolas said and take control of my anger before I go lashing out at the people close to me who had no fault. I sucked into a deep breath and nodded my head, "Yeah, okay," I said, my voice calmer now as I attempted to clear out my head, "Why not, let's go."

Cole's lips spread into a wide grin, "Awesome," He said, throwing his arm around my shoulder as he pulled me toward the parking lot, "Now, will you tell me why you and Valerie broke up?"

I stayed silent for a short moment before I broke it with the truth, "I lied to her about something," I said.

"About what?"

"I can't say," I added.

His eyebrows pulled closer, and I shook my head, "It's not my secret to share, Cole," I explained.

He nodded in understatement, "Got it," He said, not willing to push me further.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" He suggested.

I shook my head and he nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line, "Yeah, right, now that you two are broken up, she might fall for my charm, we can't have that," He added with a dramatic sigh.

I turned my head and shot him an unfazed glare. He only smiled in return. It felt like I've been keeping a whole a lot hidden from him, but I have to somehow. I can't afford to bring him into my mess.

We both got into our cars after and headed out of the campus. We passed by the market first, bought some drinks and snacks before going to his house. The guys came afterwards, and we hung out. I tried to keep myself distracted, to indulge into every conversation, to smile and laugh but I couldn't. My mind kept drifting to her only. It was maddening. I've never felt anything similar before. What do they call this disease?

Feeling utterly hopeless and helpless, I did the only thing I thought might help me forget, or at least numb this damned feeling. I reached for the untouched alcohol on the table, my fingers wrapping around the glass as I brought it to my lips and gulped it down.

The liquid traveled down my throat, burning and scorching me, a taste I've grown rather unaccustomed to. I haven't taken one sip of alcohol since my accident and surgery. I was trying to be careful with my health. But who the fuck cares anymore...

I filled the glass again and took my second shot, wishing the toxins to wrap over my brain cells and kick her out of it. I still felt nothing and went for my third drink, the chattering sounds around me transferred into a distant background as I sank deep into my despair.

I was about to drink down my fourth when fingers curled over my wrist, stopping me. My eyes flickered up, falling on Cole as he warily stared back at me, lines etched between his brows, "It's enough, don't you think so?" He said.

My lips lifted up into a small smile, "When did you become the fun police?" I mumbled before I pulled my hand out of his grip and gulped the whole thing down.

I filled my fifth glass, but Cole snatched the bottle away, placing it out of my reach. "Since I don't want you to pass out in my house again," he grated out, glaring as I drained the liquid down my throat.

I set the empty glass on the table and sank into the cushion, feeling the alcohol finally loosen my tensed muscles. My brain started to feel foggy, and the rage in my chest began to subside. This, finally, felt nice.

I threw my head back, resting it against the cushion, and closed my eyes, trying to delve deeper into this sensation. My shoulders relaxed, and for a moment, I felt like I could finally rest, finally sleep after all those stressful nights. But then, out of fucking nowhere, her image broke through, piercing the fog like a persistent echo of my torment.

I tried to push her away, to drown her out with the numbing haze of the alcohol, but she clung to me, a relentless ghost. Every detail of her presence was etched into my being—her laugh, her anger, her soft whispers, how she felt wrapped up in my arms. It was maddening.

She was there. She was everywhere.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to push back the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on the fog, the fleeting numbness, but she was there, always there, slipping through the cracks of my resolve.

I pried my eyes open and reached for another bottle, my hands unsteady but determined. I filled my glass and drank, the liquid scorching my throat, over and over until I lost count.

"Goddammit, Max," Cole's annoyed, worried voice broke through the haze. He snatched the bottle away, but he was too late. I was already deep down the rabbit hole, the alcohol wrapping its tendrils around my mind, pulling me further into the abyss.

He reached for my arm, his hand wrapping around it as he pulled me up, "What are you doing?" I slurred out but couldn't find it in me to fight him. I simply didn't care for anything anymore.

"Sending you home," Cole said, being strict, which was not like him.

He led me outside and I felt a wave of cold air slam into my face. It felt nice. It made my enflamed skin burn less. He made me sit on the little patio sofa on the porch before he dropped down beside me, huffing out loudly as he pressed things over his phone.

"I called you a cab," He mumbled, meeting my hazy gaze, "Let's stay out here till he arrives, the cold air may help you sober up a bit."

I nodded carelessly and sank into my seat, getting myself comfortable. I felt Cole's eyes on me so I turned my head back to him. I smiled because he looked all blurry. He looked funny. I wanted to laugh. I haven't laughed in so long.

Cole let out a low sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, "I feel like I don't know you anymore," He said, his voice dropping low, "You don't tell me a damn thing," He grumbled out, "Do you not trust me or something?" He said.

I tried to straighten myself up but sank down once again, "It's not that," I mumbled before I rushed a hand over my face, trying to regain my balance but I felt myself floating away as the second ticked by, "I just don't want to bring you into my mess...because it's so messy."

I turned my head to him, tried to focus my eyesight, "But since you want to know so bad, let me tell you about my big dark secret then," I said, my head felt so light, like it was detached from my body, "So, remember my dad?" I asked. What's the point of hiding it anyway.

Cole nodded his head, confused at my every word, so I carried on, "Well, he is not actually my dad," I said with a low humorless chuckle because my life was so funny, it was one big sick joke, "There is this other man who is actually my real father, you should see him," I added mockingly, "He is something else entirely."

"What?" Cole mumbled lowly in shock, definitely not expecting any of this.

I nodded my head, "Yeah, yeah...he is...well, how can I explain it," I mumbled, my eyebrows pulled closer, "He isn't exactly a good person, no, he has this..." I tried to search for an appropriate word but my intoxicated brain was making it harder, "He has this distinctive madness about him."

I blinked through the blurriness, trying to read the immense shock on Cole's face, "Do you know what I read once," I smiled, "That madness is hereditary, that insanity travels through genes, that deviant behavior is genetic, and I...I always felt this dark thing lurking in my head that I never understood," I added, my gaze lost in space, "Not till lately. Not till I met him and got to know him."

"Which only proves that I am really a part of him and that makes me question everything," I added, my voice thick with the haze of alcohol and confusion. The familiar ache in my chest returned, sharper now, cutting through the fog. I felt it again, that pain, the sting in my chest, the unworthy feeling, the abnormality...

One sentence got stuck in my throat and I couldn't let it out, couldn't reflect how messed up I felt on the inside, how this truth, how it makes me question my dad's love for me...

Maybe that's why I keep hiding everything going on in my life from him, maybe that's why I went to Nikolas instead of him, maybe I didn't want to be a burden on him anymore.

Twenty years is more than enough.

My gaze flickered to Cole next to me, who stayed silent, a wave of confusion and worry swarmed his eyes as he looked back at me, trying to absorb my new reality, "So, the problem is not you Cole," I said, shaking my head, "I also feel like I don't know myself anymore either."

"Max, I..." He mumbled, utterly lost, "I really don't know what to say."

I shook my head, "You're my best friend Cole, and I appreciate your attempts to bring me back to my old life and old self," I shook my head, "But I can never be that person again."

And Valerie...she was the only thing that made me happy in the midst of this, and now I've lost her too.

The sound of the car approaching placed a pause on our conversation. Cole's eyes flickered there, and he let out a low sigh, "Come on," He mumbled, getting up before he helped me up to my feet, "We'll talk about all of this when you're sober," He added, wrapping his arm around my back to keep me steady as he led my way.

"I am sorry if I tried to push you so hard," He mumbled lowly, "But even if it's messy Max, you'll always have me, okay?"

He tapped his hand over my shoulder, "We'll deal with everything, even with Valerie," He said in assurance, "I'll help you fix it. I promise."

He opened the back door for me and I turned to him, my lips lifting into a small, lopsided smile. I brought my hand to his face and pinched his cheek, "You're so cute."

He chuckled lowly and my smile dropped down as I registered that I told him almost everything, "I am so going to regret telling you all of this tomorrow morning, aren't I," I sighed.

He nodded his head ever so giddily as he helped me get in, "Deep down, Max, you are still you," He commented, his eyebrow raising.

"Let's hope so," I mumbled as I sank into the backseat. Cole closed the door before he talked to the cab driver and handed him some money. The car took off afterwards, the motion swaying me gently.

I leaned back, my head resting against the seat, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. The city lights blurred as we sped through the streets, each one a distant star in my swirling vision, their glow bleeding into the dark like smeared paint on a canvas.

Time slipped away from me, a blur of moments until I found myself at home. I fumbled with the keys and finally stumbled inside. The house greeted me with an unsettling spin, the walls and furniture whirling around me in a dizzying dance. I reached out, desperate for stability, but my clumsy hand knocked over a vase, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Shit, shit," I mumbled, my voice slurred and low as I tried to bend down and gather the shattered pieces. The sharp edges glinted in the dim light, mocking my futile attempts.

Soft steps echoed through the hall, "Max?" My mother's sleepy voice called out, the noise having roused her from sleep.

I lifted my head to look at her, I probably did it too quickly, because the world spun violently. The room tilted, my vision blurred, and I clutched at the air before sinking to the ground beside the broken vase.

My mother's eyes widened with a mix of shock and concern as she saw me ever so unbalanced. She rushed forward, her robe billowing behind her, "Max," she whispered lowly, her voice a blend of fear and urgency as she reached for me, her worried gaze flicking all over my face, trying to understand.

She knelt beside me, her hands gentle but firm as they guided me away from the shards. "What happened?" she asked.

I gazed at her and smiled, how could I not smile, "Hey, mom," I mumbled lowly. Did she know just how much I loved her?

Her palm rested over my cheek, gently caressing my skin and her brows drew closer, "You're drunk," she stated, my wavering state betraying me.

I brought my hand up and pressed my forefinger to my thumb, "Just a little," I mumbled with a hushed voice.

I saw a flicker of disappointment flash through her gaze but she hid it rather fast. She looked around before turning her gaze back to me, her hands reached forward, gripping my arms gently, "Come here, let me get you to your room," She whispered, "I don't want your dad to see you like this."

She guided me up the stairs, her presence a comforting anchor in my disoriented state. I crashed into the comfort of my bed, and she deftly removed my shoes. I started to protest, but she helped me settle in, pulling the blanket over me with such care that, in that moment, I felt like a child again.

She disappeared briefly, only to return with a cup of something in her hand. She settled on the edge of my bed and edged it closer to my mouth. "Here, drink this, it will help you feel better."

I took a sip of the strange-tasting liquid, and she placed it on the nightstand. Her worried eyes flickered back to my face, scanning every edge and corner, wishing to understand everything that was troubling me, hoping to fix any problem she could.

She edged closer, her hand brushing the side of my hair, her fingers gently caressing my cheek. Her eyes, filled with worry and sadness, met mine, "Max, did something happen?" she asked softly.

The care in her eyes was palpable, and it wrapped around my heart, squeezing it painfully.

I nodded my head, and couldn't help but tell her, ready to spill out everything, maybe she will make it feel better somehow, "Valerie broke up with me."

My words drew confused lines over her forehead and she wanted to ask more but she waited for me first as she brushed the side of my head again, trying to soothe my frayed nerves.

My heart felt all types of messy, my chest so tight, and everything that didn't make sense before now did.

I looked at her, defeated, "Mom, I think I am in love with her," I admitted, only to her, my heart breaking down to pieces, "What am I going to do?"

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Hey!

Hope you liked the chapter :)

Are you team Valerie or team Max? xD

See ya soon ;)