Page 52 of Cry Madness
I’ve always been his.
And yet I hear myself say, “You have me, Maddox.”
And I know that’s real.
It’s a solid truth, as tangible as the wall that once stood between us.
We step out of the shower, with Maddox drying me. Then he helps me back into my T-shirt. He’s still naked when we walk back to the bedroom, and my God, his confidence is well earned. He is incredible, living art from his head to his toes. Finer than any masterpiece I’ve ever seen.
After he tucks me back in bed, I watch with disappointment as he gets dressed. “I’m glad you came,” I confess in a whisper. “I wish you could stay.”
“I wish I could, too.” He places his top hat on his head. “Your mother would pop a vein if she found me here in the morning.”
“No kidding.” Katherine Wentworth never liked Maddox. In fact, she outright hates him. She once told me that he’s ‘beneath us’ because he’s an orphan. What a damn snob. Imagine if she knew he murdered people. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He strolls over to the bed, places his hands on the edge, and leans low. His beautiful face hovers over mine. “Of course.”
I exhale on a soft sigh. “Get home safe.”
He brushes his lips over mine, a tantalizing tease. “Have pleasant dreams, Malice.” His voice is a caress.
It takes an iron will to watch him pick up his discarded mask and leave when all I want to do is throw back the blanket and beg him to stay. But everything is deceptively insulated under the cover of night. Wish I could bottle this moment and live in it forever. Keep the dawn away. But I can’t, and long after he’s gone, I’m still awake. Lonely. Our friendship was always effortless and fun. The hard part was staying away, and as the minutes roll into hours and I remain awake, I torture myself thinking about all the reasons I kept my distance from him. Funny how they seem silly now because all the pain I expectedto experience around him…it never comes. In fact, all I feel is joy.
Joy and a wonderful sense of hope that I haven’t felt since…
…since before we found out my dad was sick.
Perhaps this is what they mean when they say time heals all wounds. It’s not that the wound disappears, but you learn to live with it. To create a new life around it and find a repaired perception of normalcy, and with it comes a renewed optimism for the future.
EIGHTEEN
“You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
—Alice,Alice in Wonderland
Slow to shed the comfort of sleep, I crawl out of bed, but my feet barely hit the floor when I see it—bold as you please on my dresser. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog from my vision. My breath catches, and a slow grin spreads across my lips.
He left me a gift last night.
With a hand pressed against my racing heart, I shuffle to the dresser. There, delicate white rose petals are scattered around a tiny pink box. I pick up the folded paper resting among the petals and see familiar handwriting that sends a flutter of butterflies swirling in my belly.
Eat Me
Love, M
I rip open the box, excited to discover what Maddox left for me. My laughter spills out at the delightful treasure inside. I bite the oatmeal cranberry cookie, astonished that Maddox remembered this flavor is my favorite. But that’s who he is—he holds onto the little details, the meaningful things most people overlook or forget.
The last time we baked cookies together, we were just kids—around eleven or twelve, if memory serves. We made a mess in my mother’s kitchen, getting flour and sugar everywhere. I don’t remember what was more fun, baking or laughing together while we cleaned up. Or, perhaps, it was afterward, when we devoured our gooey masterpieces.
I polish off the rest of the cookie before texting Maddox to thank him for the sweet treat.
Me: Good morning
I bring the phone with me to the bathroom, with him replying while I’m brushing my teeth.
Maddox: Morning lovely
Me: Thank you for the treat