Page 16

Hailey

We stand in the foyer of Max's house, and I’m still in a daze.

Straight ahead, a pool glimmers in the backyard.

To my left, a dining room showcases a massive table, and on the opposite side, there's a living room with comfy-looking couches facing a fireplace.

I think I see a pool table in the room beyond.

The stairway ascends to what I expect are half a dozen bedrooms. Modern furniture contrasts with the old, restored wood that's everywhere in this home.

Rosie, an adorable mutt, pants as she sits near Max’s feet, adding to the homey feel.

I’m still shell-shocked from the visit from Kaiser, but the size and coziness of Max’s home surprises me.

It’s not as large as my parents’ estate, but after spending most of my adult life in a top bunk with several other roommates, it feels luxurious.

I never felt relaxed growing up in my parents’ house; I was always paranoid about spilling something or facing repercussions for anything they disapproved of.

Max clears his throat. His expression tells me he’s analyzing me, but I doubt I’m giving anything away—mostly because I don’t know what to feel.

I was starting to like living with Savannah, but it’ll be safer with Max.

I just don’t know what he expects. Does he want me to share a bed with him? Would I even mind?

“I can show you to one of the guest bedrooms and then give you a tour of the place,” he offers.

I relax slightly with my question answered, though there's a twinge of disappointment I try not to overanalyze. Maybe the car accident knocked a few brain cells loose.

I nod and follow him upstairs. He’s carrying my duffel bag with the few belongings I have. “How long have you been living here?” I ask, trying to break some of the tension. He’s calmed down since the drive home, but I can tell he’s still worked up about what happened this afternoon.

“About five years. My family slowly moved into this cluster of homes in the neighborhood. Eventually, we gated off our section and bought the rest. A couple of houses sit empty, but my parents, grandfather, Nick, and various aunts, uncles, and cousins have settled in.”

“Do you like living so close to your family?”

I can’t quite comprehend what healthy family relationships are like .

He shrugs when we reach the hallway. “Yeah, for the most part. It’s nice not having to travel far to see anyone; it’s safer for all of us to stick together like this. But sometimes I just want to walk the dog without my aunt gossiping about my other aunt for forty minutes.”

He opens the door to a bedroom with a pink bedspread and a plush white rug over the hardwood floors.

“You can stay here. My sister, Sofia, crashes in this room sometimes when she’s too lazy to walk home in the winter, but you can take over this space.

It has a better bed than the other guest rooms.”

He hands me my bag and lingers by the door, his brow furrows and he grips the side of the doorframe.

“Sorry about forcing his decision on you… about staying here with me? I love Savannah, she’s family to me, but I don’t feel comfortable with you living there anymore.

” He swallows, looking down at his feet.

“When I saw a pool of blood in the kitchen, I thought the worst for a second and I’m not going through that again. ”

“I get it. I feel safer here too.” I toss my bag on the bed. His face seems to soften at that but I try to lighten the mood further. “The only problem is, I don’t think this place is big enough for me. Only six bedrooms? Only one kitchen? No indoor pool?”

He laughs. “I guess I’ll need to upgrade this place.” He takes a few steps back, about to leave, then flashes me a smile. “My room’s all the way down the hall. In case you get lonely.”

I feel blood rush to my face. My heart flutters. Why the hell does he have this effect on me? If any other guy said that to me I’d be annoyed. But now? I’m annoyed with myself that I don’t have a witty comeback.

He smirks as I stand there with my mouth open like an idiot then leaves me alone in the spare bedroom to unpack.

I kick off my shoes and pace in a circle, taking in my new surroundings.

I find another woman’s clothes along with perfume and cosmetics when I open some drawers, presumably belonging to his sister.

Not wanting to snoop, I find an empty drawer for my things, then flop onto the bed to mull over everything.

Kaiser, the man who has terrified me my entire life, is hurt and being held captive. Possibly tortured. It doesn’t seem real. He and everyone else in power seemed invincible; I almost expect him to burst through this door unscathed.

The fear of being captured again overshadows everything.

Max already killed Danny, and I worry Kaiser might follow soon.

I don’t know what happens to murderers in VOE, and I don’t want to think about it.

Part of me hopes this will scare them enough, and I can start fresh in Max’s home, moving out once I've saved enough. Yet, I fear they’ll retaliate, sending more people after me.

Curled in a ball on the bed, loneliness settles in. Max is looking out for me. But why? I can tell he’s attracted to me. But if that spark fades, will he ask me to leave? No longer wanting a random girl around?

I push these confusing thoughts away and rest my eyes, hoping a nap will ease my anxiety.

** *

His fridge is packed. I wasn't expecting this.

Maybe it was sexist of me, but I assumed Max would be a leftover pizza, milk, eggs, and beer kind of guy.

However, containers of leftovers are neatly stacked on one shelf alongside a myriad of ingredients and fresh produce.

I rummage through, searching for something I can manage or even recognize for a quick breakfast.

When I took that nap, I didn't expect to wake up at two in the morning with essentially a full night's rest. I tossed and turned for a couple of hours, unwilling to roam Max's house in the dark. By five a.m., hunger won, and I couldn't hide any longer.

I pull out some eggs and find bread in one of the cupboards for toast. As the eggs sizzle in the pan, I worry I’m doing something wrong. I've never cooked for myself. Ever. Most of my meals were subpar cafeteria food, or on rare occasions, I’d join my parents for a fine-dining experience.

My aim is sunny-side up, but the top is still gooey, and the bottom seems to be turning black. A burnt smell tickles my nose.

“Morning,” a voice startles me as I contemplate throwing everything out and starting over.

Adrenaline spikes, and I let out a shriek before I can suppress it, stumbling back against the counter. Memories of Kaiser appearing out of nowhere in Savannah's kitchen flood my mind.

Rosie, standing by his feet, barks at me .

Max stands across the room in just sweatpants. I force myself not to stare at his six-pack. His friendly smile quickly shifts to concern as he commands his dog, “Rosie, sit!”

She quiets down, and I clutch the counter, trying to steady my breathing.

He exhales. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

I collect myself and attempt a nonchalant stance. “Sorry, I'm just... worried about Kaiser.”

He frowns. “Worried? You won’t see him ever again, Hailey.”

“I know... but you don't know this guy. If anyone could escape, it’s him.”

He steps closer, an edge in his voice. “We can handle it.”

“Sorry,” I say, worried I’m offending him. “Are you planning on killing him?”

His eyes flick to the pan. “We’re considering it.”

I look away toward my sad excuse for breakfast. This conversation isn't reassuring.

“Hey, umm.” Max nods at the stove. “Why don’t you sit at the counter and let me take over?”

The toast pops up, making me jump. Luckily, Max is too focused on the eggs to notice.

He flips the egg with a spatula, revealing the nearly blackened bottom, and smirks at me. “Is this what you were going for?”

“Not really, no.”

He laughs, tossing my eggs in the trash, and starts pulling things from the fridge. “You never learned how to make breakfast? ”

I shake my head, embarrassed. I should have just eaten them raw.

“So, what did you eat before your, uh, ‘boring office job’?” he teases.

Silence follows as my face heats up. I used to have eggs from the cafeteria before every shift. He must think I’m clueless.

He softens his gaze. “Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He cracks an egg, and the pan sizzles. “I grew up in a family where everyone was constantly cracking jokes, no matter how fucked up things got. Don't even get me started on how some cousins act at funerals.”

He looks at me, and I force a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Seriously though, you doing okay?” His expression turns gentle. “I’m sure you’re still shaken by everything.”

“I’m fine,” I insist. “Still adjusting to... being here. Away from that place.”

He grunts and continues cooking, then plates a perfect-looking breakfast and slides it toward me. My gaze lingers too long on his bare chest.

On the train to Detroit, I never imagined my future would involve a hot, half-naked man making me breakfast in his mansion.

Meeting his brown eyes, I catch him smiling arrogantly. “Would you prefer I put on a shirt?”

I drop my fork and quickly retrieve it. “No. I mean yes. Whatever you’re comfortable with. It’s your house. ”

I take a bite of his eggs, which taste significantly better than the cafeteria breakfasts I remember.

I try to focus straight ahead, hoping he’ll let me eat in peace, but he won’t stop looking at me, making my face heat up even more.

“So, what did you do before working for us? Was that boring office job a complete lie, or did you have some role in the cult?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I worked in sales.”

“Sales?” He moves to the barstool beside me, watching me curiously. “And what did you sell?”

“Courses.”

He feigns exasperation at my one-word answers. “And what kind of courses?”

I pause, picking at my toast. “I’m not sure if I want to tell you. You’ll make fun of me.”

He shakes his head, the smirk softening. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Fine.” I take my time chewing on toast. “Courses on telekinesis, astral projection, healing medical issues with your mind. There were normal ones too, like seminars on confidence and leadership. But in reality, they made people weak and dependent on the cult’s beliefs.”

I expect laughter, but he remains thoughtful and serious.

“And people bought that?” he asks quietly. Then he catches himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it rudely. I’m sure you believed it all before.”

“Plenty of people fall for it, and I believed most of it for a long time.” I stir the yolk around.

“I never spoke to anyone outside the cult.

Plus, Dad had elaborate demonstrations. He made a man use a wheelchair for four years, then suddenly 'heal.

' I overheard the man threaten to quit and that was the event that started my spiral of disbelief. Once I found out how wrong—either factually or morally—things were, I finally started to realize what it was I grew up in. A cult.”

“Four years!” he exclaims. “In a wheelchair?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, shit.” He gets up and starts making coffee. “So that’s why you left? Realizing it was fake?”

“That and the hundred-hour work weeks.”

He slams the coffee maker shut. “How did you even sleep?”

I shrug. “I didn’t sleep much.”

I quickly adapted to little sleep, and even now, I struggle to sleep more than six hours. Despite his curiosity, I’m uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Max seems harmless with his questions, but now that breakfast is done, I want to relax and stop thinking about VOE.

“Hey, umm.” I stand and place my plate in the sink. “Thanks for breakfast, but I think I need to lie down.”

“Of course.” He scratches his head, looking uncomfortable at my sudden departure. “I hope I didn’t upset you with my questions.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Good. ”

His eyes shine when he smiles, and I find myself unable to look away. Heat rushes inside me as I realize how close we stand, his bare chest almost within reach.

“Do you need anything else?” The arrogant smirk is back.

“Nope.” I step back. “Thank you.”

“Not even coffee?” He gestures with the pot.

“I think I want to try sleeping again.”

He shrugs. “More for me.”

I rush out before I further embarrass myself, nearly stumbling over Rosie. He definitely caught me staring, but is that bad?

Yes. I can't handle anything that resembles a relationship. I have no experience—just a couple of make-out sessions in college. Trying to sleep with him might be so bad he’d lose interest and kick me out.

I take a deep breath, deciding to act as if all I want is friendship. Nothing more.