Page 26

Max

He survived the surgery. Barely. I should probably feel relieved, but I’m too exhausted to process anything else.

I lean my head against the cool window in the backseat of Mom’s car.

Neither Dad nor I were in any state to drive home after everything that’s happened today.

She barely has the air-conditioning on, so I feel like I’m suffocating back here, but I’ve already complained three times on this drive home from the hospital.

It doesn't matter now; we’re pulling into our neighborhood. Mom rolls up into my driveway.

“Thanks for the ride.” I step out abruptly, probably seeming rude. But as much as I love my family, I’m sick of being in front of them. Images of the six guns pointed at me kept flashing through my mind all afternoon, but I had to keep calm, despite everything .

My house looks daunting in the dark, and for the first time since Hailey moved in with me, I wish I were going into an empty house.

I can’t handle more drama or emotions tonight, so I’m hoping she’s asleep.

I treated her like garbage when she showed up with Savannah.

To my father and grandfather, she’s just a fling, and they want her gone.

Indifference seemed safest, but I worry I went too far.

It’s not like they were focused on our relationship when Nick was near death and we were smoothing things over with the Russians.

I’ll apologize and make it up to her. I really should explain what’s going on with Marco Ferrara, too—about the betrothal—but tell her I have no intention of following through.

But tonight is not the night for that.

I can’t handle any more conflict. Maybe in a week or two.

Or three.

“Max!” Dad's voice calls out.

I turn around. “What?”

“Slow down for a sec,” he says.

“What?” My voice comes out flatter than I intended.

“You okay?” he asks. I’m almost taken aback by the genuine concern in his voice. He usually checks in on me in a sarcastic, passive-aggressive manner. Although, I don’t know if I have another situation this severe to compare to this with.

“Sure. I think I just need to sleep.”

“You know, I’ve had a couple of close calls before, but nothing like that in my decades of doing this shit. ”

I run my hand through my hair, still sweaty from that boiling car. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“It would have been if you hadn’t reacted quickly.” He shrugs. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling self-conscious.

We’ve had a contract of not openly showing affection since I was a teenager, intensified when Jack went away.

It works for us. My gaze drifts past his shoulder to see Mom sobbing behind the steering wheel.

I nod behind him. “You should probably get her home.”

He looks toward her and nods, pulling me in for a quick hug. “Get some rest, kid. I’ll let you know if we hear anything about Nick.”

I nod, swallowing a lump in my throat. I want to say more to him but can’t find the words, so I drift inside my house instead.

It’s pitch black when I enter, but Rosie is right by the door where I expect her to be. I’m surprised to see Teddy too, but then I remember Savannah was here when everything went down.

Hunger hits out of nowhere, so the kitchen is my first stop. I think back on my day and realize I only had a small breakfast and my heartbeat must have averaged 180 all afternoon from the stress. That might explain why I feel so weak. I pull out some leftovers and start reheating them.

I rest my head on the counter and start making a mental list of things I need to do to feel human again: eat a plateful of food, drink a gallon of water, take a cold shower, scream into a pillow, force myself to calm down, check if Hailey's awake .

That last item cuts to the front of the line when I hear two footsteps pad into the kitchen.

I can’t read her stony expression, but her eyes are bloodshot, either from crying or waking up.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods. “You?”

The microwave beeps, and my hand reflexively reaches for a gun that isn’t tucked into my waistband anymore. My heart pounds in my chest, taking me back to the first day Hailey moved in when she was so timid in the kitchen and how she must have felt.

I pull my meal out of the microwave and take a seat at the counter. She sits next to me, yet I’ve never felt so distant from her before. She rests her chin on her hand, her gaze focused on my microwaved casserole.

“Want a bite?”

She frowns, shaking her head. “Not hungry.”

I take a few bites, knowing she’s upset with me and I have to fix it. But I’m unsure how to start.

“I’m sorry we kicked you out of the hospital,” I say.

“It’s fine.”

She’s lying.

“No, seriously. It was so nice of you to drive Savannah to the hospital. You should have been able to stay a bit. But there were cops... or feds... we don’t really know who was lurking around and couldn’t risk anything. ”

She nods. “That’s what your grandpa—or whoever that old man that talked to me—said.”

“That was him.” I take another bite. “I wish I talked to you before you left, but I was in shock and couldn’t think straight.”

“I get it,” she says. “How’s Nick?”

“Alive.” I swallow. “But we don’t know the extent of the damage. We’re waiting for him to wake up.”

People were throwing around medical jargon I didn't understand before we left. It didn’t sound good. There's a chance he’ll never fully recover.

“I’m sorry,” she deadpans.

I stir my dinner, losing my appetite after a few bites.

Hailey stares ahead, looking like she wants to be anywhere but here.

It hurts. She must have felt isolated at the hospital, and I’m no fun to be around right now, but life isn’t easy for me either.

This has been one of the worst days of my life.

I try to talk about happier things: what she and Savannah did this afternoon, how the dogs are getting along, if she felt safe driving so far. All I get are grunts and one-word answers.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m used to Hailey being a source of comfort, a guaranteed mood lift. Even though I deserve it, her being mad is torture, and I literally can’t handle it after today.

“Can you please either tell me what’s going on with you or get out of the kitchen?” I snap.

She jumps up from the stool, tears in her eyes, fists balled at her side but says nothing .

“Look,” I continue, knowing I should probably shut the fuck up, but I have no control.

“I get it. I was an asshole this afternoon. But you know what, Hailey? I watched my cousin bleed out on a warehouse floor, unsure if he’d survive.

I stared down six different gun barrels.

My only defense was my gun at a Russian pakhan’s temple.

Then at the hospital... I... I... wasn’t expecting you.

I didn’t know how to react, and my family wanted you gone to protect us.

I tried to find you, but you left so quickly. ”

I pause, struggling for breath. The fact that Hailey is still icing me out makes me want to hurl my reheated plate across the room.

“What’s your plan with me?” she asks.

“What?” I’m too tired to process her question.

“What are we? Savannah said something by the pool about how you can’t date anyone who’s not well-connected, then at the hospital...”

“She said what?” I snap.

“Well, she said that Nick couldn’t be with her because her dad’s status isn’t high enough. Then I asked about you, and she shut down.”

I bury my face in my hands. Should I mention Elena Ferrara now? I should, but Hailey feels so distant. I’m terrified it’ll ruin everything and she’ll walk away forever.

I can’t handle that. Not now.

Maybe never .

“That’s probably what Nick tells her, but it’s not true. If he wanted to be with her, it would happen.” That’s half a lie. Those two fight so much that a committed relationship wouldn’t work.

“I swear to God, Max, if you’re not telling the truth...”

“One day, I’ll be in charge of this family. You think anyone can tell me what to do?”

I’m digging my grave deeper. Now, I need to call this marriage arrangement off without her finding out. My chest tightens; I can’t breathe. I can’t handle this now. Not after today. Not after all of that blood.

“Can you please give me some fucking space?” I ask.

Her eyes narrow, scanning me before her face softens. She turns away, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I storm to the basement, wanting isolation.

I drop onto the workout bench in the gym, not facing the mirror because I can’t face myself.

Why did I lie? I should have just opened up.

About everything. I’m scared she’d leave if she knew everything.

That I’m betrothed. That her father offered ransom money, and we refused. That my grandfather wants her gone.

The only silver lining is my family, distracted by Nick, won’t wonder why Hailey’s still around.

I lie back, hitting my head on the bar, but finally feel like I’m relaxing. Like I’m not having a heart attack.

“One day at a time,” I murmur. I close my eyes and try to force my mind to stop. Stop thinking about Nick and the monitors’ beeps, the hospital staff’s shouts. Stop thinking of the family members I watched break down.

Stop thinking about what to do about Hailey.