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Authors: Willow Madison
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beginning of me accepting it. No. The beginning of me wanting it that way. And I was proud of myself for showing off for him.
I moan, a soft low cry.
I’ve held my tears in for as long as I could…thinking of Max, how we were, how I was…I let go and cry, big open sobs of snotty release. Bitch stirs, but only to move her head a little away from me.
I was free…and now I’m in a cage with a fucking dog and I can’t get out! So stop talking to me!
But I stop crying at this thought. I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry.
I need to stay calm. Focus. Not go crazy.
Maybe not go crazy should be first on that list...
Chapter 18 HIM
“The police haven’t found anything?”
“No.” Laura shakes her head and looks around the room. Lucy’s Mom and Dad are talking in hushed tones by the terrace doors with PJ. Mom is quiet at the table; Liz had her crying again after watching a piece on Lucy’s disappearance on the evening news. Dad and Jake are next to her. “They just left. The eye witnesses that may have seen Lucy Friday weren’t very helpful. Too many conflicting stories and details to be of any use. My investigators aren’t giving up, but…We don’t really have anything to go on right now.” My voice breaks with admitting this out loud. I wipe my hand over my face to cover my need to yell.
“I’m so sorry, Max!” Laura’s eyes fill with tears. She’s called every day, but I told her to stay away while the mob was still downstairs. A week after Lucy’s disappearance and no new news, the press is onto some scandal or something. There’s only a few reporters and cameras downstairs now.
I pat her hand on my knee. She’s Lucy’s best friend and a sweet girl, but any sign of tears or softness puts me on edge right now. Her expression changes though and she leans in a little. I frown. “I…I just wanted to let you know…” She’s whispering this to me. “Tracy talked to the police this morning. When they came to the office…”
I knew this was happening. Killaney told me that he talked to Lucy’s doctors yesterday. He seemed only a little more convinced that I shouldn’t be his main suspect. I assumed they’d already talked to her former boss and co-workers. My investigators had. I only nod.
“She…she told them that she thought you might have something to do with…” I only nod again. I’m not surprised. Not even angry. “I’m so sorry, Max…” I pat her hand again. No use even thinking about any of that.
Tracy can say what she wants. I don’t care. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the police investigation.
I’m getting used to being numb. Scotch helps.
Laura gets up and walks over to Liz, Paul, and PJ. I stay on the sofa with my head in my hands. Dad comes over to sit next to me. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows there’s nothing to say.
I need some time alone. A week surrounded by people. A week of being investigated myself. A week of losing my fucking mind with fear and hopelessness. I get up and walk into the bedroom, quietly closing the door. I haven’t shed any tears, except the ones in my dreams. I have to hold it together. Until Lucy’s home. But I can feel the tears are close, my eyes burn. My gut is retching.
I calmly walk into the closet and punch the wall. The impact feels good. I can breathe again. I shake my hand and go to the bathroom to rinse it under cool water. The knuckles are red, but I didn’t break the skin. This has been my routine lately. The only release I allow myself.
The man looking at me from the mirror isn’t me. His eyes are hollow, deep in dark circles. Jaw covered in the start of a beard. Hair matted down from hours of running my hands through the waves. And I stink. Too much scotch, too little bathing.
My hands have been idle for too long. I need to do something.
I go back to the closet and get my running shoes. I have to get my head clear again. I have to get myself under control again. I won’t last if I keep this
I moan, a soft low cry.
I’ve held my tears in for as long as I could…thinking of Max, how we were, how I was…I let go and cry, big open sobs of snotty release. Bitch stirs, but only to move her head a little away from me.
I was free…and now I’m in a cage with a fucking dog and I can’t get out! So stop talking to me!
But I stop crying at this thought. I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry.
I need to stay calm. Focus. Not go crazy.
Maybe not go crazy should be first on that list...
Chapter 18 HIM
“The police haven’t found anything?”
“No.” Laura shakes her head and looks around the room. Lucy’s Mom and Dad are talking in hushed tones by the terrace doors with PJ. Mom is quiet at the table; Liz had her crying again after watching a piece on Lucy’s disappearance on the evening news. Dad and Jake are next to her. “They just left. The eye witnesses that may have seen Lucy Friday weren’t very helpful. Too many conflicting stories and details to be of any use. My investigators aren’t giving up, but…We don’t really have anything to go on right now.” My voice breaks with admitting this out loud. I wipe my hand over my face to cover my need to yell.
“I’m so sorry, Max!” Laura’s eyes fill with tears. She’s called every day, but I told her to stay away while the mob was still downstairs. A week after Lucy’s disappearance and no new news, the press is onto some scandal or something. There’s only a few reporters and cameras downstairs now.
I pat her hand on my knee. She’s Lucy’s best friend and a sweet girl, but any sign of tears or softness puts me on edge right now. Her expression changes though and she leans in a little. I frown. “I…I just wanted to let you know…” She’s whispering this to me. “Tracy talked to the police this morning. When they came to the office…”
I knew this was happening. Killaney told me that he talked to Lucy’s doctors yesterday. He seemed only a little more convinced that I shouldn’t be his main suspect. I assumed they’d already talked to her former boss and co-workers. My investigators had. I only nod.
“She…she told them that she thought you might have something to do with…” I only nod again. I’m not surprised. Not even angry. “I’m so sorry, Max…” I pat her hand again. No use even thinking about any of that.
Tracy can say what she wants. I don’t care. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the police investigation.
I’m getting used to being numb. Scotch helps.
Laura gets up and walks over to Liz, Paul, and PJ. I stay on the sofa with my head in my hands. Dad comes over to sit next to me. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows there’s nothing to say.
I need some time alone. A week surrounded by people. A week of being investigated myself. A week of losing my fucking mind with fear and hopelessness. I get up and walk into the bedroom, quietly closing the door. I haven’t shed any tears, except the ones in my dreams. I have to hold it together. Until Lucy’s home. But I can feel the tears are close, my eyes burn. My gut is retching.
I calmly walk into the closet and punch the wall. The impact feels good. I can breathe again. I shake my hand and go to the bathroom to rinse it under cool water. The knuckles are red, but I didn’t break the skin. This has been my routine lately. The only release I allow myself.
The man looking at me from the mirror isn’t me. His eyes are hollow, deep in dark circles. Jaw covered in the start of a beard. Hair matted down from hours of running my hands through the waves. And I stink. Too much scotch, too little bathing.
My hands have been idle for too long. I need to do something.
I go back to the closet and get my running shoes. I have to get my head clear again. I have to get myself under control again. I won’t last if I keep this
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