Authors Note: I had twenty one reviews for chapter twenty one, and I thought it was funny so I updated (: Good thing I checked it when I did, huh? ;)
Yeah, so I won't make you suffer anymore. YOU'RE WELCOME.
Chapter Twenty Two
Love
Fang. Fang. It was Fang. No. It couldn't be Fang. But it was Fang. Except it was impossible. Fang was in New York. Fang was not in Arizona. Fang, Fang, Fang. No, no, no. I was . . . dreaming. Yeah. This was all just a dream, and I was going to wake up soon and realize that everything was back to normal; and people were on proper coasts of the country. Dreaming. Just dreaming.
Besides the small fact that I obviously wasn't, of course.
"Max," he breathed, and the sound of his voice made every particle of my being tense up and curl in on itself. My toes dug into the soles of my shoes, and my fingernails bit into my palms so hard I had to be drawing blood.
This couldn't feasibly be happening right now.
He couldn't seriously be standing in front of me, after so long, and still have such an affect. The mere sight of him had my heart constricting, working itself into a painful palpitation. The shaggy, raven black hair. The olive tone of his smooth skin. The curve of his lips. The marble-like obsidian of his eyes . . . Right down to all the blemishes and scars he wore from street fighting. Everything about him was so achingly familiar and reminiscent of a better time.
Except, when had it ever really been a good time? It wasn't like everything magically became perfect and fairytale-ish the moment he stepped into my life. No. Quite the opposite. New troubles always unfolded in the wake of a solved one. He was the only one capable of making me forget about how screwed up things were though, and that counted for so much. He had always been there for me . . . up until a certain point.
Then it all crashed and burned around me.
"Wha . . . What are . . . doing here?" I stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence around the blockade in my throat. At my side I could feel the confusion radiating off of Zach, as the arm around my shoulders became increasingly heavy. By the next comment that came out of Fang's mouth, I don't think it went unnoticed by him either.
"Who's that?" he asked, his voice low and seemingly controlled. There was an emotion in his eyes though, that screamed he was anything but. It was easy to see, because I was so used to nothing being there at all. Any difference was simple to spot.
"Uh . . . This is Zach. My friend," I hurried to add, and wanted to suck the words back in as soon as they passed my lips. I shouldn't have cared what Fang thought Zach was to me anyway.
So what if he was more than a friend? It was none of Fang's business in either case. We were nothing anymore. He had made that very clear when he cheated on me. With one of the people I hated most, nonetheless.
"Max," Zach intoned, and I looked up to see him narrowing his green eyes at Fang. He could obviously sense my discomfort towards him. "Who's that?"
"This . . . This is Fang. He's . . . no one. He's no one," I spat through gritted teeth, my anger bubbling. What did he think he was doing here anyway? He couldn't just waltz back into my life. He didn't deserve to be associated with it any longer. Not one bit.
I felt myself jerk forwards, stomping down the remaining steps until I was level with said douchebag. His tall, wiry frame made a barrier between me and the parking lot. I gave him my best scintillating glare, shoving roughly passed him. The tingles sporadically dancing across my palms from where I made contact with his broad shoulders couldn't be ignored, though. Zach was close on my heels, keeping a reassuring hand on my lower back. With perverse notions I hoped Fang was aware of his proximity, despite my 'friend' claim.
"Max, wait. Please."
There was nothing I could do to help the stumble in my step, at hearing the raw emotion in his voice. The weakness. The vulnerability. It immediately ate away at my heart, reopening barely concealed wounds. It made me hate him even more; for having such power over me. He shouldn't. I shouldn't have let him.
But I did, and there was no reclaiming that.
Slowly I turned, closing my eyes briefly and breathing deeply. Facing him was going to take a lot of self control on my part. I was going to do it, though. There was no way I was going to cower from him. I was Maximum. No matter what, I would stay strong. If proving that meant I had to stare in the eye of the one who shattered any trust I had, then so be it.
"You don't deserve any of my time. Don't you think I've wasted enough on you?" I demanded coldly, unflinching as I glared into the depths of his dark irises. Remembering him with that stupid red head was all I needed to harden my resolve.
I watched his fingers curl into fists, and the wince he couldn't help but wear after my remark. Such emotions didn't belong on someone who was usually incredibly stone-faced. But what did I know? Not anything about him, certainly.
"Goodbye, Fang." Ice. Nothing but ice and malice, dripping from those simple words. I was getting some sense of closure, at that. There was a finality to the whole situation that put some part of me to ease, but only slightly.
"I saved your life, remember? You owe me."
His declaration had me fumbling to a halt once more. Sighing heavily I felt my entire body go still again, just waiting. After he deemed that my attention was captured, he resumed speaking; his tone low and smooth as ever, though there was a slight trembling present that only I could have probably detected.
"Just hear me out. Then we'll be even."
My gaze automatically flitted to Zach, where he was staring down at me with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. I could see he was mainly concerned though, and albeit confused. A lot. I smiled genuinely up at him, though there was probably a tinge of sadness there as well.
"If you want to go, we can go. I'll take care of this," he murmured under his breath, so that only I could hear. Even the mere thought of Zach 'taking care' of Fang made me want to laugh out loud. Not that Zach was scrawny or anything, but he also hadn't honed his skills on the streets of New York. There was a big difference between there and this tiny suburb in Arizona.
"Thanks. I really appreciate that . . . But he's right," I admitted begrudgingly, frowning to myself. "You go ahead to your grandma's. I'll see you later."
"Are you sure?" he asked, gnawing at his bottom lip as if it really wasn't a good idea to him. Which it probably wasn't, but hey; when did I have the best judgement towards staying out of trouble?
I nodded, trying for a thin smile once more.
"Alright," he said in resignation, shooting a scathing look over my shoulder where I could sense Fang hovering, silently observing our exchange. "I won't be far, though. I think I'm going to take my chances lurking, just in case he tries to kidnap you or something."
Cue rolling of the eyes.
I stalled for as long as possible after that, going as far as to keep Zach in my line of vision until he turned a corner and was out of sight. Even then I found it hard, but I eventually took enough deep breaths to force myself to face Fang.
We stared each other down for what seemed like forever after that. His gaze wandered, roaming over my features like he was memorizing the sight of me once again. I fought to remain stoic and calm, keeping my eyes trained on his no matter how much it pained me to do so.
"How have you been?"
I deadpanned. That's what he decided to open up with? How have you been? He practically destroyed me with his betrayal, and that's all he could come up with?
"How the hell do you think I've been?" I snapped, crossing my arms in a vain effort to keep us separated. I had a feeling that if he wanted us closer, he would make it happen despite my precautions.
His lips pressed together into a tight line at the tone of my voice, and despite his best efforts his eyes slipped shut as well. Good. It was easier to look at him that way.
"I don't know. Maybe as bad as I've been. Maybe not," he muttered roughly, the words he was shaping coming out sounding strangled and uneven. It made me unsure of my own actions, seeing him so emotional. It didn't happen a lot.
"Let's not forget our places here, Fang," I hissed his name; proudly noting that my voice didn't crack in the slightest. "This is your fault. Not mine. I'm not the one that cheated, okay? I'm not the one who broke your heart. You did that to me. To yourself."
"No."
Just like that. No questions to it. Firmly. Surely. As if I was as blind as Iggy in the situation. Like I didn't know what I saw.
"No?" My eyebrows had to have disappeared into my hairline.
"No. I swear to you, that's not what happened. If you had just listened to me back in New York, you would know that. But you're so goddamn stubborn, Max," he insisted, tugging at a lock of his dark hair. His expression was harried as he took a purposeful step forward, and I was immediately rendered immobile under his poignant stare. "So stubborn."
"What do you call taking her to lunch with your parents then? What do you call putting your arm around her and holding her hand? What do you call kissing her in public, for everyone -including me- to see. Huh? What do you call that?" I cried, lower lip quivering. It was becoming increasingly harder to hold on to the anger I had started out with. I could feel it slipping through, being replaced by an overwhelming sadness that cut straight to the core.
"What do you call that?" I asked helplessly. Helplessly. For the first time in quite a long time . . .
Helpless.
"I wasn't cheating on you. I would never cheat on you. Not deliberately. Not like you think." His inky, beautiful eyes were so stark and open as they drilled into mine. He was trying. Really trying. But when had trying and hoping and wishing ever been enough?
"Then enlighten me," I suggested, laughing bitterly. "Tell me what I should have seen."
My breath caught in my throat, hovering there as he took that last small step; erasing any space between us. The tips of his shoes brushed against mine as he bent his head to make full eye contact with me. I could feel my fingers beginning to shake as he reached out and ran a thumb over my jawline. That was probably the prime moment to sucker punch him right in the mouth, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to do it. His gaze was intense, and I couldn't tear away from his sight even if I wanted to.
"My parents made me." He could tell I was beginning to object, because he cut me off instantly. "I know that's the sorriest excuse in the book, but you've met them. You know how . . . vulture-like they are. I guess they thought I wouldn't be with you for so long; like I was only doing it for the thrill of defying their wishes. They couldn't see how much I feel for you, Max."
"So what, they gave you some sort of ultimatum?"
"Exactly. They told me if I didn't break up with you they were going to cut off all my funds. I'd have no money," he explained, his forehead now resting on mine.
"And wouldn't that have hurt the pretty rich boy so much?" I frowned mock-pityingly.
"It would have hurt us. For the future. You aren't planning to go to college, which is fine. But I do. Guess where all the cash for that would go? Not to mention how much of a cushion that would have been anyway. I needed that money. You and I both know that."
Yeah, so maybe he had a point. But that was still no excuse by any means.
"Where does that stupid Red-Haired Wonder come in, then? What about Lissa?" I spat, finding enough courage to shove him back a few steps. He stumbled to a stop, running a hand through his shaggy hair.
"She was another added 'bonus' to the ordeal. Blame my mother. It was her idea. It was either Lissa or Brigid. I didn't have a choice. It's not like I enjoyed being in her company, and I sure as hell didn't like lying to you about it."
"Then why did you?" I demanded, sighing heavily. "Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?"
"And say what? What could I have possibly told you that would have done any good? As I said before, you're stubborn. You wouldn't have accepted it. You'd probably have gotten mad that I'd even consider it," he pointed out, resuming his previous position. His proximity made it hard to breathe, but he didn't seem to notice.
As it was, I didn't have enough wits about me to respond to that.
"Your whole life has been about nothing other than right now. That's not your fault. I'm capable of thinking of the future, though; of what's going to be best in the long run," he breathed, the warmth of his reassuring words washing over me.
"You should have told me," I repeated insistently, my brain trying to process his entire explanation.
"I know. It wouldn't have turned out well either scenario, though."
"I . . . I . . ."
I was at a loss. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to forgive and forget? Was I supposed to harden my resolve and turn the other way? . . . Was I even capable of doing the latter? There were too many questions swirling around in my mind and not enough space to think them through.
"Max."
I closed my eyes, hating the emotions the sound of my name coming from him elicited. It wasn't fair. He hurt me so terribly. He shouldn't be able to make me feel this way . . . so unsure and jumbled in the head.
"Max, open your eyes," he commanded softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
They fluttered open of their own accord, automatically responding to his order no matter how loud my conscious screamed for them to be still. I was immediately assaulted by the proximity he had gained, his lips just hovering over mine.
"Max, I . . . I've been trying to tell you this for so long. There was always something in the way, though. Always."
His scent washed over me from all directions as one hand rested on my cheek and the other on the small of my back; so clean and clear, like the air just after it's rained. I tried not to breathe it in too deeply. It was almost addictive, like a drug.
"Max Ride. Maximum. Whoever, it doesn't really matter. I . . . I l- . . ." He closed his eyes here, taking a deep breath as I watched on in abate interest. "I love you."
I love you.
No big speech, as was totally unnecessary. Just Fang. Simple. Perfect . . . And adding ten more loads of confusion to an already excessively large pile.
Then he kissed me, his lips first brushing mine lightly, increasing in pressure as I responded to his touch. My fingers found their way around his neck, as his guided me flawlessly into his safe, familiar embrace. Which was nice, but still; gah! Confusing.
I pulled away, hesitating. His slightly bewildered expression gazed down on me as I stepped back, trying to allow enough room between us for a few coherent thoughts to slip through.
"I need to think about this," I said slowly, but surely. His face fell, but was quickly replaced by a blank mask. He nodded, his eyes passing on a silent message of encouragement; that he understood.
Somewhat reluctantly I turned away, dragging my feet as I exited the parking lot. I could feel his burning stare on me the entire way, the remains of it lingering even as I turned into an alley that provided a shortcut home, and out of his sight.
I was almost to the other side when I heard a scuffle, instantly charging my senses into hyper drive. My reaction wasn't fast enough, though. In a split second I was on the ground, my head throbbing where it had been smashed in by an unidentified object. Knowing Fang was still somewhere nearby I yelled as loud as I could, my voice becoming muffled shortly after by a dirty hand at my mouth.
My vision tunneled, and the next thing I saw was a fractured version of the alley's brick wall, followed by a deep, never ending blackness.
Authors Note: HahaHA. You guys probably thought I was going to let you off easy this time. No way! That's not any fun, now is it? :D
Also: a lot of you assumed correctly that his parents made him do it, but not for the reason you all thought. If you remember: Fang was acting weird when the story began. He didn't find out about his parents potentially adopting Angel and Gazzy unitl later, so that couldn't have been used as a threat to get him to do what they wanted.
So yeah.
P.S. If I wrote a book, would you buy it and .. I dunno .. start a fan club? ;) hahahaha. Kidding! (About the last part, I mean)
P.P.S. Someone just reviewed so it's now twenty two reviews for chapter twenty one . . . Oh well.