Chapter 11: Queen of the cage, part 1

Max

Time. Time is relative, said Einstein. And he was absolutely right. From the eyes of a small fly, our movements are very slow, like we're moving through thick honey. If the sun would be a living being, it would see us moving in a very fast pace. A human's life would be over in a blink of an eye. From an outside view, the time at the event horizon of a black hole nearly stands still. Even every human has a different awareness of time. If you wait for something, every minute feels like an hour. But if you have fun, time runs away.

For Max, the relativity of time was essential, especially at this moment. She hasn't figured out how, but at some point during her training, she'd noticed that if she concentrates hard enough, she was able to see the world in slow motion. Master Tsun told her that it is indeed possible to reach such a state of meditation, but she knew that this was something else, because normally it would take decades of practice to achieve something like that. Her first attempts with this ability were far less effective than they are now, after a few years of training. Since she learned to use this ability purposely, she used it for her advantage, because in this state she's able to think about her next move and to predict her opponent's next movement. Short: she's able to improve her reaction time. But as everything else, this skill has its limits and some disadvantages. Firstly, it was not possible to stop time completely or to rewind it. Secondly, there's no correlation between the slowed time and her movements; normally they are as slow as everything else, except that she could trigger them earlier. Yes, theoretically it would be possible to move faster, but physics and its laws of nature, which, unless time, are not relative, but constant, are real bitches. For one, there is air pressure. The faster you move, the more air resistance you will feel. Just imagine putting your arm out of the window of a vehicle, travelling with 100 miles per hour. Then there are the boundaries of the human body. Sight is simple, because it's just a bunch of electrical signals from your eyes, processed by the brain. But in order to move a muscle, let alone a limb, there is a lot of signaling and processing needed, plus that the stretching and contracting of the muscles take some time. So, you have to be very careful not to overdo it or otherwise your muscles and sinews would tear apart. Therefore, a lot of training is needed to learn about your body's boundaries and to perfect the movement under slow motion. And here we come to the disadvantage of this ability. It was draining. To hold the state of slow motion caused strong headaches. The longer and more intense you use it, the more your head will hurt, until you collapse. Additionally it takes a lot of strength to move fast, hence to the air pressure and the strain of the muscles and sinews. Therefore, you have to choose your next moves wisely or you'll be an easy prey for your enemies.

As soon as Max gazed down the barrel of this fucking gun, she had slowed time so much that she could see how the bullet leaves the gun, heading towards her head, which was already hurting like shit. She knows that her options were very limited. For kicking the gun out of the way it was too late, because the projectile was already on its way. If she doesn't move, she'll be dead. If she moves too much, she'll go unconscious or worse, and be as good as dead as well.

The black-haired girl focuses some more and starts to tilt her head to the right. It feels like she tries to shove it through a concrete wall. Every muscle in her neck screamed and she fears that her backbone was about to snap any moment. The bullet comes closer and closer, until it starts to touch the skin on her left cheek. Max feels how the 9 millimeter bullet scratches over her face inch by inch, the pain is almost unbearable, but she pulls through. Some black-dyed hair flies away as its cut by the projectile and carried away by the air blow.

After the bullet passed her head, Max lets time flow normal again. The bald Russian looks at her in awe, unable to cope that he'd missed her. The small girl uses his hesitation and kicks the pistol out his hand. It flies high and Max catches it mid-air. Now the mobster is looking down the barrel, putting his hands up in the air, showing that he surrenders.

Max pulls her phone from her pocket and reaches it to the bald man with a stern expression. It is hard for her to stay conscious, but she has to. She mustn't show any weakness or they would know that she's no strength left to continue the fight. "Hit the call-button!" she demands.

"Fuck you, bitch!" answers the Russian.

A shot breaks, and the 9 millimeter bullet passes the smaller mobster's head by an inch and impacts into the dirt right in front of gorilla number one, who just regained conscious and tried to stand up. He petrifies instantly. "Hit the fucking call-button or we'll see if you can dodge a bullet, asshole!"

Baldy takes the phone and makes the call. "Hello?" he says and after a while his eyes widen and he continues to speak in Russian. "Da…da…konechno…Da, tovarishch Stukov…do svidaniya." He gives the phone back to Max. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Ever heard of the 'Queen of the cage'?" she asks and the bald man nods.

"For the boss she's a legend."

"Well, then you've just met a legend. Now, you and your two gorillas fuck off and don't bother me or my friend ever again!"

The Russian gets up, dusting off his coat. "Mark my words, bitch, Stukov won't be around forever to protect your tiny ass and as soon as he's not in charge anymore, I'll come for you and your friend!"

This threat elicits a scoff from the black-haired girl. "Can't wait to kick your ass again, asshole!" she answers mockingly. The bald man gives her an evil glare, turns around and heads off, his gorillas following him with insecure steps.

Max watches the mobsters as they drive off and as soon as the black van is out of sight, she drops the gun and collapses to her knees. Holding her head with both hands she lets out a groan. Her vision blurs and everything is spinning. She's on the verge of losing her consciousness.

"Max, are you okay?" Chloe's concerned voice chimes from behind her as she lays one hand on her back.

"B-Blackwell…need to…n-need rest." Max stammers before everything goes dark.

"MAX!"

Seattle, November 2012

Downtown Seattle. The streets are enlightened by thousands of lights from street lanterns and the billboards of various shops, bars and clubs. Normally, you would expect a place where illegal things happen to be in some fucked up part of a city, but not this one. Max heard about this club some time ago. A normal dance club in the evening, but after mid-night it turns into an arena. Of course it was impossible for a 17-year-old girl to enter such a place, but she had connections, so hopefully getting in shouldn't be the problem, if she plays it cautiously.

Dressed in a black jacket to keep the coldness of the oncoming winter from her body, black military pants and military boots, she watches the entrance from the other side of the street. 'Okay, we've got three bouncers there. Two look Russian and one Hispanic…this one's my ticket to get inside.'

Crossing the street, Max heads straight towards the Hispanic guy, avoiding the other two bouncers. "Hi, are you Rick?" she asks the guy.

He looks at her shortly, before focusing on his job of checking IDs again. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Max and I wanna get in." she says nonchalantly, but with a sweet voice.

The big bouncer shrugs. "Sure. Are you 21?"

"No, but I'm here to give you best regards from Fernando."

The tall Hispanic's brown eyes are fixing on Max for a brief time, before he turns his head and calls another guy. "Hey Artjom, can you cover for me a minute? I need to take a piss."

Another broad Russian-looking man comes over. "Yes, but don't take too long!" he says with a Russian accent.

Max follows the Hispanic bouncer in an alley right beside the club as he promptly stops, gets out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, offering Max one too. Hesitating at first, Max choses to take a cig and the guy lights it. 'Actually I've stopped smoking some time ago, but I think it should help me socialize here. Ugh, I haven't missed the disgusting taste.'

"How is the old art-fart?" the bouncer asks suddenly, taking a draft. "The name's Ricardo, by the way."

"The old art-fart is in my class and a very good art-fart. But let's cut the crap, I want you to get me inside. Can you do it?"

Ricardo scuffs and shakes his head. "Listen girl, why should I let you in? Just because you know my brother? Dream on. I could get into a lot of trouble."

Anger starts to rise inside of the black-haired girl. She flips away the cig and looks at Ricardo with an evil glare. "Now you listen, I don't give a shit about that. I want to get in and I wanna fight, 'kay?"

Now the bouncer bursts out into laughter. "What, you wanna fight?! Haha, that was a good one!" His face gets stern again. "Okay girlie, here's the deal. You walk home now and never come back and I won't kick your butt."

Max reaches a point where she only wants to ram her fist into Ricardo's face, but she tries to fight it down; her hands already clenched. 'Okay Max, calm down. Raging won't help you here. You know who owns this place. If I'd try to get in there with violence, I'd be dead in a few seconds. Try to argue with this guy.' "Listen Rick, I know that you have your rules here and I don't want you to get in trouble, but I have a reason why I'm here and why I need to fight."

Rick stands there for a while, smoking and thinking, until he comes to his final conclusion. "No. Now go home and tell my brother, if he sends me another one of his classmates here, I'm gonna bust his ass!" He flips away his cig and wants to walk away, but with a swift move Max grabs the collar of his jacket and pins him to the wall.

"Look into my eyes, dipshit!" she says with gritted teeth and the Hispanic bouncer looks into the girl's blue eyes. "Do I look like an adrenaline junky? Do I look like a person who just wants to kick some ass to feel better the next morning? Do I look like I belong here? I'm not! I'm desperate!" Her eyes are getting misty and a tear flows down her cheek. "I want to help a very important person; a person who means the world to me. And the only way is to fight and gain a lot of money really fast. Please! I'm begging you here. Please, gimme a fucking chance!"

The freckled girl loosens her grip and Ricardo sighs. "Okay, this is how it's gonna be. See that door there?" he asks, pointing with his finger to the club's backdoor. "Through this door runs everything that is not quite legal, so there are no cams. Give me 10 minutes and I'll unlock it for you. After that, I'll give you one minute to sneak inside. One minute, nothing more! After you're inside, you're on your own. Got it?"

Max nods. "Understood."

"Good. Wait here." Rick says and walks back out of the alley.

Max stands in that dark alley for what felt like an hour as suddenly the backdoor opens with a click. She takes a look around before heading to the door. Ricardo opened it a bit; just enough to keep it open, but not too much to be obvious. Cautiously the black-haired girl opens the backdoor and peeks inside. It leads into a small storage room. The deep basses of the loud techno-music can already be felt in here. As soon as Max is sure that no one is in there, she enters the room, unbuttons her jacket to prevent a heat-stroke and sneaks to the door that leads to the dance floor. Again, she checks that nobody's there to see her and goes on.

Colorful lights are flashing to the beat of the deafening music. In the center of the dance floor stands a big cage, now used by some Go-Go-Dancers, later probably the arena for the fighters. Around it, on the dance floor, people are dancing freestyle. Tables and a bar are set near the walls. 'I should ask at the bar where I can enlist myself for the fights. Mostly the barkeepers know the right people.' Max thought and heads for the bar.

"Hi! One coke, please!" Max yells at the barkeeper, a broad man in a suit, to overcome the loud music. He just nods and a few seconds later she got her cold beverage. Now she signs him to come closer. "Yo, where do I enlist here for the fights?"

The man gazes at her with a stern expression. "Does this look like a boxing arena? There are no fights here. Now pay your drink and fuck off!" he answers agitated.

"Dude, stop shitting me, I know what's going on here!" Mustering her, the broad man waves with his hand to someone and a moment later two bouncers stand behind her. Max turns around, sipping on her drink, with a wry smile. "Hi guys! Here to bring me to your enlisting-dude? Good service!"

"You! Come!" one of these gorillas says in bad English.

Following the two thugs, Max is brought to the back of the club, up some stairs and into an office. In this office are eight persons. Five dudes dressed in suits with guns in their holsters; one guy sitting at a small table, writing and calculating some stuff, probably the bookie; a tall, slender man, also in a black suite, but instead of a gun he wears a katana; and then there is an older man with grey hair, standing in front of a window, watching the dance floor. He waves with his hand and the two gorillas are leaving the room. 'Obviously the boss of this joint.'

"There are some simple rules in this club. Rules I established out of good reason." The older man says with a Russian accent, still gazing outside the window. "For example, no people under 21. No troublemakers. No cops. And yet, a young girl stands in my club, clearly not 21 years old, asking for trouble." Now he turns around, his brown eyes fixating on Max. The office's door opens again and Ricardo is brought in.

'Shit, this is bad. Really fucking bad!'

The Russian boss walks over to his desk. "Mr. Gomez, can you explain to me, how this girl was able to enter my club?"

Ricardo shrugs. "She must've snuck in."

Suddenly the tall man draws a gun and shoots the Hispanic bouncer in the leg, who is going down with a loud cry of agony. "NO!" Max yells and the gun is pointed at her, instantly.

"Shut up!" The gun wanders back to Rick. The boss walks towards the shot man and kneels beside him. "I thought we had an agreement, Mr. Gomez. I gave you money and all you had to do was to work the debt off. Your job was very simple; check IDs and throw out everyone who makes trouble." He stands up again and holsters his pistol. "You're about to achieve a Ph.D. degree and still you're not able to do a job an uneducated durak could do." With a big sigh he walks back to his desk and waves at one of the armed guys. "Bring this idiot to our doctor to patch up his leg." The grey-haired man sits down into his cozy chair. "Mr. Gomez, you have one month to pay me the rest of my money back. Now go!" With another wave Rick, who groans in pain with every step, is brought outside. The boss now glares at Max. "And now to you, devochka. What are you doing here?"

Max, still a bit shocked that Rick got shot because of her, summons every bit of courage she could bring up, glaring back at the boss with a stern expression. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I can. Now answer my question!"

"I wanna fight!"

The whole room bursts into laughter, even the old man laughs out loud. Only the slender man behind him, probably his personal bodyguard, stays serious, analyzing her. As the boss stops laughing, the whole office goes silent. "I don't know who gave you the information that we are doing fights in my club, but this person brought you into deep trouble. Do you even know who I am?"

"Alexei Stukov, head of the Stukov-Organization, which is a part of the wory w sakone. Your organization runs most of the drug and weapon operations on the west coast, and you support and organize cage-fights around the country, so I think that I'm at the right place." she answers dryly, trying to sound sincere.

Frowning and clearly angry, he waves with his hand again. "Get her out of here and make sure that she stays out!"

One of the guards grabs Max's jacket from behind. "Come on, little girl." he says and wants to drag her away.

Anger and desperation are rising inside of Max, again, but this time she isn't able to suppress it. She grits her teeth and her face gets red as the fury takes over. 'I can't give up now. This is the only chance I have to save her. And if I can't save her, my life ain't worth shit. So, fuck it! Time to show them my talent.'

With a smooth move, the smaller girl slides out of her jacket, surprising the guard who has to take one step back, because he is still pulling on the garment. She uses his surprise, grabs the shoulders of this way bigger man and uses them to ram her knee three times into his stomach. He bends over in pain with a groan and with a fourth kick to the head he goes down. Another guard darts towards her, like he wants to tackle her to the ground. Max makes a step to the side, grabs his left arm with her left hand and with the right hand his neck. Using his momentum against him, she smashes his head against the solid desk.

She stops in her movement as 2 guns are pointed at her, ready to unload their magazines into her body, only awaiting the order from the boss, who just looks at her with one lifted eyebrow, mustering the girl, who now only wears a tank-top, showing her muscular arms. The guards are taking down their guns and help their comrades as the white-haired Russian gives them a gaze and a short nod. "So, you can do more than just talk a few words, Miss Caulfield. I'm impressed!"

Max looks at him with wide eyes. "How..?"

The Russian chuckles and stands up, walks towards a painting, presses a button and it shoves aside, revealing a bunch of monitors. "Ms. Caulfield, do you really think I let anyone in my club without knowing who they are? I can't afford such sloppiness in my business. Like you, I want to know who I'm dealing with. Come here, let me show you." he speaks to Max and she walks over to him. Then, the older man points at some persons on the screens. "Here we have the son of the governor of Washington State. Here the Mayor of Seattle. And these two here own a very prestigious art gallery in Seattle. They have a daughter, who should be your age." As he walks to his desk again, the slender man gives him a tablet. "Let's see. Maxine Caulfield, born on September 21st 1995 in Arcadia Bay, Oregon…mh-hm…daughter of Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield…divorced last year…hmm…so, your father's with the DEA, huh? So tell me, why the daughter of a high classes DEA-Agent should visit my club and demand to fight?"

"Because she has to, the rest is none of your fucking business!" she answers shortly.

The boss' fist hits the desk with a loud thud. "It is my fucking business! You come in here, demand to fight and offend me by not answering my simple question. Don't think that I won't hurt you just because you're a little girl!" he yells at her, but calms down instantly. "Again, why…are…you…here?"

Max sighs. 'Time for the truth, Max.' "There is this special person in my life and I have to help her. But I need money. A lot of money. Money with no ties; that can't be tracked. And to fight here is the only way to make enough cash in such a short time."

"So, you're not fighting for yourself, but for a person you have feelings for?" the slender man suddenly asks, making Max blush and nod. The creepy guy bends over and whispers something into his boss' ear, who smiles and nods.

"Okay Maxine, I'll let you fight, but under one condition. You're my fighter; therefor you'll only get 50 percent of the price money, plus 10 percent of the gaining from the bets. Deal?" the gray-haired boss says, reaching the freckled girl his partly tattooed hand.

Max shakes it. "Keep the price money. I'll use it to pay Ricardo's debt. It's my fault that he got into trouble and he's a nice guy."

The Russian nods. "Agreed! You are a very decent person; very rare nowadays. This nice fellow behind me is Dimitri; he'll get you ready for your first fight. Dimitri…"

"C'mon girl." Dimitri says, leading Max to the bookie. "This is my little brother Illja. He's responsible for managing the fights and he's also got some other pretty nice talents. How's it going, Illja?"

"Bite me, Dimi." The bookie says. "Hey girlie, smile!"

"What?" Max says in surprise, making a funny face. Illja takes out a camera and shoots a photo of the black-haired girl and shows it to her. She makes a sour expression. "No fucking way!" The small girl rips the cam out of his hands, poses and makes a selfie. "Here, take this one!"

A few minutes later he hands her a new ID. "Happy birthday, little girl, you're now 21 years old, but don't overdo it with the alcohol! So, what alias would you like to have?"

Max doesn't need to think about it very long, she just takes the first nickname that comes to her mind and has always given her strength in the old days. "Super-Max."

"Sounds kinda lame, but if you want it this way." Illja shrugs.

"Hey, can I place a bet? What's my quota?" the girl asks.

"Sure. You're in with 1:45."

Max hands him over 1,000 dollars. "Here, the whole bunch on me."

"Hmm, you seem to pretty sure of yourself."

"I am!"

Dimitri leads her into a small locker room in the far back of the club. It's almost midnight. As they are passing the door to the dance floor she can see that a lot of people are already leaving. Apparently everything's going to be prepared for the fights this night.

After they enter the small room, the slender man closes the door, and lays his sword on a small bench nearby. "Okay, girlie, I'll explain you now some basics, so listen closely." He says sternly and Max nods. "Once you're in the cage, there're only two ways out; on your feet or on your back. The fight will last until one fighter is KO or dead, doesn't matter which of the two states. There are no rules. You can kick, bite, spit or scream; whatever you prefer. Only one exception, no weapons! Are we clear?"

"Hella clear!" Max answers with a nod.

"Hella?" Dimitri chuckles. "Never heard that one before. I think I'll keep that word in mind." He picks up his sword and turns one last time around, before leaving the room, giving her a wry smile. "Good luck, Maxine!"

"Thanks, Dimitri! And it's Max, never Maxine!"

Then he is gone. Max sits down on a bench and meditates for the next thirty minutes, until some guy tells her that she's the next. As Max enters the dance floor again, it doesn't look very different than before, except that there's no music and no flashing light. The cage in the middle of the room is now completely enlightened and where Go-Go-girls tried to motivate the audience, there're now blood stains and sweat from the previous fight.

The small girl walks through a cheering crowd, approaching the arena with slow steps. Her name is announced and the spotlights are on her. She feels uneasy; her hands start to sweat, because she's not used to stand in the middle of everything. Sometime she has the feeling that the people are laughing at her. Taking a deep draft, she tries to stay calm, focusing on the task at hand. She can already see her opponent, a black-skinned, bulky and very muscular man, talking with someone who seems to be the referee. As soon as she's entered the cage, the referee comes to her and explains the rules again, asking her if she's sure about this. Max just nods. Then the referee leaves and locks the cage. She's trapped, now there's only one way out. The bell rings and the fight starts.

"Hey, baby-girl! You should go home and play with your dolls. This is not the right place for little girls!" The black guy mocks.

Max closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep draft and exhales. 'For you, my love!' She thought and smirks at her opponent, while looking at him from the corner of her eyes. "Bring it on, pussy!"

Calling him a pussy, must've trigger something inside this big man, because he suddenly charges at her. She slows down time, analyzing the situation. The attack is clumsy and predictable, so she decides to make a small side-step, a duck to avoid his fist, and then she slams her fist into his balls. With a high-pitched gasp, the big man goes down on his knees, holding his injured private section. A kick with her military boots to the head sends him to the ground. KO!

The fight didn't last a minute and the whole room's completely silent. No cheering, no clapping, just silence and a lot of stunned faces. With a click the cage door opens again and Max leaves without another word or expression, heading straight back to the locker room. This fight was over and she was 45.000 dollars richer. 'A good start. I just hope that I'm doing the right thing here.'

Chloe

Her head lies on her arms, which are resting on the steering wheel of her truck. Tears are falling down onto her lap as she recalls what happened not thirty minutes ago. 'Can't belief that this shit happened. One moment we were just arguing, the next Max goes all badass on them. And then the shot. Fucking shit, this maniac almost shot her! My stupid rage almost killed her.' A new bunch of tears are dripping down, accompanied by some sobs. A groan from the passenger's seat diverts her attention.

"Ch-Chloe?" Max asks with a weak voice.

A wry smile forms as the bluenette looks at her friend, who started to move and slowly opens her eyes. "Hey, Super-Max! How are you?"

"Ugh, feeling like shit. Where are we?" she says, winding in her seat.

"Uhm…I…I needed to get my head free; y'know, thinking about some things. So, I drove to my small refugee."

Max takes a look out of the window. "A junkyard?"

"Yeah, nobody comes here and I always felt home between all these forgotten and thrown away things." Chloe answers with some melancholy in her voice. "Max, be honest with me. What happened back there?"

The black-haired girl looks at with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean?! You really asking me what I mean?" Chloe says, her voice trembling out of agitation. "Dude, I know that I fucked up by raging again, but out of nowhere you went all berserk on these assholes, before they even noticed what was going on and then…" Her voice fails for a moment and her eyes are welling up again. It takes her some deep drafts to continue. "…and then this bald fucker held a gun to your head and…and…" Her fist hits the stirring wheel. "Goddammit Max, he almost killed you and all I did was standing by, totally petrified and then…I don't know how you did it, but he missed you. This asshole held a gun almost point blank in your face und missed. How is this possible? Did you actually dodge a bullet? And why do you know their boss? And what is with this 'Queen of the cage'-crap?" Chloe takes another moment to calm down, while Max just sits there, staring at dashboard in front of her. "Fuck Max, I know that you don't want to spill all details of your past, but I need to know. I need to know right now or I'll freak!"

It takes Max some time to think, if she's going to tell Chloe or not and as she finally comes to a decision she musters all her strength and sighs. "Alright! I'll tell you. Do you know cage fighting?"

"Like in Fight Club?"

"Not quiet, but close. Except that it is professional and deadly. The Russian mob runs almost the entire scene in the U.S. and Alexei Stukov is the head of the whole organization on the west coast. He was my patron." She gazes into her friend's deep blue eyes. "Believe me, I'm not proud of knowing him, but it was necessary."

"Then why did you do it? I mean, I know you can fight like Bruce Lee, but why cage fighting and not some normal contests?"

Max sighs again. "I needed money and I needed it quick. This was the only way to do it without causing too much attention. Plus, I needed the experience; street rules, no mushiness."

"That still leaves a big why."

Now the smaller girl averts the bluenettes gaze. "I…I did it…for her."

Chloe's eyes are getting wide. "For Sam?"

Max nods. "Yeah." she says plainly. Then she looks at Chloe again, who sees some wetness in her friend's blue eyes. "Chloe, you always wanted to know about Sam and now I'm gonna tell you. Sam…" She sighs. "Sam was my girlfriend at this time. But not in a way you think. We met the first day at my new school in Seattle and for the next six month we became best friends." A wry smile forms on her lips. "I crushed on her so hard and during my first sleepover at her house, I kissed her and she kissed back. It felt like a dream. All my worries, the shit at home, even you, everything was finally forgotten and I felt free." Her smile fades again. "But it was too good to be true. Her family found out about us and they were less than happy that Sam was in love with a girl."

"Homophobes?"

"No, much worse. Anyway, they threatened her to hurt me and Sam did the only thing she could do, she broke all contact with me, changed school and for another six months it stayed this way. Her family – these paranoid bastards – took her under surveillance, 24/7; tried everything to keep her away from me. These six months were the worst of my life. I missed her so much. I became depressed; tried to kill myself. Only my training helped me to find my balance again and gave me the will to be with Sam, no matter what. We started to make contact again via secret messages on social media, encrypted mails and stuff." She scuffs. "Sometimes we even felt like spies." And then becomes serious again. "We met three times a year; once a month in winter, when all people are completely wrapped in a pile of clothes and nobody would recognize me. It worked out for four years, but we both knew that it couldn't stay this way. We wanted to be together; kiss each other; be a normal couple. So, I came up with a plan. Simply put, get a shitload of money and leave the country; disappear completely. And if they would've found us again, I would've been able to kick their asses."

"But your plan didn't work."

"Well, the fighting-part did."

"Explaining the money you gave me and mom, and your stupid nickname." Chloe says and Max nods. "So, what happened to Sam?"

The smaller girl stays silent for a while, until her face grimaces in pain and tears start to flow. "Chloe…please, don't make me remember. It just hurts and…fuck!" Max covers her face with her hands and starts to cry hard. Chloe pulls her into a big hug, petting her back.

"Ssshhhh, it's okay." The bluenette tells her with a calming voice. "Sorry that I made you remember."

The smaller girl shakes her head in her friends embrace. "It's not your fault, Chlo. I don't blame you for this. J-just bring me back to Blackwell, 'kay? I need some rest and time to think."

Both girls part and Chloe gives Max a warm smile. "One drive to Blackwell comes right away!"

The engine comes to life and the blue-haired girl drives her best friend back to Blackwell Academy while she's caught in deep thoughts, glimpsing at Max now and then. 'Damn, something bad must've happened if she's reacting that way. I better don't bother her with more questions for now, but I feel that she's open up to me with every passing day. Maybe she will tell me everything eventually, but not today. But there's something else bothering me. Why is she risking her life for me? Why? I'm not worth it and she needs to see that!'

Max

The whole drive back to Blackwell both girls stayed silent. Max was caught in deep thoughts about her past and about what happened earlier. 'Sometimes it feels like my past catches up with me; like I'm about to face all the consequences of my doing. It's so fucked up. At least I was able to safe Chloe.'

With a last turn the truck drives into the parking lot and as always, Chloe uses two parking spots. She turns of the engine and gazes at Max. "Well, here we are. Should I give you a lift to your dorm?"

The black-haired girl shakes her head. "No, it's fine. I'm already feeling better. Thanks for the ride!" She reaches for the handle on the door and wants to open it, but is stopped by Chloe, who grips her shoulder. Max turns around and looks into her stern face.

"Max, I know that you meant well and stuff, but please, don't risk your life for me ever again! You hear me?"

"Chloe…"

"No, I hella mean it! You have everything; a scholarship, the big chance of becoming a big-ass photographer and a very sweet girlfriend. Don't risk this all for me."

"But you're my best friend."

"I know and I'm really happy about it and I appreciate your help, but…" Chloe sighs. "Max, just promise me, okay?"

After a while Max nods with a big exhale. "Fine! But you have to promise me to stay out of trouble!"

"Done!" the punk-girl answers with a smile. "Now get out of my fucking truck, Caulfield, and get some rest!" she mocks, shoving the smaller girl out of the door.

"Aye aye, captain!" she salutes with a smile, and with a last wave of her hand she heads for the dormitories in a fast pace, a bit insecure in her steps. 'Shit, I'm still pretty busted. I have to hurry or else I'm gonna collapse in public.'

Finally Max arrives at her room. She throws her bag on the couch and needs to hold herself on the next wall. Her head throbs like hell; the dizziness became worse during her walk; it's hard for her to focus. 'I need to lie down and get some sleep or else I won't be able to meet with Kate and Dana to lunch.' She gasps. 'Fuck! I totally forgot that Kate send me a message.'

She gets her phone out of her pocket and as she wants to unlock it the door to her room opens and Kate stands there with a very stern expression, arms crossed, clearly not in a good mood.

"Kate!" Max says, preparing for the worst.