Lead Me Not

chapter twenty-six

aubrey

“why can’t I come with you?” I asked Maxx as I lay naked and tangled up with him in his bed. His fingers stroked up and down my back, making me squirm.

We had been wrapped up in each other for most of the day. It had been almost a week since we were last together, and when I finally saw him again, there was no explanation for his disappearance. There never was.

I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to be upset and sad. But I couldn’t be. Not when he touched me and held me like his life depended on it. Not when my own feelings were jangled and raw from my burst of self-realization.

I loved Maxx Demelo. I felt it deep in my bones.

I was bursting with wanting to tell him. To lay my heart at his feet as easily as he had done. I imagined the way his eyes would light up when I told him. I fantasized about his reaction. He would kiss me, make love to me, worship me with his beautiful words.

But I love you was quickly being swallowed by other things.

Primarily it was the life he led when we were apart, the life I hated as surely as I loved the man who lived it.

The need to protect what little hold I had left on my heart rendered me mute. So the words remained unspoken, even as they tattooed their presence on my heart.

“I won’t be there long. Just a few hours. Why don’t you stay here, just like this? So that when I get home, I can do this,” Maxx replied huskily, rolling me onto my back and fitting himself between my thighs.

I had learned that Maxx used sex as a way of shutting me up. When I questioned him or expressed concern, he’d flop me on my back and fuck me into silence.

And while I couldn’t help but enjoy the methods he used to control the direction of our conversations, it was also frustrating.

So when he pressed the tip of himself between my wet, warm folds, kissing me so that our talk was finished, I resisted.

I pulled my hips back even as my body begged to join with his. I tore my mouth away and turned my head to the side. I pushed against his chest. “I want to go to Compulsion, Maxx. Please, take me with you,” I pleaded.

I’m not sure why I was making a big deal about going to the club with him on Saturday. Except that I was tired of spending my weekends wondering what he was doing while he was there, though I didn’t have to imagine too hard to figure it out.

While he tried really hard to keep the drugs away from me, I knew they were still there. The bitch demanded so much of his time. While he denied his addiction was there at all, it was a constant presence in our relationship. And he gave her, his need for pills, more attention than he gave me.

I was jealous.

I was scared.

Maxx was turning me into a mess of emotions both good and bad. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help him. Here I was, studying to become an addictions counselor, and I couldn’t do anything for the man I had fallen in love with.

Every time I had tried to bring up his drug use, he claimed that there wasn’t a problem, that I needed to stop worrying about him. He didn’t see himself the way I did, as a sad, desperate man who had no idea of the destruction he was unleashing on himself. He thought he had it under control. He thought he was in charge. He thought that he could hide the worst of it from me, that I’d never know.

He was so, so wrong.

I could tell the difference between the Maxx who was high as a kite and the Maxx in the grips of withdrawal, both of which were starting to occur with more frequency and severity, and the Maxx who fell somewhere in between.

The two extremes were quickly becoming the only state he lived in. The in-between Maxx was slipping away. I knew he struggled, he hurt, he craved. And though he didn’t use in front of me, not since that time after we went to see his brother, I knew he still spent the majority of his time high.

I wanted to press him, demand to know the truth, but I was scared to. I knew that if I did, he’d freeze me out, and then I’d never have a chance to help him. So I let myself be quieted, hating that I was allowing it, yet frantic for him all the same. I was letting him use our bodies to make us both forget the truth.

But I was growing weary of my willful ignorance. I was frustrated with the levels of my own denial. I was sick and tired of turning a blind eye even as Maxx shredded us both.

I wanted to go to the club with Maxx.

I had decided that being with him was a hell of a lot better than obsessing about it all alone. All I could think about in those dark hours until I saw him again was whether this would be the time he wouldn’t come home at all. I was afraid that eventually the limits wouldn’t matter and he’d go over the edge.

Maxx let out an irritated breath and sagged his body, resting his forehead on my collarbone. “Why is it such a big deal to you?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “You’ve been there, and I can tell it’s not your scene.”

I pushed out from under him and rolled onto my side. I folded my hands beneath my cheek and regarded him steadily. “Because I want to be with you. I hate waiting around for you to come home, wondering what you’re doing,” I explained.

Maxx folded his arm under his head and looked up at me, lines forming between his eyebrows. “You know what I do there, Aubrey,” he said softly. Yes. I knew what he did at Compulsion. He made money selling drugs to the miserable and hopeless. How could I ever accept this part of him?

“You don’t want to see that,” he finished, running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip.

I kissed his finger before saying, “But I want to be with you.”

“How can I ever say no to you?” he asked me, smiling. My stomach knotted up at his statement.

Because it was a lie.

I didn’t have the power to make him stop using drugs. He’d deny me if I asked him to never sell drugs again. I knew what his response would be if I insisted he stay away from Compulsion and all the temptations it held for him.

As much as Maxx wanted me, as much as he loved me, my influence went only so far. And he was still saying no to me each and every day.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at nine. I have some stuff to do before then,” Maxx said, wrapping an arm around my waist and dragging me across the bed. “Now can we get back to this?” he asked, picking up my leg and hooking it up and over his hip. He dipped his hand between our bodies.

“Yes,” I breathed out, followed by a guttural groan as Maxx pushed two fingers inside me. He moved his hand, his mouth conquering mine, and once again I let myself forget.

“So I’m finally going to meet the mystery man?” Renee asked on Saturday evening. I was getting dressed to go to the club with Maxx. I was a bundle of nerves. This was a big step for us. He was taking me into his world, by his side, where it would be obvious who we were to each other.

We had gone through the early days of our relationship within the walls of his apartment. We had a connection built in secret. Aside from the day we went sledding, we had spent very little time in public. We had been out to dinner a few times, a movie twice. But the majority of our time was spent in the safety of his home.

This was taking our relationship out into the open. This was announcing to everyone that he was mine. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Because I knew who I’d be walking into the club with. It wasn’t my Maxx. It was the Maxx who belonged to everybody else.

I was forcing two worlds to smash into each other.

I was nervous and fitful about the possibilities this night would bring. While Renee was happy to finally meet the guy who had twisted me up inside, I wished my feelings could be that simple.

“I suppose,” I answered, pulling a short red dress over my head. I was borrowing my outfit from Renee, who had insisted. And it was short, as in barely-covering-my-ass short. I felt way too much air where I shouldn’t be feeling it.

“Well, you look amazing. What are you guys doing tonight?” she asked, but before I could answer, her phone vibrated in her hand. Without bothering to look at the screen she turned it off.

“Was that Devon again?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Renee said, giving me one of her all-too-common forced smiles.

“Still being his charming self?” I couldn’t help asking. Renee gave me a look but then snorted.

“Of course,” she replied, walking over to my jewelry box and digging through it. I wisely let the subject drop. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it, and I was freaking out too badly to dig for more than she was willing to give.

“I knew you still had these!” she accused good-naturedly as she held up a pair of dangly earrings with huge sparkly stones at the bottom.

“I am not wearing those,” I told her. I remembered all too well how Renee got when she wanted to play makeover. When we first became friends she had made it her mission to revamp my wardrobe, getting a lot of joy out of introducing me to stilettos and earrings the size of melons.

I hadn’t been subjected to her ministrations in quite some time, but it was easy to recall how much I hated them.

“Oh yes you are. And . . .” She trailed off, going through my shoes and coming up with a matching pair of black strappy things with heels as tall as skyscrapers.

“I’ll break my neck!” I complained, but Renee put them down in front of me, and I oh so carefully slipped them on.

I tried standing up in the four-inch heels Renee was insisting I wear. I stuck one foot out and examined the modern torture device attached to my foot.

“Really, Renee? Why not put spikes on the bottom of my feet? These bitches are gonna kill my toes! I’m going to need to amputate a few by the end of the night,” I groaned, hating the way the shoes pinched my skin.

Renee rolled her eyes and laughed at my pained expression. “You always did make dressing up a chore. Just trust me. Your man will be drooling at your feet,” she said, smiling at my reflection in the mirror. I met her eyes, and there was a moment when I thought things would be okay.

And then I heard a knock at the door. “Mystery man arrives!” Renee announced, arching her eyebrow.

I ran the brush through my long hair one more time and gave myself a perfunctory once-over. I looked good. Really good. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to dress up and enjoy it. I just hoped Maxx liked it.

“Can I get it?” Renee asked.

I nodded, hanging back so she could answer the door. When she did, it revealed a Maxx I had only ever seen in one place . . . Compulsion. This was the man who had first captivated me.

He oozed sexuality and confidence. He wore distressed jeans that hung low on his narrow hips, a tight-fitting blue Henley the color of his eyes, and worn brown Doc Martens. His blond curls were in haphazard disarray and hung down into his hooded eyes. His full lips curved upward in a lazy, sure smile, and his thumbs were tucked into his belt loops.

Maxx was the man your mother warned you about. He was sex and danger and secrets. He was the very worst kind of temptation and the very best kind of distraction.

And even though the sight of him set my hormones on fire, there was something in his eyes that concerned me, something slightly predatory and violent. He scared me. He pulled me in. I felt like running. I felt like giving him everything.

I had come undone.

“I’m Renee,” my roommate said, holding out her hand as she watched him closely. Maxx pushed off from the wall and took her offered hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Renee. I’m Maxx Demelo.” He covered their joined hands with his other palm, a touch that was meant to alleviate all worry. He looked over at me, and his eyes widened a fraction, the first genuine expression I had seen on his face since Renee had opened the door.

I had surprised him, and maybe unnerved him a bit. It was a heady and powerful feeling.

“I’m Aubrey’s boyfriend,” he finished his introduction, his lips lingering over the word boyfriend. As if that word could ever adequately describe who he was to me.

Obsession. Fixation. Owner of my heart and soul. Those were more appropriate descriptions.

Renee looked over her shoulder as I came closer. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were concerned.

Maxx released Renee’s hand and turned to me. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling. And just like that, he was my Maxx again. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He tasted like cigarettes and peppermint.

“Thanks,” I said, smoothing down the tight skirt of my dress. I wasn’t entirely comfortable in my clothing, but the heated look in Maxx’s eyes made me glad I was wearing it.

Maxx, obviously not bothered by our audience, grabbed the back of my neck and smashed his mouth down over mine. His tongue plunged between my lips as he kissed me senseless. He emitted a growl deep in his throat, and all I could taste, all I could feel, was Maxx.

“Ahem.” Renee cleared her throat from behind us, and I yanked myself away from Maxx’s restrictive hands.

“I guess we should get going,” I said, my voice sounding shaky. Renee looked from me to Maxx, and I knew she was seeing something she wasn’t happy with, but she plastered a smile on her face all the same.

How many times had I done the same thing when she had left with Devon? How the tables had turned.

Maxx is nothing like Devon. He would never hurt me, I told myself, hoping I’d believe it. And it was true. Devon was a bully. He took satisfaction in hurting others. Maxx was nothing like that.

The pain he caused was unintentional and most often self-inflicted.

But did that make it any better?

“I’ll be home sometime tomorrow,” I told Renee, who only nodded.

Maxx kissed my temple, nuzzling my hair. “Don’t count on being anywhere but in my bed tomorrow,” he whispered, goose bumps breaking out across my skin.

I let my boyfriend lead me out to his car. He held open the passenger-side door for me to get in. It was funny how something as simple as holding the door open for me melted my heart. It made it easier to overlook the things that left me cold inside.

“So I guess we don’t have to go find the painting, huh?” I asked as Maxx pulled out into traffic.

Maxx smirked, as if laughing at his own private joke. “I know where I’m going.”

“Do you know who X is, then?” I asked. It was a mystery I could admit I’d like to figure out. I had definitely become a fan.

“Yeah,” Maxx answered shortly, not giving me any more information.

“Well, who is it?” I prodded.

“What do you think of his stuff?” he asked me, changing the subject.

“It’s . . . strange and beautiful and dark and crazy. I’ve heard that a bunch of galleries are interested in his art. Is that true?”

Maxx smiled. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“So why doesn’t he sell some of it? He’d make a killing!”

Maxx stared straight ahead at the road. “Because his art isn’t about money! It’s about more than that. He doesn’t want to taint it with a desire to earn some quick cash. It’s probably one of the few pure things he has left in his life.”

Maxx was talking knowledgeably about the artist, speaking as though he understood, on an intimate level, what motivated the unidentified painter. Suspicion started to blossom inside me.

“And how do you know all that? You seem to know this X really well,” I said carefully.

Maxx’s jaw tensed, and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “I don’t know him at all,” he barked.

Okay then. Clearly X was a sensitive subject. But his gruff dismissal had sparked a hunch I couldn’t ignore.

“So where are we headed?” I asked when the silence became uncomfortable.

“A warehouse down in the city. Pretty close to one we’ve used before. It’s a good location,” Maxx said after a beat.

“How do you find the spots for the club?” I asked, posing the question I had wondered about since first going to Compulsion. The spots were picked with care and consideration.

Maxx’s smile returned. “I look for places out of the way that can hold a lot of people, where we can run a few transformers off the local grid. Most important is that it be as far away from the police as possible.”

“That makes sense,” I replied.

I tried to think of other things to ask him, since he appeared to be in a full-disclosure kind of mood, but my mind went blank. Maxx wasn’t in a hurry to fill the silence, so I let it go and tried not to feel tense in the quiet.

Once we got to the club, it was already heaving. The line to the front door wrapped around the block. But this time I didn’t have to wait my turn like the rest of them.

Maxx took my hand and led me to a door around the back of the building. Before going inside, Maxx turned to me and became serious. He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. “Don’t talk to anyone. Not unless I’m with you,” he warned.

I smirked. “I have been here before, you know,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. Maxx’s transformation had already occurred, and I felt immediately apprehensive.

Maxx narrowed his eyes at me as he pulled a baseball cap out of his back pocket and fitted it on his head. “Yeah, and you were almost trampled to death and had your drink spiked. And let’s not forget you ended up with a guy like me. I think that says a lot about your judgment.” His words came out like an accusation.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the back door. It was pitch-black. I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. The thumping bass filled the space, vibrating my bones and buzzing in my head. Maxx gave my hand a small yank, and I stumbled forward, catching myself on the wall as I collided with his back.

“You okay?” he yelled into my ear. I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. And then I was being pulled farther into the building. We headed down a dark hallway, and I could see the familiar throbbing red lights ahead. The hallway led into a cavernous space, very similar to what I remembered from that first night when I had come to find Renee.

It was sweltering. Sweat was already beading along the back of my neck, and I had to lift my hair to get some relief. Maxx’s hold on my hand was bone-crushingly tight as he navigated us through the crowd.

His shoulders were rigid and his chin thrust forward. His narrowed eyes flicked through the mass of people. He was assessing, taking note. If it weren’t for his fingers gripping me, I would have thought he’d forgotten I was there.

People reached out to grab him as we passed. “X! You’re here!” a man said, walking into our path. He had called Maxx X. My hunch had just been confirmed. The artist and my boyfriend were one and the same. I thought back to the paintings—the woman who had appeared in every single one since I had met him, the girl with the long blond hair who always seemed to be walking toward her doom.

I shivered in spite of the heat.

Maxx’s shoulders stiffened, and he shoved the guy out of his way and kept walking. I was shocked by his sudden display of aggression but allowed him to pull me along.

Girls tried to get his attention with their skin. Guys tried to talk to him, pleading for a moment of his time. They all wanted him. And I could tell he loved it.

He had changed, and he was most certainly no longer my Maxx. He was that other Maxx.

He was X.

No one spared me a look. Their focus, their desire, was entirely for him.

As we made our way through the crowd, Maxx’s hand wrapped tightly around mine, my front pressed into his back, I thought I saw a familiar pair of faces. I peered into the shadows, the red light obscuring my vision.

I thought I had seen Evan and April. God, I hoped I was wrong. I pulled back from Maxx a bit, trying to get a better look.

Maxx stopped walking, turning back to see why I had stopped. I pointed toward the far wall.

“I think I saw Evan and April,” I yelled over the din. Maxx shook his head, grabbed my chin, and tilted my head back.

“Stop worrying, baby,” he said against my lips just before he kissed me hard enough to leave me rattled. Pulling away, he gave me his characteristic cocky grin and started to push through the people again.

He headed straight for the bar, not responding to anyone who attempted to speak to him. He motioned for the bartender to attend to us. The man came over, acknowledging Maxx with a nod of his head. He had a multicolored Mohawk and the customary piercings in his nose and lip.

“Eric, this is Aubrey. She’s my girl. Make sure she gets whatever she wants,” he commanded.

“Sure thing, dude,” Eric said, smiling in a way that was almost attractive. He turned his attention to me.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh, just a beer, thanks,” I said, yelling to be heard over the music. After getting my drink, I cradled it close to my chest, causing Maxx to smirk.

“I see you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, motioning to the drink I had tucked close to me.

“Fool me once,” I replied, raising my drink and saluting him with it.

He leaned in close so that his lips touched my ear. “No one will mess with you as long as you’re with me. They know better. And if they don’t, I’ll make sure they do.”

His words were hard and cold, and I had no doubt he meant them. I pulled away from him slightly, putting the bottle to my mouth and taking a drink. His mood was edgy, and it was contagious. I felt restless and disquieted.

Maxx had one arm wrapped tightly around my middle, his other hand jammed in his pocket. He watched the crowd closely. He rocked a bit to the beat, but I held myself rigid beside him.

“Why did that guy call you X?” I asked him, practically yelling in his ear. Maxx’s lazy smirk slipped a bit at my question. Even though he continued to hold me close, I felt him distancing himself.

“It’s my name,” he replied shortly.

“No, X is the person who paints those pictures. The person I was asking you about earlier,” I remarked, my accusation clear. He had been dishonest . . . again.

Maxx shrugged, still not looking at me, still moving in time with the beat. “So what? I paint some pictures on fucking buildings. What’s the big deal?” he asked, his words clipped and angry.

What was the big deal? Was he serious?

Those pictures had been my first link to him. They had drawn me in with their raw beauty. And now that I was connecting the man I loved to the mysterious figure who had painted them, I was both furious and exhilarated.

Because I had seen something in those paintings that gave me hope that deep down Maxx believed he could be something more.

But he hadn’t been truthful. When I had given him the opportunity to come clean, he had evaded and withdrawn.

We were running around in a circle, constantly repeating the same tragic mistakes over and over again.

“You lied to me!” I shouted, feeling my anger flare up at his casual dismissal.

Maxx’s arm dropped from around my waist. He twisted me so that I was pressed against his chest. He grabbed my chin and held it firmly between his fingers.

“I did not lie to you! I omitted a truth. That is not the same thing,” he reasoned, his eyes hidden beneath the bill of his cap.

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his statement. But I didn’t. Because I could tell he believed his words wholeheartedly. In his mind, eliminating a few key facts was not the same thing as being deceitful. I knew instantly that this was the only way he was able to justify his actions and his continued dishonesty, his omission of truths from Landon and from me.

It was how he was able to look in the mirror and not hate himself. It was how he was able to so readily put on the mask and play the part of X.

For the first time, I saw just how totally he separated himself, why he purposefully kept his lives apart.

It made me sad. It made me heartsick for him.

And God help me, it made me love him more.

I opened my mouth to say the words I had been denying him. Here in this crazy, messed-up world, I wanted to tell him that I loved him and that I accepted all of his truths, whatever they were.

Before I could utter a syllable, a girl came up and leaned into Maxx on his other side. She either didn’t realize or didn’t care that his arm was around me. She lifted her hand and ran a finger down the side of his neck. He jerked away from her touch.

“Don’t,” he warned. She was either stupid or irrationally horny, because she didn’t listen. Before I knew what was happening, she had pushed her pelvis up against Maxx’s hip and started to rock against him, pressing her breasts into his arm. I could only stand there, gaping in shock at her forwardness.

“I know you’ve got it. I’ll give you whatever you want,” she shouted over the music. Was this chick for real? And was this how my boyfriend, the man I had been about to confess my feelings to, conducted his “business”?

Maxx shrugged her off, and she stumbled a bit before looking at me. She grimaced and had the decency to look embarrassed by her behavior.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here with someone. I just thought . . . ,” she began, and Maxx glared at her, shutting her up.

“You thought wrong. Now get out of here!” he told her firmly. The girl suddenly looked meek, and I sort of felt sorry for her. She was pretty, wearing clothes that weren’t cheap, and I found myself wondering what brought her here, and why she wanted what she thought only Maxx could give her. All of these people were the same. They were running from something. Including Maxx.

Including me.

The girl scampered off, and I looked up at Maxx, whose eyes were now trained on the people around him. Had my boyfriend traded drugs for sexual favors? I thought I was going to be sick. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Would he have gone off with her? Would he have given her drugs if she spread her legs for him?

I tried to pull away from Maxx, revolted by the thought. How quickly my feelings had changed. Only moments before I had been full of an all-consuming love for this man. Now I wanted to get away from him as fast as I could.

He squeezed me tightly against him, not letting me move. “It’s not what it looked like, Aubrey,” he said, tucking his head down into the crook of my neck.

I struggled against him, knowing he’d use his hands to subdue me, to make me compliant. Damn him, not this time!

Maxx took my shoulders in his hands and pulled me to face him again.

“I don’t do that shit. Not anymore. And definitely not since you,” he swore, his eyes pleading.

“But you used to. You gave girls drugs if they what? Sucked you off? Had sex with you?” I accused, curling my lip up in disgust.

Maxx shook his head. “Don’t judge me for the person I was before you came into my life! I did ugly things that I hate myself for! I would never do that again. I would never do that to you.” His thumbs brushed the length of my jaw, his fingers curling into my hair as he held me firm.

“I love you, Aubrey! I will never touch another woman. I will never look at another woman. There will never be anyone in my life but you. I won’t cheat. I won’t play you false. You are it for me. Forever,” he swore, looking down into my face.

I gulped, my mouth dry.

“But you’re still selling and doing drugs, Maxx. How can you say you love me when you try to hide it from me? I’m not stupid. I know how often you take those pills. I know why you disappear and won’t answer your phone. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen what you do. How can you say you love me when you won’t give that up? You won’t give this up?” I demanded, trying not to wince as Maxx’s fingers dug into my skin.

His eyes flashed at my accusations. He didn’t deny anything. He stood there, the press of bodies all around us, not moving as he stared into my eyes. I saw a conflict on his face. I saw the two sides of him fighting for dominance. And I knew without a doubt that this lost and deeply troubled man loved me. But did he love me enough?

He dropped his hands and looked away from me. My heart broke. It shattered. It fell into a million tiny pieces at my feet. I had my answer.

“I’m not doing this here, Aubrey!” he hissed.

“Well, it’s not like we’ll do it any other time,” I bit back.

“You wonder why I don’t talk to you about everything going on in my life? You ask me why I keep things from you?” He whirled around to face me again, and I saw that he was angry. This was a man so deep in his denial that he couldn’t see the destruction all around him. He couldn’t see that this world was stealing his soul.

“Because you stand there on your fucking soapbox without a goddamned clue as to what it’s like to be me. It’s so easy to judge, isn’t it, Aubrey,” he spit out hatefully.

“I’m not judging you!” I argued, but he didn’t hear me.

Maxx grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back up against the bar. “I’ve got shit to do. You need to stay here. Don’t move!” he commanded, his eyes making it clear that he expected me to listen.

I had never seen him so angry, not toward me, anyway. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything.

Without another look in my direction, Maxx disappeared into the crowd. Eric the bartender was at my elbow the moment I was alone.

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked me. I looked down at my empty bottle and nodded.

So I drank another beer. Then another. Then another. And then I thought, to hell with Maxx and his demands. I pushed myself off the bar and headed straight for the dance floor.

I was mildly drunk and feeling a nice numbness. The dull pain in my chest from Maxx’s earlier behavior had faded a bit, and all I wanted to do was dance and forget.

I found myself a pocket between dancers to station myself. The music was fast, and I started to bob around on my feet. I rocked my head back and forth, my short skirt riding up my thighs. I was probably in danger of showing the world my ass, but I didn’t particularly care.

My feet were starting to ache from the heels, so I kicked them off, my bare feet making contact with the filthy floor. I didn’t think about what I could be standing in. Here, I didn’t care. I felt myself let go, just like the last time I was here. And it was liberating.

The pleasurable release lasted for a few more songs. I danced with complete strangers, not pulling away when they touched me. I belonged in this amazing communal experience. Someone handed me a flickering glow stick, and I stuck it into the bodice of my dress as I continued to dance.

I was slick with sweat, my bare feet dirty and aching, my head fuzzy from the alcohol, and I was feeling pretty damned great.

Until I opened my eyes while I danced and saw Maxx, my boyfriend, up against the far wall, two girls standing in front of him with their boobs out on full display.

I didn’t know what they were saying. I could tell by Maxx’s body language that he wasn’t looking in the direction they hoped he would. Their blatant efforts at trashy seduction would have been bad enough. But it was the sight of the money leaving their hands and tucking into Maxx’s outstretched palm that gave me pause.

He pulled a baggie out of his pocket and tossed it toward one of the girls. She opened it up and poked her finger inside, pulling out what I only imagined was a pill of some sort. She handed one to her friend before slipping another under her tongue. Then she gave one to Maxx. He held it in his palm, not moving. Slowly, his head came up, and I saw him scouring the crowd. He was searching. Looking.

For me.

I ducked behind the people dancing closest to me, not wanting to be spotted.

After a heartbeat, Maxx lifted his hand and dropped the drug into his mouth.

I couldn’t help but stare as he pulled out another baggie and shook several more pills into his waiting hand. They followed the first onto his tongue. Without another look at the boob twins, he turned away and walked back through the club.

X was in his domain.

This wasn’t the first time I had seen him do this. So why was it hitting me like a ton of bricks this time?

It was because now I loved him. And that made the reality of what he was doing even harder to swallow.

But wasn’t it being the worst kind of hypocrite to get into a relationship with him, knowing exactly who and what he was, and now to be disgusted by it? How could I expect him to change in such a short period of time? It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair to me. It wasn’t fair to the relationship that we had only just started to build.

Yet as I stared after him, the sight of him selling pills to those girls who grabbed at them greedily, willing to do just about anything for them, I couldn’t see anything but the memory I had never wanted to think about again.

I had exactly thirty minutes to get home and changed before meeting a few friends at the diner downtown. I had a paper to write that night and was already outlining it in my head.

I had stopped to talk to a few people in my English class, waiting for the mad rush out of the parking lot to die down before I headed to my car.

Finally it was clear, and I walked out of the school by way of the side entrance that led past the football field. It was a bright, sunny day, so I slid my sunglasses down over my eyes.

I hurried underneath the bleachers, which served as a shortcut to the parking lot.

I heard a coughing, then a laugh I recognized all too well.

I veered back the way I came, curving around until I was approaching a pocket of bleachers tucked into the side of the building. It was dark back there, and it was a place the stoner kids liked to congregate between classes. You could smoke a joint or snort a line without getting busted. You would think the teachers would have gotten wind of the druggie hidey-hole by now, but it remained a safe place to engage in all kinds of nefarious behavior.

“I want another,” I heard my baby sister demand, followed by the throaty chuckle of a guy who was clearly very pleased with himself.

“You know what I want first, Jay.”

I peeked my head around a steel beam to see a small group of kids seated on the ground beneath the bleachers. A few were smoking cigarettes. One guy had a pipe and a lighter. A girl looked passed-out beside him, her head in his lap.

But that’s not what caught my attention. Blake, my sister’s loser boyfriend, dangled a baggie in front of Jayme. She laughed and tried to grab it from him. He pulled it just out of reach, making it a game.

For a second they looked like any other couple goofing around. How I wished that was all they were. But watching them, I knew a lot more was going on.

“I’m not doing that here. In front of everybody,” Jayme said, casting a nervous look at her friends.

She was such a pretty girl, finally growing into her body. Her acne had begun to clear up, and she had lost a lot of the baby fat that had clung to her frame until recently, much to the detriment of her self-esteem.

“I don’t care, Jay-Jay. You know what you have to do if you want any more. You’re a greedy girl,” Blake taunted, and there was something in his tone that made my skin crawl. I hated that guy. I hated how he treated Jayme. I hated how she defended him even when it was obvious what a jerk he was. Most of all, I hated that he was introducing my naïve sister to a world she should never have to know, one that I didn’t know at the time would ultimately kill her.

Blake unbuckled his belt and pointed at his crotch. “No one sucks my dick like you do, baby,” he crooned, as if that should be a compliment. No way would Jayme fall for that sleazy line of bullshit. I could tell she was uncomfortable.

So it was with complete and total shock that I saw her drop to her knees in front of him, her dress filthy from the dirt she took no notice of. She tilted her head up and opened her mouth. Blake laughed, knowing he was getting his way. He opened the bag and dropped two pills onto Jayme’s tongue.

Then her hands were on his zipper, pulling it down, and Blake’s hand went around to the back of her head, pushing her forward.

I looked away then, feeling sick. I stumbled away from the scene without intervening. I hadn’t done a thing to stop my sister’s degradation. I had walked away, wanting to forget I had seen anything at all.

And I never spoke to Jayme about it. I never offered any sisterly advice, explaining that no guy would ever respect her if she didn’t have any respect for herself. I should have said those things to her.

But I never thought to until it was too late to say anything at all.

I left the disturbing scene behind me and hurried home, taking a shower and going out with my friends, trying to pretend I hadn’t seen my sister barter a blow job for drugs from her shithead boyfriend.

And I spent years trying to forget that I had done nothing when it had mattered most.

Looking at Maxx, I could only see Jayme and Blake and the sick, twisted joy on both of their faces as they got exactly what they wanted in the worst way possible.

I felt a flash of hatred so strong it took my breath away. It was at war with the love I felt just as strongly for the fucked-up man making a living by selling the shit that had killed my sister.

How could I love someone like that? How could I have become so enamored that I overlooked the fact that he stood for everything I should run far, far away from?

It was too much.

I couldn’t handle it.

I pulled my phone out and called a cab.

Without a word to Maxx, I left.

I didn’t want to see him. He terrified and disgusted me in equal measure.

Yet I loved him deeply all the same. And the love won out. My heart betrayed me again.

I told the cabdriver to take me back to Maxx’s apartment.

I was such an idiot.

Feelings sucked.