I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. I look up and his eyes are on mine, and there’s pain in their depths, like there’s so much he wants to say but can’t. The look is gone quickly, covered with that same anger.

“Good.”

“If you regret me, why not just say it?” I say, my voice shaky. “Don’t treat me like this.”

“Never fuckin’ said that.”

“You don’t need to!” I cry.

He glares at me. “You’re . . . You’re not . . .”

“Oh my God.” I laugh brokenly. “Don’t, please. I get it, all right? I’m not what you thought. I’m an innocent little girl, not good enough for the mighty Maddox.”

His jaw tightens, as if he wants to reply . . . but he doesn’t.

“You piece of shit!” I rasp.

I turn and rush out, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t follow me.

~*~*~*~

I don’t see Maddox for three long days. He doesn’t try to contact me or make any attempt to rectify the situation. To add to that, Mack is being cagey too. Like he knows something I don’t. I told him what happened, and he replied with, “Maddox is a prick,” before making a hasty retreat.

Something is going down. It's been welling inside me, eating away until I can’t take it anymore.

Maddox is not going to do what he did, and then hide from it because he regrets it. He’s going to face me, tell me it’s done, and then stay the fuck out of my life when I move on. He can’t barge in and interfere with my dating life, then turn me down like a spoiled child.

It’s taken me days to find the right time to sneak past Mack. I’m going to Maddox’s house, whether he likes it or not. I’ve only been at the club when he isn’t there, and he’s made sure of that. He’s avoiding me, and he’s not going to do it any longer.

I can’t crawl out my window, because they barred it after my last attempt. I can only sneak out when Mack is asleep. But he barely sleeps—the past two nights he’s spent fucking some random chicks, and I can’t get out because he’s been doing that on the frigging couch. Tonight, though, he came home alone. We shared a few empty words over dinner, and then I said I was tired and went to bed.

Four hours later, he did the same.

I wait for another half an hour before sneaking out of the house. It’s easy enough to do, with me disappearing through the back door. I know there are boys out the front. I’m dressed in jeans, a sweater and sneakers. It’s not cold out, but it’s certainly not warm either. Besides, I need the sneakers to get over the fence.

It takes me half an hour to get out onto the street without making any noise. I catch a cab and order it to Maddox’s house. I breathe a sigh of relief when we’re on the road, feeling relieved that I made it out safely. What I didn’t consider in my plan, is that someone could be watching from somewhere down the street.

I made a huge mistake.

A massive, massive mistake.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

2008 – Santana

A scream is wrenched from my throat as another tremor takes over. I need drugs. I need them now. I’ve clawed at my own skin to the point where my hands had to be restrained. Dried blood coats my arms and legs, and even parts of my face. Vomit has become my best friend, and I’m sweating enough to swim in it.

Everything hurts. From the top of my head to my toes, everything inside my poor, broken body burns. It feels as if I’ve been lit on fire, doused, then lit once more. I can’t escape the pain; I can’t escape the desperation. I’m trapped, locked in my own personal hell. Nothing can take away my agony, and Maddox won’t let anyone near me.

He’s been the only person I’ve seen for the past three days.

And each time I lay my eyes on him, I want to rip his skin apart just to get out of here. I’ve tried, at least ten times. He’s too strong, though. He’s attempted to get me out to eat, drink and use the bathroom, but his attempts have been futile. I’ve pissed myself more times than I can count so now I lay here, drenched in my own urine, crying out for him.

He won’t come.

He knows as well as I do that if I don’t come down from this, I’ll die, and he’s making sure that doesn’t happen.

~*~*~*~

2008 - Maddox

Her body thrashes and her screams fill the room. I’ve never seen someone come down so hard before. She’s struggling, and her tiny body will go into shock soon if she doesn’t start coping. She’s begged me so many times to just give her something, and fuck, it’s been hard to say no.

She’s suffering, and I can do nothing but watch her.

“You need to tell her,” Mack says, coming up behind me.

“Look at her, Mack. She’s fucked. Her life has been flushed down the toilet. If she knows what happened to her sister, she’ll fuckin’ die trying to find her. She can’t handle that.”

“Ain’t your choice to make.”

“Look. At. Her.”

Mack turns his eyes to the girl strapped to the bed, her arms caked in dried blood, her hair a ratty mess, and her clothes soaked with her own urine. She can’t know what happened to her sister—she’ll set off into the world and be killed or captured before she even leaves the city. She’s got no chance.

“She needs time, and right now I’ve got nothin’ to give her. I don’t know where her sister was sent, and until I do, her knowing is only going to do severe damage to her recovery.”