JOSH
The great thingabout having a morally questionable best friend was that they didn’t question you when you did morally questionable things.
Alex didn’t ask why I wanted to track Max down; he just did it. It took him less than an hour because, according to him, Max left a trail of digital crumbs so obvious a blind Luddite could’ve followed it.
When we found him hoovering drinks at a dive bar like an alcoholic Dyson, Max was already three sheets to the wind, and it took only the promise of more booze, drugs, and girls to lure him with us.
I let Alex do the talking and took a separate car in case Max recognized me, but he was so drunk he didn’t notice anything was wrong until we entered a silent, secluded house on the city’s outskirts.
By then, it was too late.
“He must’ve really pissed you off.” Alex examined Max’s bound form the way a scientist would examine a particularly interesting specimen beneath a microscope. “This isn’t your usual style.”
I flexed my hands into fists.
Max sat tied to a chair in the middle of the basement, his mouth duct-taped shut and his body twisting in a futile struggle against his ties. His alcohol-induced haze had cleared, and I saw the stark reality of his situation reflected in his eyes.
Good.
I wanted him to feel every second of this.
“My usual style isn’t working for me.” The rage I’d suppressed during my work shift roared back, drowning out any reservations I might’ve had.
I was a doctor, not a fighter. I’d pledged to do no harm. But the Josh that made that pledge was different than the one in this room. Even memories of him were hazy, buried beneath the weight of the past week’s events.
I walked over to Max and ripped the tape off his mouth. I wasn’t worried about anyone hearing us. The house was Alex’s secret city hideaway, the place where he went when he needed to be alone but didn’t have time for a longer trip, and it was soundproofed and secured enough to make The Pentagon weep with envy.
“You recognize me.” It wasn’t a question.
Max’s awareness of my identity was obvious in the pinch of his mouth and the burning flame of panicked resentment in his eyes.
“Jules told me what you did. Ohio, the painting, the blackmail, everything.” I bent until we were at eye level. “You should’ve skipped town when you had the chance. Staying here was a stupid move. Pushing Jules down the stairs was even stupider.”
I saw Alex arch an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye. Otherwise, he didn’t react to the new information or mention of Jules.
“She deserved it.” Max didn’t deny my accusation like I’d expected. He must’ve known it wouldn’t do him any good. “The people who wanted the painting are pissed I lost it. They’re out for blood.” A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. “She fucked me over and thought she could walk away with no consequences. After everything I did for her when we were young. She had no job, no home, and I took her in. You think I want to stay in this fucking city? I can’t go back to Ohio, not without the painting. She deserved it!”
His voice rose with each word until spittle frothed at his mouth. His sour, whiskey-tinted breath clouded the air between us and made my stomach twist with disgust.
“That sounds like a personal problem. You get in bed with the wrong people, you pay the consequences. The only thing I care about…” I gripped his shoulder and dug my fingers into the pressure points until he squeaked with pain. “...is the fact you hurt her. That was a big mistake, Max.”
“Surprised you’re still taking her side after what she did,” Max panted. Malice mingled with the resentment in his eyes. “She hurt more than she helped by returning that painting to you. My friends will be coming for you next, and they’re not as nice as I am.”
I wasn’t a fucking idiot. I’d already took steps to mitigate that possibility, but Max didn’t need to know that.
“I wasn’t going to kill her. I just wanted to give her a scare. Rough her up a little, scare her into helping me again.” Max’s eyes darted around the room, searching for help that didn’t exist. “It’s not fair that she keeps getting away with what she did. I went to jail for something we both did while she went to a fancy school and made fancy friends. It’s not fair. She owes me!”
He sounded like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum.
“She only got into that life because of you.” I clamped down harder on his shoulder. “Don’t act like you’re an innocent martyr.”
“So protective of her even after she lied and stole from you.” Max’s lip curled, his desire for a cheap shot outweighing any sense of self-preservation. “What is it? Is it the pussy? I remember it was pretty good, especially her first time when she bled all over my cock. There’s nothing like breaking in a virgin. But it’s probably worn out—”
His sentence cut off with a choked cry when I slammed my fist into his face.
Fury darkened the edges of my vision. The world narrowed until the only thing I could focus on was my fierce, all-consuming need to cause the man in front of me as much pain as possible.
But I wanted this to be a fair fight. That way, I could let loose without any guilt.
I held out a hand. Alex slid a knife into my open palm, and I slashed the ropes binding Max.
He lurched out of his chair, but he didn’t make it two steps before I hauled him back by his collar and punched him again.
The satisfying crunch of bone ripped through the air, followed by a howl of pain.
Max clutched his broken nose with one hand and swung at me with the other. I dodged his clumsy attempt with little effort, and I heard another crunch when my fist connected with his jaw.
My blood sang with exhilaration as the storm inside me finally found its release. Every punch, every spray of blood on my face loosened an inch of pressure in my chest.
The air crackled with unleashed violence, and soon, the snap of bone gave way to the wet sound of bloodied flesh.
Sweat and blood blurred my vision, but I kept going, fueled by mental images of Jules’s injuries and Max’s earlier taunts.
I didn’t want to do it. He was blackmailing me…
They pushed me when I tried to get away…
Is it the pussy? I remember it was pretty good, especially her first time when she bled all over my cock.
A fresh wave of rage swept through me, and I punched Max hard enough that he collapsed onto the ground. His hands scrabbled against the floor as he tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere for him to escape.
“Please.” He gasped out a wet, gurgling plea. “Stop. Please…”
I barely heard him.
It wasn’t just Jules. It was Michael and Alex and every patient I lost in the ER. Every bottled-up hurt, disappointment, and frustration from the past few years. I unleashed it all on Max until his pleas died off and his body turned limp.
My heart thundered with adrenaline. I should’ve done this sooner. This was the outlet I needed.
I hauled my arm back for another blow, but firm hands closed around my biceps and pulled me back.
“Josh.” Alex’s voice splashed a cold bucket of water on the flames consuming me. “That’s enough.”
“Get off me,” I bit out. I strained against his hold, desperate for another fix. For more relief. “I’m not done.”