Taking a seat in the clawfoot chair on the opposite side of the bed, I fantasized about how I would destroy whoever had their hands in assaulting her. Did I want to do it quickly? No, maybe I’d draw it out, inflicting as much pain as possible until they begged me to end their lives and save them from the agony.
A whimper came from the bed as the sleeping body began to stir. I quickly stood and crossed the room. As I reached for the door, her voice stopped me.
“Where is my brother?”
Without turning around, I lowered my voice. “I’ll get him for you.” My hand was twisting the knob when she spoke again.
“Stop. Turn around.”
I pulled the door open and stepped out without saying a word or looking her way. I was almost several steps into the hallway when Evie called out louder.
“Maxim, don’t go.”
Hearing her say my name stopped me in my tracks. Should I go back? Keep walking? I was torn between the two and wasn’t sure what to do. Slowly moving backward, I stopped just outside the door and waited.
“I’m not crazy, Max. I know it’s you,” she declared loudly. But then her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I just don’t know how it’s possible.”
Chapter Seven
A Word From Evie
There wasno way I hallucinated him. I’d know the slope of his broad shoulders. The way he wore his jeans tight, caressing his ass like a second skin. How his thighs filled out his pant legs. But most of all, it didn’t matter that he tried to disguise his voice. I’d know it anywhere because I’ve dreamed of hearing him tell me he loved me since we were kids.
What I couldn’t figure out was how he was here. Alive, in the flesh, when I attended his funeral ten years ago. I held his mother’s hand as we uncontrollably sobbed as they lowered his coffin into the ground. I tried to move and cried out from the pain I still felt. Like a knife was cutting through me, causing my eyes to tear up. From my good eye, I saw a shadow move in the doorway, and then he appeared. He was real.
“I knew it was you.” Unable to control the amount of emotion I felt, I began to sob. Max was by my bedside in five long strides, dropping to his knees, his hand reaching for my face as his thumb brushed away the tears that fell. I turned my head until my lips touched the inside of his palm, and I kissed it. “How? I don’t understand. I can’t believe it’s you. Oh my God, Max, it’s really you.”
“It’s me. I’m here.” His deep voice settled me, no one has ever been able to do that but him.
“But how?” I questioned.
“It’s a long story and one I’ll share with you, but please tell me what you need right now.”
“I could use a pain pill and something to eat.”
Max stood, turned on the bedside light, grabbed several pillows from the other side of the bed, and propped them against the headboard. “Do you need help sitting back?”
“I got it.” I nodded and gently slid against the bed’s attached antique wooden panel. “Thank you.”
He’d aged some, and he’d become more handsome than he was at eighteen. A faint scar marred his cheek, and he’d garnered a few wrinkles around his eyes. Even still, he still took my breath away.
“I’ll be right back; just sit still.” He smiled and leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on my temple. I watched his receding backside as it left the room. When he was no longer in eyesight, I closed my eyes and sighed.What has my Max been doing for the last ten years?
Chapter Eight
The Message
Sawyer was still sittingoutside when I entered the kitchen. It had been months since I’d been in my own home. Sawyer watched over my place in my absence, so I had no idea what there was for food, but surely he’d gone shopping before he brought Evie here.
Opening and closing cabinets, I searched for something I could warm up from a can or box, but what was in the cupboard had been there since the last time I’d been home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable feeding it to Evie. I pulled open the refrigerator door and looked at its contents: milk, salad mix, lunch meat, and limited condiments. Pulling out the lunch meat, I smelled it to make sure it was still good. I slathered mayo on two slices of bread and applied a couple of layers of roast beef. The glass door to the patio opened as I poured the milk into a cup.
“She knows,” I said. “She woke up and saw me walking out the bedroom door, and I tried to pretend I was someone else, but she saw right through it.”
“Well,” Sawyer smiled, “better to pull the band aid off quickly, I say.”
I held out the plate of food. “This is what you intend on feeding your sister?”
“It’s fresh. It’s edible food, why not.”