Bloodlines//MJF

Chapter 17

The walls are closing in and Max knows that he has to weigh his options. All Chris is asking is that Max admits his original plan. That he never cared for Sam, just what she could offer him. It would be so easy to get out of this. And he knows that Sam really doesn't care if he admits it or not.

Telling Chris what he wants to hear is the most logical move for Max, but then he feels her hand grab his. And one glance back at the look in her eye is all it takes for him to make his decision. He'd rather take a million beatings at the hands of his enemies than ever see them lay a hand on Sam.

For what has got to be one of the first times in Max's life someone is more important than him.

"Listen to me. We're both going to back up to the ropes, then when I say go you're gonna slip out and book it up the arena and out of harm's way. Okay?" He relays the plan to Sam.

Max gives her a hand a small squeeze as she protests his idea. Something he knew she'd do. He knows that they only have moments before Jericho's goons are on them.

"Sam! Just do it, okay?" Max takes another glance back at her, feeling her hand in his for the first time now. "Please?" He pleads with her firmly.

Sam does what she's told, though Max can see the desperation in those pretty green eyes. He knows that he just needs to buy a few seconds so Sam can make her escape.

"Okay, Chris? You want me to admit the truth?" Max turns back to Chris as he slowly starts taking small steps backward. "The truth is, your daughter means more to me now than I originally thought. And you're an asshole for treating her the way that you do. Sam, go!" He turns around and shoves Sam through the ropes harshly.

The last thing Max feels is Sam's hand let go of his as she tumbles to safety before he's getting punched in the back of the head.

Max falls down onto the mat as multiple people swarm around him and attack. He gets punched and kicked without remorse but doesn't make an effort to fight back. He manages to look up for second in-between kicks and catches a small glimpse of Sam at the top of the arena stairs. Safe and sound. And this fact alone makes him relax.

Medical staff and backstage security state to trickle out to the ring, saving Max from any further damage. Medical staff sink down and attend to him as soon as they are past the ropes.

"Okay, careful now." One of the staff speaks above him. "We've got a head injury and possible concussion."

Max's head pounds and his body aches. He can feel a warm stream of blood trickling down his face as it starts to slowly crustify. The medical staff haul him to his feet and help him up the ramp to the safety of the backstage area.

His breathing remains shallow, all the oxygen being knocked from his lungs after being kicked one too many times. His eyes water, vision obstructed by the tears that form in them. Not daring to fall and cascade down his cheeks in defeat. This is a beating that Max is sure to remember when he's older. A beating that he could have easily avoided if he'd never have met Sam.

The medical staff look Max over and get the cut on his head stitched up, as well as recommend that he stay away from the action for a couple of weeks. He's barely recovering the air knocked from his lungs when he spots a head of golden hair come through the door.

"Max?"

His head perks up at the sound of Sam on the other side of the room, hassling the doctors for his status no doubt.

"Doc, it's okay. Let her in." Max calls out to the doctor in a sort of half-cough.

"Max!" He watches as Sam damn near shoves the doctor out of the way as he makes her way over to him. "Holy shit, are you okay?" She rushes over to his side with urgency.