Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Chapter 17 Toy's Full Of Reclamation Maddox
I leaned on the counter, tapping my finger against it in a restless rhythm as I waited. My patience was wearing thin, so thin I could almost feel the old ghosts creeping in, whispering things I didn't want to hear. I needed a distraction, anything to quiet the noise in my head. Maybe I'd convince Mateo to play hockey with me sometime. We used to play back in high school. It had been fun, at least on the good days, when I wasn't already drowning in my own mind. I wondered if that's what messed up my back even more—those brutal practices, the falls on the ice, the constant hits. Or maybe it's just the years of tension and strain finally catching up. Or maybe... I'm just old. Just kidding, I'm twenty-one.
The doctors have been telling me for years now that I need to go on medication. Without it, they said, I'd eventually hit a point where my back would seize up completely, where I wouldn't even be able to move without pain. Joke's on them—I'm already there. Or maybe the joke's on me. The meds are supposed to help my muscles relax, stop them from locking up the way they do, turning every movement into a trigger for pain. Kirsan even bought the prescription and left it on my nightstand, like a dare. My mom scowls every time I mention I'm not taking it.
I don't really know why I'm so stubborn about it. It's obvious I need it. Maybe it's the idea of relying on medication just to feel okay in my own skin, like once again, I'm not in control. I swore after getting rescued that I'd never depend on anyone or anything again. And yet, I've had to make my peace with needing my family around just to feel stable. But medication... that's a bigger step, one I can't seem to take. Or maybe, that I couldn't take. Because right now, standing here waiting, I could feel the ache tightening across my shoulders, muscles pulling so hard that I had to take shallow breaths just to keep from seeing stars.
Suddenly, a gentle hand closed around my tapping finger, halting my fidgeting. I flinched, instinctively, but relaxed when I saw it was Sophia. "Standing here tapping isn't going to help me finish any faster," she said softly, pulling her hand back but leaving a hint of warmth lingering where she'd touched me. "You're actually very distracting."
I sighed, dropping my hands to my sides. "Then just leave it all for tomorrow," I said, trying to keep my tone light, even though I was barely holding myself together. "Your boss is letting you, so come on. I promise I won't even scowl at you tomorrow." I gave her a half-smile, anything to get her to wrap up so we could finally head out. I'd been ready to leave an hour ago. Hell, I'd been ready twelve hours ago.
She looked up at me, her eyes soft but resolute, like a calm ocean hiding a riptide beneath. "You've got a meeting first thing in the morning," she reminded me, tilting her head slightly. "Do you really want to go in unprepared?"
I winced, knowing she was right. "No," I muttered, not meeting her gaze.
Sophia chuckled as she went back to work, and I sighed, realizing I'd lost her attention again. It was pathetic, really—me, a grown man, hovering around her like some restless teenager, just hoping she'd glance up. For fuck's sake. And yet, I found myself drifting closer to her desk, stopping behind her chair, like proximity alone could somehow anchor her attention back to me.
