Fated Risk || Completed

Chapter 34 || Drain Me

Chapter 34
Drain Me
Maddox

The powdered cloud I lived under doesn't leave, doesn't dissolve just because I declare it too. The ghost, they're too rooted in me to just vanish because I wished it, no, they linger. They flash before my eyes the second I wake, playing nightmares I can't wake up from, but do, only to wonder if I'm still back there. Like a movie, they play on repeat, a rotten clip that sends me into major panic while I try to figure out where I am, who I am, what I am, and if I'm dead. The amount of times I've had to convince myself that I'm not actually buried is... while, sad.  

The amount of times I've shot forward in bed, blinking back into reality all while repeating to myself that I'm not about to be stormed with unbelievable volts of electricity any moment is uncountable at this point. I remind myself that I now live in a new body, a new version of myself that's been untouched. And a part of me knows that, but another part of me just can't seem to forget what it was like to be brought into a reality where I was constantly hurting. A living nightmare. And the ghosts won't let me forget that; they're hellbent on it being the first thing I'm reminded of every time I wake up. That's how they keep me in their grip. So, fuck them. Fuck them for messing with me, and making me still feel the sharp jabs of electrify on my bones, even when it's long gone.
   
Because even now as I sit in bed, labored breaths clawing their way out of my body, trying to survive the first few seconds of waking up, I'm still not quite sure where I am. I can see my messy room, the walls are there, and the furniture is just in reach, but the thought of it all being a trick is spreading wide with doubt. Is this an illusion from my nightmare? I can feel the lack of scorching pain in my body, can lift my hand and move my feet, but am I just imagining it all? Imagining freedom. Will it all snap at some point, and will I be left staring back at the top of the coffin, waiting for the air to finally dry out of my lungs. That's the true fear here. Am I living in a simulation that my jagged mind has created for me after I shut off my ability to feel?
   
Am I really alive?
   
Kicking the blanket off my burning body, I forced my legs over the bed and sat up. The movement caused Alvin to perk up from his bed, and he cocked his head at me in question, then stood and jogged at me, not finding my state of mind comforting. Jumping up, his paws dug into my bare thighs, allowing my first breath of relief to fill my lungs. I can feel the sensation of his nails on my skin, and if this was a dream or simulation I won't. Inhaling deeply, I ran my palms through his freshly groomed fur just to feel it on my hands. Feel myself present. "Hey, dude." I crooked, my throat dried out.
   
I'm waking up alone today, without Mateo. I've decided it's time for me to kick that habit because like Kirsan likes to say, it's a crutch that doesn't help my true problem. A coping mechanism I can't indulge anymore. I guess not laying on Mateo's floor, staring up at his mirror ceiling, and wondering how I got there won't be happening again... good thing, right? And yet maybe not because falling asleep is nearly impossible on most nights. Then again, that's normal for me.
   
I remember when I first got back from my holiday I tried just about everything to fall asleep. Drugs, alcohol, I even tried putting a gun to my skull to scare the ghosts away, but it did nothing. The only time I ever found solitude was when I'd lay down by Mateo, and his protective presence took the pressure off my chest. I knew without doubt he'd never let anyone near me. Even during the nightmares, he stayed by my side. And with Sophia, it's the same. The ghost shut up. So, I've decided if I want to be worthy of Sophia, and be able to stand at her side without tripping over my issues, I need to get this under control. No more Mateo. But fuck if that doesn't feel like my favorite chew toy being yanked away from me.
   
From now on Alvin is my only coping mechanism, and Kirsan says that fine. It's a step, and one I need to take despite how fucken erratic it made my mind, how badly it made me want to scream until I tear my throat up, finally taste something other than this acid that bubbles up every morning. I'll admit that I didn't fall asleep till who knows when. I'm running on a few hours of sleep if that, but it's a god damn step. I slept in my own bed, without Mateo. I slept in my own bed, and not on Mateo's bedroom floor. I slept in my own bed without holding the gun to my chest the entire night.
   
I slept. I did that, even if it was for an hour.
   
I took a step.
   
Shoving up to my feet, I quickly got dressed into some gym short before brushing my teeth, not bothering to grab a T-shirt because even thinking about putting material of any kind on my raw skin felt nauseating. I always ran hot. Snatching the water bottle off my nightstand, I gulped back the magical beans, AKA, my medication, before heading to the kitchen. Alvin trotted by my side, looking tired but happy. He watched me toss and turn all night, and kept awake with me. Putting some food in his bowl, I let him eat while I went downstairs to the gym for my daily workout. The pills kicking in made the workout less brutal now. I've managed to lift more, box with Mateo again, and even stretch in ways that my body wouldn't allow me before. Like I said, magical beans.
   
Entering the gym, I found Mateo already sitting there in workout shorts and a black athletic shirt. Hazel eyes flicked up toward me, taking me fully in as I walked through the steel doors. Forcing a smile, as tired as I was, I inclined my head, "Morning, sleeping beauty." I teased.
   
Scoffing, he looked back down at his hands and continued to wrap his wrists. "You're the one sleeping in today." he replied, tone falling flat, trying to hide his surprise. Jokes on him I only slept in because I barely fell asleep to begin with. The sun was rising when I finally knocked out. But hey, progress. At least I managed to fall asleep at all. It's a step, and as small as it is I'm going to take it.
   
The gym was creepily empty this morning, machines cold, and air sticky from the heater. Kirsan and our dads liked to work out at night, and most of the security guys came in and out during the day. Ash was still off jetting to a new country weekly, and Lily hated working out. Aster and Lina did yoga together, but their schedules were weird. Which left the gym open most mornings for us. Tossing my water bottle to the ground, I took the wraps from him. "I'm so sorry, your highness, for keeping you waiting." I joked.
   
"HA." he mocked, not finding it that funny, "Taking joking materials from your sister now? I prefer yours."
   
I smirked. "They're pretty great, aren't they?" I teased.
   
"That's stretching it. They're less annoying."
   
Giving him a lopsided smile, I rolled my wrist to get the wrap on right. "How's therapy going?" I asked, making sure I had enough support to my hand. I'm not used to being able to box anymore, and as much as I'm totally up for it, my body's still adjusting. The most I was able to do before was run. As for the therapy part, I'm still a bit shocked over it. I really expected them to kill each other at some point. Now look at them getting chummy in a family talk session.
   
Mateo stood from the bench, stretching his arms across his chest, muscles flexing at the movement. I used to be bigger than him, he was naturally leaner, but now it's the opposite. "Who knew your sister had the ability to acutally talk to me without a fucken attitude." he responded.
  
"Me. My sisters like red wine. Some taste her and are absolutely distraught, and others get drunk and become addicts." I joked, tossing the wraps to the ground, and taking the boxing gloves off the rack before pushing my hands through them, "So, then I take it you two have found a way to talk through your dumbass problems?" I asked, glancing up at him.
  
Snatching his own pair of gloves, I noted the frustration rimming his chestnut eyes. "Wine? Your sister is like tequila. Who the fuck likes that shit?"
   
"Your brother."
   
He slanted me a hard look, the kind that told me he can't understand what plante his brother lives on that tequila tastes good. But I'm not joking when I say my sister is like red wine. She's a colorful pallet, and some just don't have the class, brains, or confidence to understand what to do with her. She is daring, bold, and a bit reckless. She's not made of sugar and spice, and everything nice. That's not Lily. Like it or no, but she's not for the weak. Lily's made of particular features that make her the kind of person who'd bleed herself dry if you deserve it. It's a short list of people, but we are lucky to be on it. She doesn't only have beauty, but she's intelligent, and that's a lethal combination. "You're getting too far ahead of yourself." Mateo sighed, "I said we managed to talk without fighting, but that's it."
   
That's a major step for them either way. "And you both have your eyeballs intact? That's cause for celebration." I joked, trying to lighten his tense mood,"Maybe we should throw a party, or at least go down to that sushi bar downtown." I went on, readjusting the boxing gloves straps to sit right while I headed towards the ring, feeling him following after me.
   
"Fuck off, Madds." he grumbled back, "Your sister's the wicked witch of the west."
   
Parting the ropes, I hopped up onto the platform and instantly got struck with a bunch of little butterflies. I tried to ignore them but just knowing that I can once again spar with Mateo was overwhelming. It feels like old times, before the heartache I began dying in. "Funny, I think I've heard her say the same about you. But you know what?" I asked, spinning to face him, "You're like my favorite person, and I think you're only slightly annoying. Oh, and I love you very much" I grinned. Despite my morning panic session, I was feeling better today. A bit more spirited, and motivated to get through the day even with the ghosts whispering in my ears. Here I was, becoming whole again. Here I was... remember myself again. And nothing can break my joy over that.
   
Mateo eyed me for a moment, unsettled on an emotion as they all tug at his eyes, softening and hardening them at the same time. He doesn't know what to do with my good mood. He's forgotten what this happy side of me looks like, and I think I forgot too. Finally, a smile cracked on his lips. "You seem better, Madds." he said, getting into a fighting stance, "Is that true, or are you lying your ass off, again?"
     
I followed suit. "I've proven that statement to be impossible because otherwise I would have had no ass by now, and clearly I do." I teased, lifting my hands to my face, "But you know what is proven to be true? That worrying erases years off your life. I'm pretty sure you have shaved off at least twenty already."
     
"You'll give me yours."
      
I hopped around, finding a good position and smiled softly. "If there's a way, then yeah, Mateo, I would." I answered, because I owe him that much. He saved me, again. With his overbearing, protective, and never giving up attitude, he got me here. He got me too steady moments where I'm not running in circles, questioning my whole existence, wondering if I'm really alive. Even this pain, the one that's festered at my core, tugging, kicking, and trying to downright kill me, it's alright. It's bearable.
   
By the time we were done with our workout I was halfway to meeting death, again. But in a good way this time. Using this new energy and ability, I pushed myself as far as I could before finally collapsing to the ground with my back giving out in scorching heat. "Oh, I'm so done." I breathe out, heavily dropping my head back between my shoulders to look at Mateo who stood in front of me, his breath laboring as much.
   
Shoulders shagging in exhaustion, he released a long breath. "About fucken time, Madds. That was really damn good. You haven't worked out like that in years."
   
There was a time when I had just gotten back I'd hide out in my room, turning down every offer the Ramos boys gave to come out with them; I was embarrassed. One night out with them, and I had to come to a devastating understanding that my body no longer worked the way it had before, its capability lessened. I got tired quickly, heart rate racing after a simple walk, and my joints ached when sitting or standing too long. It was so fucken embarrassing. I was hardly twenty, and my knees were in their eights, not to mention my back that was basically on its deathbed. I had no guilt for turning them down, but plenty of regrets grew over time. I'd see it on their face, the longing for my friendship that I shut down, and the sadness they'd try to convince me wasn't there. At one point, I snapped.
   
Late at night, I marched out of my room, snuck around the guards and ran out of the neighborhood. I had no destination. All I knew was I needed an out, I needed space away from everyone, including me. I wanted to just be. I ran so fast, trying to outrun my thoughts, my memories and the lack of them. I ran, and ran, and ran, until my body physically gave out, and I dropped to my knees and hands. I did it again, and again. I did it for many nights after that, and over time I became a runner, was even able to complete a mile before I couldn't move anymore. Soon enough, running became something I turned to when I needed an out. It's the only time my mind went silent.
   
It was only after that did I quit turning the Ramos boy's down on their invites. Only after I beat my body into working with me, into being capable of walking for longer than twenty minutes, because at that point I was running for longer than that. I never told anyone what I was doing; I didn't want to hear the lectures of how the doctors warned me my heart could give out, because maybe I wanted it to give out. Maybe I was suicidal at that point. But fate didn't let me die then, no matter how hard I tried to push myself to it, and for once, I'm thankful it didn't. Because being here, working out with Mateo again left me with a warm sensation in my lower pit, left me feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated, and over the fucken moon happy.
   
Unmoving, I sat on the boxing mat, letting my body rest from the first serious workout I've had in years. It wasn't until the click of the steel doors did I bother to move, looking over my aching shoulder to see who had come in. I know I needed to get up, shower and then get my ass to the office but if I even tried to stand right now I'd embarrass myself because I'm pretty sure my legs would go limp. But even feeling all that, I still couldn't keep the grin off my face, it felt so fucken good to be able to do this again. I felt present, in pain but here.
   
The steel door slammed behind Santiago, and he strolled into the gym, pulling off his headphones to greet us. Since his bodyguarding Aster he lives in the building and has full access to all the amenities, I've seen him in the rooftop jacuzzi a few times. Kicking my knee upwards, I got more comfortable before calling out, "Saint! Why do you look so damn familiar?" I wondered. I swear I've seen him before, or am I really losing my shit here?
   
He strolled past the treadmills, tugging at the bottom of his black loose shirt and peeling it off his ripped body. "Because technically we've met before." he replied, kicking his combat boot onto the plate form of the boxing ring, and starting to tie it, "You were what, fifteen, when you decided the monkeys needed a little fun, and let them free from the Dallas Zoo?"
   
My gaze narrowed on him, wondering how the hell he knew that. That whole night was a drunken mess, and our dare's got a bit out of hand. Mateo bet me I couldn't sneak into the Zoo and let the monkey's loose. My drunk ass, of course, couldn't say no. His sober self didn't stop me, encouraging me further. I went a step further, proving to him I didn't even need to step a toe into the place to make it happen. Hacking the zoo netframe, I unlocked the cage, giving all the monkeys the chance to get out, and then unlocked the zoo gates for them to get through. The monkeys took their only shot to freedom. But I wasn't as smart then, not hiding my tracks in the netframe, and so it was traced back to me. The Dallas Zoo tried to sue my dad, since technically I was underage. We were in control of the whole city, but them animal workers do not play. They were out for a head, preferably mine. In the end, we settled that I was banned from all zoos in Texas state, and since that seemed like an easy let off, my dad agreed to pay the damage done, and took my ban. Oh, well, technically, they banned anyone with the last name of Vallero. And Ramos. Ash was the only one who wasn't happy about it, even though he's never even gone to the zoo, had no plans of it either.
   
But no one really knew this. It stayed in the family. Which left me wondering how Saint knew. Walking towards me, Mateo squatted down to the ground, resting on his knees. "Really, Madds, you don't recognize him? Think hard... who helped us get home that night?"
   
Thinking back to it, even that memory is thick in the fog. A lot of moments were like that for me, a blurry mess, even once that happened before the kidnapping. But I do remember running from the cops after they saw us sitting across the street on the bench, laughing while the monkeys scattered. Mateo called Joel that night, but he wasn't close enough because we ditched him, and so he sent... "Hold on, you're Joel's nephew?" I asked.
   
If he was, then it's been years since I've seen him. If I look closer enough, the similarities are there. He didn't come around much back then, but we crossed paths a few times. His jet-black hair, thick and full, used to be shaggy, but now was buzzed mid length and clean cut, along with his bread. Joel had the same cleanness about him, a disciplined aroma you never missed. The dark shades of his blue eyes were close to Joel's, and even had the same sinking look, the never ending bottom pits you'd never hit. No matter how far you look, they never seemed to stop dropping. From what I remember, Saint was older than us by a year and a half, and Joel mentioned he left for the military after graduating high-school. Joel was proud of him, and said we needed more direction, like Saint had. He only ever said that when we were acting out, which was almost always. Then again, we did it to mess with him.
   
Dropping his foot, Saint leaned on the ropes, both his arms hanging over. "Yeah, I am."
   
"Shit." I huffed, shoving to my feet, steadying myself despite the shit balance I had right now, "Well, I guess I should probably thank you for saving my ass from a night in jail." I joked.
   
He shrugged carelessly, not answering and pushing away from the rink. "What brought you back here?" I called after him.
   
Picking up four sets of one hundred-pound weights, he slid two on each end of the bar. "I was honorably discharged from the military," he explained, picking up another set of two fifty pound weights before sliding each of them onto the ends too, "a couple months ago after being shot. My uncle was here, in New York, so I came here. Obviously I needed a job, and this seemed like an easy one." he responded, sitting down on the bench, "Or so I thought."
   
"Is my sister giving you a hard time?" Mateo asked.
   
Saint tensed, shoulders going upward into a poised position. His attention fall flat on Mateo, and even if Mateo didn't catch the hisitation, I sure as fuck did. "No." he replied quickly, too quickly, and his chest sat still, as if he was waiting to see if he was caught.
   
I would have pointed out that he was lying, but I was too busy eyeing the press he was about to bench, impressed by his ability. Fuck, I couldn't do that. Before my back issues, probably, but definitely not now, not even with the pills or years of therapy. The specialist said my muscles will only recover to seventy five percent of their previous state, even with physical therapy. Which, so we care clear, I've been hiding from like it's the Spanish Plague. Thinking of someone seeing that weak part of me, questioning in the back of their minds what the hell happened to me to get me here, it makes me want to crawl in a deep dark hole. But I have been thinking of finding the program they'd use, and trying it myself, or asking the genius to give me a hand. He's been bugging me for years about it, given the chance he'll jump on it in a heartbeat. "I see your injuries have healed." I spoke up, realizing that Saint might be lean but he could lift me if he wanted.
   
Saint tipped his head back, looking at the bench press. "I'm just warming up." he smirked knowingly, before laying down.
   
Two hours later my lower back muscles were pulsing uncomfortably while I made my way into the office mid-morning. Mateo had an early start, and took his bike to work today. He took that Batman look to a whole new level, a suit and his motorbike, and his all over front page magazines. But he adored that thing, and wouldn't let a couple thousand dollar suit stop him from riding. I, on the other hand, could care less, and sure as shit wasn't wearing a suit. Instead, I had on a pair of black joggers, and a cozy hoodie that Lily deemed work appropriate. Making my way up the stairs, I winced at my throbbing back, and rubbed it. The doctor mentioned that some medication will only help for a bit, and then the pain could return. I might have to go through a few rounds of medication to find the right fit. Hell, he said I might have to do surgery if none of it helps. I fucken hope it does because surgery sounds like a hustle. And it's not a step I'm at a place to take... yet.
   
I was halfway to my office when I noticed Sophia not at her desk. My mood instantly shot downward, growing a frown on my face. I liked her being the first person I saw every morning when I came in. It was like getting shot up with dopamine to kick start me. Maybe she's making coffee? I rounded her counter, coming to her desk and paused, not finding any of her things, or her computer being on. That's odd. She's usually in before me. Unease settled into the deepest of my stomach, and I began to spin my ring. Pulling my phone to call her, it started buzzing before I got to it.
   
Sighing a breath of relief when her name printed on my phone, I smiled. "Morning, my lovely assistant." I answered, leaning my hip on her desk.
   
"Morning, Maddox." she answered, her tone too hardened for my likening, and making me frown again, "I'll be quick. I can't make it in today, I apologized. Are you in the office already?"
   
Concern triggered questions to fill me, and the anxiety creeped up my spinal cord like its own ghosts, invading my lungs, filling my veins, and finding all the dark corners I hide from, absorbing my core with its shaky feeling. "Yeah, I'm in. Are you okay?" I rushed, spinning my ring again. I'm surprised I haven't skinned my finger from the amount of times thing's circled my finger over the years.
  
"Of course," she answered sharply... to sharply, "Jax is a bit under the weather. So, if you don't mind, and there is nothing pressing, I'd like to stay home with him today. Would you go to my desk?" she asked, directly to the point and rushing it by the most important part. I didn't mind her staying home. Hell, if she let me I would be on my way over there right now and fuck work. I almost winced, hating how fleeting his conversation felt. I didn't want anything with Sophia to be brief, or hurried, I wanted to experience it all. Every word, gaze, and feeling she gave me, I wanted to remember it all. "Yeah." I cleared my throat, "I don't mind, Soph, you know that. And I'm already at your desk."
     
With no time to waste, she straight shot on. "Great, would you open my top drawer? Your schedule isn't fully packed today, I've managed to reschedule a few things this morning, but I couldn't move your three o'clock meeting with Lex, so you'll need to take it without me. I've written out the topics of the meeting, points you need to speak on. Maddox, I'm aware you aren't used to knowing your schedule upfront, nor will this be an easy day for you, but you'll need to work with me today. I'll text you hourly updates with anything you'll need, and everything you might be looking for should already be in your email. I am also on the phone, so I'm available at any point."
   
Has she slept? Ate? Paused for a moment to breathe? At what point in the evening, night, or morning did she decide to stay home with Jax, and then instead of reaching out for help, or telling me I'm going to need to figure it out on my own, she went out of her way, exhausting herself to do her job, while taking care of a sick baby. I suspect just based on the force of tone she's using, trying to cover up the tiredness, she needs help. But instead of asking, she'd rather put all her drawn energy into doing it herself. I'd be angry at her, if I didn't already know that this was how Sophia operaterated. In a go-go mood, unstoppable, and independent. But what I hated most was how professional this entire conversation was. As I'm just her boss, and will tell her to come into work. "Sophia, I'm going to need you to tell me where the fuck you got the idea that I'd ever made you work when that baby is sick?" I replied, not giving a fuck about my work day, or all the meetings. Nothing has changed, I'm still people pleasing and I can do that in my sleep.
   
"It's my job, Maddox, and just because my situation has me at home does not mean I plan to fail. I can take care of Jax, and still do my job with high quality."
   
Is that what is it? Does she feel like she failed to keep Jax healthy? "And I'm telling you not to worry about it today, take care of Jax. How is he doing?" I asked.
   
"Maddox, the meeting with Lex—-"
  
"Sophia." I cut her off sharply, knowing that given the chance she'd go to the ends of the world to keep her stress in line. I've figured out that when she is stressed, she becomes more strict. As if she needed to have every single one of her actions planned to the dot otherwise everything will crumble. I imagine Sophia doesn't do well with control being taken from her, and right now every word was coming with an agitated beat, "As your boss, but mainly as your boyfriend, I do not want you thinking of working. Focus on nothing but Jax, and yourself today, I'm calling in mutual agreement on this. If I get even a hint of you still working, I'm cutting the internet to your house, and don't think I won't. It'll take me two seconds, Sophia, and then expect me to be on your doorstep to spank you. Now, tell me how Jax is doing." I said, my anxiety climbing up my throat.
     
Her hesitating pause hurt in a way I didn't expect, and I know it's not from what I said, but my question about Jax. "Sophia." I winced, "Please, I'm worried about him and you. All I want to know is that you both are okay."
   
It felt like someone was squeezing my throat the longer I waited, and finally after a long and tedious moment in which my lungs had expanded in my chest to the point of capacity, I heard her sigh softly, tiredly. "I'm not sure if he's okay, Maddox. He's had a pretty bad fever and it hasn't gotten better since last night. Eating is out of the question because even seeing food makes him cry, and sleeping he'll only do if I'm holding him. I've gotten medicine, but I don't think it's working."
   
That's bad.. "I can come over and help?"
   
"What would that help?"
   
Her question was harsh, but I didn't let it get to me. "I'd support you, help you." I responded, praying she would say yes, but it's a stretch.