All Is Love and War | Maxley |

➳ 8

Rape mentioned (it doesn't happen)

CHAPTER 8

Bradley

It was twelve. Max and I were sitting at the bar together, doing shots like there was no tomorrow. I was having fun, which didn't happen very often. Max's leg brushed against mine, and I'll admit, the slight friction sent a dangerous shiver down my spine. I shouldn't have liked it. I made a funny joke. Max, his usual self, brushed his hair back with his hand, laughing. He smiled softly at me, quieting down. His eyes drew themselves to mine. He parted his mouth open as if he meant to say something but nothing came out. We watched each other in silence, the chatter in the bar fading into a big blur.

Max shook his head, regaining awareness. "I have to go to the bathroom, Brad."

I chuckled, "alright. Don't get lost," I teased.

He left, swaying between the bodies pressed against each other on the dance floor. I swirled my beer inside of its bottle. The shots from before were slowly hitting me. "It's you," I heard someone say.

I turned around. It was him; my one night stand. "Hey," I managed, my mind raging. "Sorry, did you need something?"

He sat in Max's spot. "Actually, I was wondering why you left without telling me. What, you fuck and dip?"

I dropped my beer bottle, it clanked against the hardwood flooring. My lips pressed together. "I warned you it was just a one night stand, no need to stay for the morning."

He shifted closer. "I want a redo."

A redo? Every bone in my body told me it was a bad idea. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd be making a terrible mistake letting him have his "redo."

"So?"

"No," I said confidently. "I'm here with someone, anyway, it'd be rude to leave." He frowned, clearly upset with my answer.

"You're already fucking somebody else? You move around," he hissed. "C'mon, you'll love it."

No, no, no! "What do you not fucking understand about the word, 'no.'" He mumbled something under his breath. He stood up. He started to leave but dragged me along with him. I pulled back but he was stronger, bigger. "Max," I shouted.

Where was he when I needed him? "Shut up," the man hissed.

No one in that bar cared for my safety, hell if Max did either. He brought me behind the bar, dropping me on the hard concrete. I scrambled to get up, slipping on my own feet. He bent over, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt.

"You can't run," he growled. This wasn't happening! "No one is here to save you." He started undoing his belt. It clanked to the floor. "Do what you did before."

I sat petrified in front of him. He grabbed the back of my neck, drawing me closer. I shouted as loud as I could, it riffled through the trees. I pushed against his needy hands. Why was I so weak against this man?

"Get your filthy hands off of him," a voice boomed. Max!

The man turned around. "You're the man he's fucking. That's fine, sit and watch. You'll get your chance," he purred.

"I said get your filthy fucking hands off of him."

He chuckled to himself, "you're a piece of work. Let's get this over with." He cracked his knuckles. "Come fight me, bitch."

Max looked directly at me. He nodded his head as if to tell me he'd be just fine. "I'll teach you to not touch what isn't yours."