Deadly Secrets

Chapter 51: Dirt

The drive to the hospital was awkward to say the least.

They sat in complete and utter silence, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak.

Because of Max's temporary disability, he was unable to drive, and hence had to call his chauffeur to bring them to their destination. He couldn't even use driving as an excuse to keep his mind off the girl beside him and the hell she had brought to his life.

He was mad. How couldn't he be? There he was, running around blindly, grasping at straws, when the answer he was searching for was right underneath his nose. 'Humiliated' couldn't even begin to describe the way Max felt, and neither did 'ashamed' or 'mortified'. He had hated Gabriel and the rest of his father's henchmen since day one, but accusing them of a crime they hadn't committed was beyond acceptable.

Max had made a buffoon of himself on several occasions, so showing his face at headquarters was now out of the question. He'd utter a single word and they'd throw him out and pelt him with rotten tomatoes, and he deserved it. He had pointed his finger without damning evidence against them, and it wouldn't be surprising if his father decided to deport him back to Spain for bringing shame upon the family.

Because that's what he had done. Shamelessly.

He pressed his temple against the window, allowing the coolness to sink in. His long legs were bent uncomfortably behind the driver's seat while his back was arched forwards, and he felt like a clown attempting to ride a minuscule bicycle.

Max could feel Zara's remorseful glances every once in a while, but he duly ignored them, preferring to occupy himself by observing the traffic that raged outside. There wasn't a moment when his line of sight wasn't invaded by a yellow taxi, blurred by the heavy rain that pelted the window, like stones. His eyes hurt for keeping them open for so long, but it didn't matter. He'd do anything instead of talking to Zara.

He felt her shift beside him, and that stare to the side of his head again. It was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," She said.

The apology would have been appropriate for a child who accidentally knocked over a vase, not for Zara. It would take more than a 'sorry' to make him even consider forgiveness.

Max said nothing in response.

"I really am...I don't—I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything!" He snapped, tilting his head back.

More shifting, and a sniff. "I only found out yesterday...why won't you believe me?"

"Why should I?" Max turned so he could look at her, really look at her.

Beautiful. No, don't think about these things.

"How can I believe that you didn't know about this the whole time?" Max continued, "The only reason you talked was because you had to. If I wouldn't have brought it up then you would've never said anything, am I right?"

Her eyes flitted downwards.

It was a complicated thing. If she would've known earlier, would she have told him? Most likely not, as she would have behaved in the best interests of her grandfather. She would think that she was protecting him that way.

She was wrong.

"You don't know what mess your grandfather is in..." Max shook his head. A deal with el Tigre was like a deal with the devil. You rarely came out of it alive, and in one piece. "Do you know anything about the Jaguars?"

She pursed her lips, "They're a gang...I heard about them on the news."

Max looked at her incredulously.