Runaway ✔

139 • Maddox

About 20 miles away from San Quentin, there was someone else who considered the 12th of December as an important day. Contrary to her father, Maddox hadn't treated himself a piece of cake. Instead, he rushed through the house, up and down the stairs, from the front to the back, searching for something he knew he wasn't going to find. 

He was not okay. There was an itching underneath his skin, driving him to madness. He didn't know what to do about it, he was continuously trying to hold back his anger and snarky comments towards his clients. His business wasn't benefiting from his mood and it was dragging on for far too long. She was gone for more than half a year. 

Half a year. It felt so much longer. Sometimes he looked at old pictures of her because he couldn't remember all her details too well. God, he missed her so much. He had never known his feelings for her went so deep. Sure, he had been in a state when she had left him, and when she had told him she loved him no more. He had been furious, but the pain was deeper now. 

He loved her. 

He needed her. 

He realized that only now – and he felt so much regret about the way he had treated her. If he could do it over again, he would have done things differently. He had considered her as his property for far too long, and he felt ashamed of it now. That wasn't how a woman should be treated. 

He had to make things right. He would make things right. 

As soon as she was back. 

For giving her up, that was something he was incapable of. Her absence broke him, kept him from sleeping at night and occupied his mind during the day. She felt like an addiction he could no longer live without, but which wasn't anywhere close to him. And the thought there was someone else who did have access to her, who did touch and kiss her and defiled her with his filthy lips and fingers... that made his blood boil. 

Again and again the same words turned up in his head, coming from her biker friend who had shot at his men. "She's happy without you. And the body you desire so much, is right beneath the lips and hands of someone else now."

Again Maddox clenched his fists. He squeezed his fingers to keep himself from knocking over the table, from demolishing his own house again. He needed to regain control. If his clients would see him this way, they would think he had lost his mind. Then they would withdraw and go looking for another supplier. 

Dana had to come back. And the asshole who had talked to him through the phone, needed to die. The thing was, that he didn't exactly know who it had been. The men who had succeeded to escape, had talked about two people: a man with a scar in the shape of a grin and a blonde man. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He would just order his men to gun down all blonde bikers. He was done waiting. He had waited as long as he could, giving her a chance to come back. But apparently she enjoyed his dark side, eager to see how far he was willing to go, just like he had wanted to see how far she had been willing to go. They were a better fit than she wanted to admit, but deep down he had always known they were made for each other. 

Maddox heaved a deep sigh and sat down on the couch. The couch she had never sat on. There was nothing in this house which she had touched, and he regretted the sale of his former house. He however had been convinced she would be back by now. How could he ever have imagined that she would disappear without a trace? He cursed himself for letting it get this far. The games that he enjoyed so much, were biting him in the ass now. He glided with his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, pretending to feel her finger tips scraping his scalp. It was hard to remember her touch. There were other images crossing his mind: her tears, the hatred churning in her eyes, her sobs as he took from her what he believed had been his right to take from her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll make up with you. I will make up for it all." He took a deep breath. "But only after a last unforgivable act."