Mad Summer Love

The Truth

Summer arrived to work the next day with a note on her desk. It was from her editor's secretary telling her where she would be meeting Maddox this morning. Thankfully her editor hadn't asked her how it went yesterday or she would have had to lie to him. 

She peered out of the big tall building windows and thought about how seeing Maddox yesterday had really thrown her for a loop. Ten years ago, it was an emotional rollercoaster ride for her. She tried desperately to reach him. She even came by his house; the same one she was just at. A man was there. He claimed that he was Maddox's uncle, but Summer thought he looked more like a hitman. He told her Maddox had left for college. She knew it wasn't true and that he was right inside those doors, but she left the man with a sealed envelope for Maddox; its contents containing her love for him, but he never attempted to get in touch with her. So, she moved on or at least tried to...the best that she could. Seeing him again just threw her back on that ride and all she could do was hold on tight. 

Summer sighed and headed down to climb in a cab. She prayed she could keep it together this time. She had to.

Maddox entered the warehouse. It had been a decade since he had been there. It wasn't much more than a cold concrete box, but those cold walls held the ghosts that changed his life. If he was going to tell Summer his story, his true story, this was where it should be told. This was where it all began. Lighting up a smoke he took a long drag and waited.

Summer stepped out of the cab in front of the huge abandoned warehouse. This was not a place that she would ever want to be on any occasion. It felt like the place they go to in movies when they kidnap you and hold you for ransom. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew Maddox- even though he had changed- and was certain he wasn't about to hold her hostage, she would have negotiated another location. 

She walked through a big door at the front of the building to see Maddox standing there, having a cigarette. She slowly made her way to him, her four-inch black heels clacking against the cold cement and echoing throughout the building. She stopped only a few feet away from him. 

"When did you start smoking?"

Maddox looked at his cigarette disapprovingly before dropping it on the concrete floor and grinding it under his shoe. "A while ago. I had a certain image I had to create. But I am getting ahead of myself." 

He walked a circle around her, as though looking for something in the otherwise empty space. 

Summer watched him snuff out his cigarette and circle around him; her eyes studying his features closely. He seemed different, even more so than the day before. 

"Here," he said, pointing to the floor where a dark oil stain seemed to live on the concrete. "This is where my life changed. Are you sure you are ready for this? It's not to late to turn back." 

Maddox wasn't sure if he was warning Summer or begging her to run.

She glanced down at stained floor and back up to him. He wanted her to say no, but he should have known her better than that. She set down her bag and pulled out her notebook. Looking around the room, she saw a lone chair, forgotten in the corner. She walked over and dragged it to him, causing it to screech along the floor in an unpleasant manner. Then, she took a seat, crossing her legs; her short, black skirt rising halfway up her thigh revealing even more of herself to him. 

"Yes, Maddox. I'm ready to finally learn what you should have told me all those years ago." She took her pen and pressed it to the paper. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

Maddox nodded. There was no turning back now. The thought of what she might think of him at the end of all this caused a tightness in his gut. 

"This is where they found him, my father, he was face down in a pool of blood, two gunshot wounds to his chest. Both of his bodyguards were dead. One must have been caught by surprise, his gun was still holstered and the high-caliber round had caught him in the back of the head. The other was able to fire back before they killed him; it was likely what stopped the attackers from making sure they had finished my dad off."