Page 100 of Ruthless Game

When he was back, he started the fire.

“Where did you learn to do that?” I asked. Max hadn’t been a Boy Scout.

“My mom would take me camping—before she left.”

In the past, when he talked about her, his voice would get hard and his body rigid, but he seemed relaxed today, like it didn’t hurt anymore.

We were quiet for a while as he slowly built the fire. As it crackled to life, he turned to me.

“There are things to say,” he prompted.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Who’s saying them? Because I think it’s you.”

Exhaling, he laid out a soft rug and more blankets, before patting the ground. “Join me?”

I went to sit beside him, and he stared into the orange flames.

“I know you know what an asshole my dad was. But I don’t think either of us knew what a number he did on me. He always told me that I wasn’t worthy. That I was weak. And even though you tried to tell me otherwise, his voice was always louder.” Max swallowed. “I guess … because I thought the happiness between us was temporary, and even though I tried to believe otherwise, tried to tell myself otherwise, I was always waiting for that other shoe to drop.” He glanced over at me now. “And then it did.”

Except the other shoe didn’t drop on its own. He threw it.

That anger that had been banked when he’d been on his knees in the shower returned with a vengeance. We’d lost so much, and for why?

Turning to him, I slapped his head.

“Ow!”

“Why? Why couldn’t you trust me? Why couldn’t you believe I loved you?” By now, I was on top of him, slapping at him, clawing at him, my voice breaking. “Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why did you have to destroy everything we had? Destroy me? Destroy us? What’s to say you won’t do it again? Why, Max? Why go through with hurting me so much?”

I collapsed in sobs against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, stroking my back.

“I know, Angel. I know. Shh, I know. I’m so sorry. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t worthy of you and I was living on borrowed time, and I punished us both for it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. All of this was my fault.”

“And then you cheated on me,” I cried, the words and tears a downpour. “I saw you, with those two girls, and you said, you said⁠—”

“That it was nothing more than you deserved,” he said, his voice equally choked, equally broken. “I let them, Angel, and I’m so sorry. I’m so ashamed.”

Something—something about the way he said that woke something up in my brain.

I let them.

I’m so ashamed.

“Max,” I asked. “What really happened that night?”

His eyes shut. “Don’t make me relive it, Emma. Please. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how else⁠—”

“Max.” This time, it was me shushing him. “I think it’s important that you tell me.” Because when he said it was his fault?

I wasn’t sure that was true at all.

38

Lawson

(Then)

Ineeded to get drunk.