Page 22 of When the Living Fall

“Oh?” I glance up, curiosity piqued.

“You should talk to Max.” His request is slow and careful, his gaze shifting until it meets mine. “I get it if you don’t want to, but he’s…not in a good place.”

“Is he hurt?” A rush of worst-case scenarios flash through my mind. I thought Griffin was the one I had to worry about, but William seems genuinely concerned for Max. Panic twists in my stomach. If he’d been bitten, they’d have told me right away, not danced around it. If he were on the verge of turning, they’d be keeping a close eye on him, not leaving him to die alone and turn. Despite how upset I am with them; I still know they’re better people than that.

“No, it’s not that.” William rushes to reassure me when he notices the worry on my face. Sometimes I suspect he can read my mind. “It’s not a physical injury. Well, maybe a little bit, but that’s not what I’m talking about. He doesn’t care about falling off the cliff.”

“Wait, what?” I look in the direction we’re headed, but the spot I left Griffin is out of view. Max wasn’t there when I woke up, but I heard him with Buddy before William came and whisked me away. He fell off a freaking cliff, and that’s not what has William worried?

“It’s something else. You’ll understand when you see him.”

As we near the clearing, Max comes into view. He’s leaning into a rotter, beating it with a ferocity that borders on desperation, his morning star slamming down again and again, even as the body dissolves into the dirt. He’s striking the ground now, hitting it like he can’t stop. A sense of unease settles over me.

“I’ll be back,” I murmur to William, handing him my water bottle and taking a few steadying breaths before I approach Max. He doesn’t notice me yet, too absorbed in pounding the earth with a fury that frightens me. This is different from the wild side of him I’ve witnessed before.

Moving closer, I see how he favors one foot. Until he steps on that foot and the pain in his face flashes for a brief moment before it’s replaced with a grin that sends a shiverdown my spine. I know firsthand how debilitating an injured ankle is in the apocalypse.

A twig snaps under my foot, signaling my presence. Max spins around in an instant, his morning star raised in one hand and a knife in his other, the blade stopping a mere inch from my throat. I swallow hard and wait.

Recognition flickers in his eyes before he lets out a low, frustrated sound. Both weapons fall to the ground with a thud. He presses the heels of his hands against his temples, mumbling to himself, his whole body tensing. He turns away from me. I take a hesitant step forward. It’s like he’s trying to shake off whatever’s haunting him. I wonder if he’s worse off than William realizes.

He smacks his palms against his head. I worry he’ll hurt himself, so I run around in an arc until I’m facing him, and I grab his wrists, forcing him to look at me. “Max, please. Talk to me.”

He jerks free from my grip. One hand moves to my throat at lightning speed, and before I can register what’s happening, his lips crash into mine, fierce and raw. I momentarily taste blood, but my thoughts scatter, my pulse pounding. I’m pulled into his frustration, his regret, his need. My brain short circuits, and before I can react, he pushes me away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be around me.”

Then he turns and walks away, leaving me alone, breathless, and stunned, staring after him. William was right—Max is dealing with something intense. But I don’t know what anyone expects me to do, or how I’m supposed to help him through whatever shadows he’s fighting alone. How can I be expected to fix three broken men when they’re the ones who broke me?

When I turn my head, I catch Griffin’s gaze from a shortdistance away. His expression shadowed, eyes dark with something between worry and frustration. I don’t know when he came over, but at least he’s using the enormous tree trunk to support his weight while leaning against it. Otherwise, I’d have something to say about him moving around like this. He’s in no shape to continue the way he has been.

Griffin’s eyes lock onto mine, and his voice is low when he speaks. “We’ve all messed up, but Max…Max’s demons run deeper. If he doesn’t face them, he’ll self-destruct, piece by piece. He’s done it before, and I fear this time I might not be able to pull him out.”

A pang of sympathy breaks through my anger when his words sink in. I don’t want Max to spiral, even if he’s hurt me. I nod to Griffin in acknowledgement, then pick up Max’s morning star, and follow after him.

I catch up to Max a few feet away, his back tense while he mutters to himself, fists clenched at his sides. His hand stretches out, searching for his weapon, only to realize it’s not there. He spins around, eyes wide and wild, and then he spots me.

“Here,” I say, holding out the morning star to him.

He takes it, surprise flickering in his gaze as his fingers wrap around the handle. He spins it once, his knuckles going white when he tightens his grip.

“Talk to me, Max,” I say in a soft tone, keeping my voice steady. “Maybe talking it out would help.”

A shadow crosses his face, and he looks away and mutters. “There’s no point. You’re only going to leave, like everyone else. You already did…just like my brother.”

I hold back a sigh, feeling the sting of his words. “I didn’t abandon you, Max. You made the choice to listen to him instead of hearing me out. You’re the one who pushed me away before I could even explain. I wanted you, but you sent me away.”

His striking, vibrant green eyes flare with anger, or maybe it’s something deeper. “I know that, but everyone leaves me. Why sit around waiting for the inevitable when I can cut them loose first? You were never going to stay, anyway.”

“You don’t know that. You still won’t give me a chance to explain.”

“Everyone. Leaves.”

Swinging my arm out, I gesture behind me to where Griffin and William are standing watch, William with his arms crossed over his chest and Griffin with his hand balled into a fist by his side. “Those two have never left you, Max. That’s proof enough, even if you can’t see it.”

“One day they will,” he responds, his voice hollow, like he’s speaking from a place I can’t quite reach. “Because everyone does.”

The words cut me sharper than I expected. They damn near break my heart. I know the feeling. So, I step closer, reaching up to take his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my gaze. My fingertips graze along the few cuts and scrapes on his cheek. “You wanted me gone, Max. You wouldn’t give me ten seconds to tell you I chose you—that I was coming back. I was never going to leave you, any of you. Not permanently. But you shut me out before I even had the chance.”

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