Page 45 of Mad Max

I breathe through my dislike of his answer and push the emotion out. He’s not lying. Wish he was. Would be easier to figure out than the fuzzies going on in my belly when I think about the beast.

Sleeping in his arms all night did nothing to clear my head. I have no simple answers, just more confusion. I guess I could just ask him. But he would need to be around for that to happen, and apparently no one has any idea where he is. Or at least my babysitter doesn’t.

I’m not sure how long we sit there playing our phone games. Neither of us really talks, and only a few people walk by us.

Only when a bag of groceries is set in front of me do I look up. Curiosity is my weakness, and I don’t even bother turning around to see who set it down before I’m digging through it. I find two things: a toothbrush and grape Kool-Aid squeeze bottles.

I spin around so fast, I would have fallen if Mad Max hadn’t put out a hand to stop me. I’m not sure what others see when they’re looking at me, and I know they are. I can feel it. But I only have eyes for one beast. And he just stares back at me with the same intensity.

No one, not even my uncle, has bought me a gift outside my birthday and the anniversary of my parents’ death, which was like a second birth for me. It’s just a drink, but I know they don’t sell these at every corner store. You have to search for them, even harder if you want grape. I swear he just handed me the equivalent of a super rare baseball card.

“Thank you,” I whisper. Not sure if it was loud enough for him to hear me or if he just read it on my lips, but he nods in return.

I swallow the emotions that are attacking me, almost suffocating me. I’ve never experienced this. Ever since I sat beside him on the couch those many weeks ago, I’ve been feeling things.

Can a person have three birthdays? ’Cause I want to add one more to my list—the day he walked into my life and I started to feel.

I know how to have feelings, but they’re small. Easy to push down and feel nothing. Some have called me cold or robotic; I just see it as me being able to compartmentalize and deal with what’s needed. If that meant I lost or didn’t get something I wanted in the end, then that’s what was meant to be.

You get what you get. Whether or not my parents wanted me to live it all my life, it dawns on me that it’s the single motto I’ve really stuck with. Guess that was why it was so easy to push the emotions away before. Your wants and desires don’t really get a say when something is handed to you. You just deal with it, and it’s better to do that with a clear head than an emotional one.

Until now.

I spin back in my chair and just look at the drinks as I try to grasp the wave of emotions fighting for control. I should be able to push them down, but I can’t. Not right now. Not when I know it’s his hands that grab the pack of six drinks, making them look so small as he peels off the plastic, unscrews the lid, and passes me one before taking one for himself.

I take a much-needed sip. Only after I let the cool liquid slide down my throat do I hear the noise around me. Like coming out of a tunnel, I can suddenly hear everything. More people are here now; not sure when they got to the club. Casper is talking with Mad Max, but I still can’t focus enough to catch what they’re saying.

Unlike the emotional onslaught I have raging inside me, I know I’ve done this bit before. I get so focused that I just block everyone out, focusing on the buzzing in my ears and not those around me. Might not be the smartest thing to do in a place that doesn’t trust me, but there’s a part of me, a part I’m trying to understand, that knows I’m safe here. And I don’t have to search too hard to know it’s because of the beast—my beast. He makes me feel safe, even when he’s not here, like no one would dare touch what’s his, and I like that feeling. I like it a lot.

“How long did you drive for?”

“A few hours. There wasn’t much traffic on the way back from El Dorado.”

My ears perk up, and I turn enough to have both men in my periphery. Guess I’m not the only one shocked to know that Mad Max went to the prison today, as Casper’s eyebrows are nearly at the top of his head.

“Yup. Give her the Wi-Fi password. Doubt the agency will want her offline for long.”

He drops my client’s name as if it’s nothing, but Casper is sputtering, and all I do is grin.

Jimmy told him. He must like the guy more than he lets on. Only a handful of people know about my work with them. I have a lot of clients, but they’re the ones who keep a steady stream of business coming through my door.

“How’s he doing?” I pipe up.

Mad Max looks to me and nods. “He’s good. Says hi.”

Now I know he’s lying, and I just smile wider. “Liar.” My uncle is many things, but being a person who says hi is not one of them.

I love that the beast just smiles back. It feels like we’re sharing a private joke, and maybe we are. Not many people can say they’re close to Jimmy Travis, but I guess he and I can.

It takes a bit of time, but I eventually find myself in a corner booth with access to my laptop and phone. Even got my burner phone back. All fully working with access to the outside world. I’m left alone to answer emails and make calls, but I’m never out of sight of the club. Or Mad Max.

I’m curious about his name. He doesn’t really seem like the mad type, nor does he look like the guy on the movie posters. Yeah, I looked up the name to see if I could understand it myself. It’s just another puzzle I want to solve. But unless they somehow decide I can have access to their personal records, the only way I’ll find out that mystery is if I ask.

Do they keep records of everyone’s name? Just another thing to ask, I guess. Would make sense to me if they did. How else would they remember all their nickname origin stories and make sure they don’t use someone else’s from another chapter?

Yeah, I also googled the club a bit. I don’t know much, but I know they have a few chapters. Having that many members must require some kind of system to keep all the names straight. Wonder if they have to register the name in a database or something.

“Need anything?”

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