Maxx

Just this once, I swore as I felt the needle kiss my skin. I grimaced as the sharp tip slid beneath the surface and connected with the waiting vein. The prick of pain bothered me. The sensation made me feel sick to my stomach.

Given how eager I was for the release, it was almost comical how squeamish I was when it came to the methods I had chosen to get my fix.

I don’t want this.

If only it were true. Too bad want and need were entirely different things.

Sure, I didn’t want this. But my body sure as hell needed it. My veins burned as I unloaded the drug into my body. I picked at the skin around my nails, waiting for the high.

I had never gone to this extreme before. I had always kept myself perilously close to the edge without actually going over.

But this was different.

I was different.

And the need to drown out the chaos in my head outweighed the inherent fear I felt of the needle that now hung limply between my fingers.

I was a goddamned mess. I sat there, squatting in the stall of the nastiest public toilet I had ever been in, when I could be out there, doing anything but this.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn’t bother to look at who was calling me. Because I already knew it would be her.

Aubrey.

In a moment of stupidity I had called her. I had let my obsession with her rule me. Now she was worried.

I wish she would stop fucking worrying.

Christ, now I felt guilty.  Because I should feel guilty for what I was doing to her.

I fisted my hand over my heart, ready for the pain that resided there to go away. I checked the time on my watch. Five minutes.

Five freaking minutes already. It felt like five fucking years.

Any second now I would forget about all of this.

My phone buzzed again, and this time I pulled it out and stared at the screen. Aubrey’s name flashed bright in the dimness.

Like a beacon.

Or my salvation.

Before I was too blissed out on the high to care, I felt the fear.

A deep-in-my-bones sort of panic that not even the smack could erase. It all had to do with her. 

Aubrey.

And the consequences of my selfish choices on the two of us.

In my sudden clarity, I wished to God I could take it back — the moment when I had let the shameful taste of oblivion mean more than the peace I had found in her arms. I wanted to suck the poison from my veins and go back to those minutes before I had thrown my life away for a chance at drug-induced nirvana.

Because she was my nirvana. My quiet in the storm. And what I felt for her was a hell of a lot more real than anything I could experience at the sharp end of a needle or through the chalky taste of pills in my throat.

But it was too late, and soon I wouldn’t care about any of it. And for the first time I hated it. I hated the high. I hated the relief. I hated me. 

And then, finally, my limbs became heavy. My heartbeat began to slow. My mind, which was just a second ago debating whether to let her save me, clouded in a haze.

Who needed salvation when I had… this?

My phone buzzed again, and in a fit of anger, I threw it against the bathroom stall and watched with an encroaching indifference as the pieces fell to the floor.

My eyelids drooped, and my knees buckled. I slid down the wall to sit on the piss-stained floor as the air around me vibrated from the bass of the music playing in the club just beyond the door.

My mouth hung open, and all I felt was the euphoria.  I fell to my side and pressed my cheek into the filth, pieces of my phone cutting my face.

Guilt. Fear. Panic. Even love…it was all gone.

All I had was…this.

And for now that was enough.

Deleted Scene from Find You in the Dark

-Takes place while Maggie and Clay are in North Carolina-

Living life on the run wasn’t nearly as interesting as I thought it would be. Actually, it was pretty freaking boring.

And I swore if I had to watch another re-run of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, I’d lose my mind.  Rapping the lyrics to the opening song wasn’t nearly as fun as it used to be.

The dingy hotel room smelled stale and it was uncomfortably warm.  I had opened the window to let in some air but the overpowering stench of diesel from the highway wafted in and made me want to gag.

I was getting cranky. And frustrated.  And my entire focus was on not becoming bitterly resentful of the boy I had followed into this hell. Particularly when he seemed entirely too happy about our less than ideal situation.

“Get up, Maggie,” Clay said, coming out of the bathroom, his dark hair wet and slicked back from his shower.

I barely looked up from my now normal perch on the bed.  I flipped through the channels, finally settling on Maury Povich.

Clay tossed his towel over the desk chair and snatched the remote control from my hands, turning off the television.

“But now I’ll never know who the father of Darleen’s baby is,” I whined.

Clay smirked. “I think you’ll live. Now get up, get a shower, and get dressed. We’re going out.”

I let out a deep sigh.  “But what if someone sees us,” I reasoned, though I couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of leaving the confines of the four walls of my prison.

“We’ll be fine. But I can’t take seeing you like this. I hate seeing you sad.  I need your smile, Mags. It’s what keeps me going.”  Clay leaned down and kissed my mouth and like every time he touched me, I instantly responded.

I tried to wrap my arms around his neck but he chuckled against my lips and untangled himself from my embrace.  “Uh, uh.  We’re not starting that either.”  He playfully smacked my thigh.  “Come on. I want to take a drive.”

I grumbled under my breath but did as he asked. I got myself up and in the shower, not lingering too long under the warm spray.

Once I had dried my hair, put on minimal makeup and dressed myself in jeans and a sweater, I slid sunglasses over my eyes and followed Clay out to his car.

“Beautiful as always,” he murmured, opening my door for me.  I leaned up on my tiptoes, kissing him again.  I pressed into his body, loving the feel of him against me.  He curled his fingers up into my hair as he ran his tongue along mine.

Clay left me breathless. Always had. And I had feeling he always would.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, pulling away and nuzzling my hairline. His lips danced along the curve of my ear.  I shivered. I couldn’t help it.  He gave me a mischievous grin before closing the door behind me, and heading around to the driver’s side.

Once in the car, Clay turned on the stereo, the soft strains of Placebo drifting from the speakers.  He wore a huge grin, his excitement palpable.  He seemed to buzz with an energy that was both contagious and suddenly disconcerting.

His moods were hard to gauge these last few days.  He was either up or down, there was no in between.  I had to admit, that I missed the in-between.  These extremes were hard to handle and completely exhausting.  It was like being in love with the Energizer Bunny on crack.

Clay tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove through the sleepy town we were calling our temporary home.  Glass Lake was quaint in that dying a slow death sort of way. But it wasn’t a place I could see myself long term.  Our plans were so transient. We had no real idea of our next step so Clay seemed to be embracing each moment as though it would be snatched from his fingers at any second.

He loved me intensely.  He held me as if he’d never let go.  He kissed me as though he couldn’t get enough.

It thrilled me.

And it terrified me.

“Where are we going?” I asked as Clay continued out of town, turning onto a winding country road surrounded by farmland.

He shrugged.  “Does it matter?” he asked nonchalantly.

I tried not to dwell on the disquiet his off handed comment uncoiled in my belly.  I forced a smile onto my face.

“I think country roads are the same wherever you are,” I mused, looking out my window at the cows and stalks of corn.

Clay’s hand curved around the back of my neck, his other still gripping the wheel.  “This country road is better than most, though,” he said.

“Why is that?” I asked, leaning into his touch before he dropped his hand.

“Because it’s our road to somewhere,” he replied simply.

“Our road to somewhere?” I asked, not understanding.

Clay nodded. “Wherever we go, wherever we end up, we’ll get there…together.  So think of this as the path to our future, one country road at a time.”

How could I argue with such a beautiful sentiment?

We were quiet for a while after that, me with a dopey grin on my face and Clay looking happier than I could ever remember seeing him.

And just like that, it started to change.

Like gathering storm clouds, Clay’s mood began to alter.  Twisting and turning like the road in front of us.

He started to take the turns at a speed that made my stomach leap into my throat. The fields flew by, a blur outside my window.  Clay was still grinning that heart melting smile that I loved so much but now it was tainted by the growing discomfort in my gut.

“Don’t you think you should slow down, Clay?” I asked, gripping my seat as we hurled forward.

Clay ignored my obvious anxiousness.

“I want to marry you,” he said suddenly and without preamble.

My eyes almost popped out of my head.  “Well, I’m not exactly dressed for it,” I joked, feeling faintly sick as the car’s speed increased.  I pressed my back into the seat and closed my eyes, but it made the nausea that much worse.  I had a feeling that I was going to puke all over Clay’s clean interior.

And it wouldn’t just be from my carsickness.

“Not now, Mags.” Clay chuckled, his laughter tinged with an edge that had me worried.

“But some day. Soon, I hope,” he continued softly.

He reached across the seat and took my hand, lacing his fingers through my rigid ones.  He lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles, his lips soft on my cold skin.

“You’re it for me, baby.  I have never felt this way in my entire life. I would jump off a mountain if you asked me to. I would swim through an ocean of sharks, just to get to you.”

I laughed nervously, not liking the intensity of his eyes or the erratic movements of his hands on the wheel.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’d never ask you to do either of those things.  I’m good with dinner and a movie,” I remarked dryly, pulling my hand from his.  “Uh, seriously Clay, can you slow down a bit, I think I’m going to throw up,” I warned, knowing I had to look a little green.

“Sorry, Maggie.” Clay was contrite and I was relieved when the car ceased its insane pace.

I rolled the window down and felt a tiny bit better with the cold air on my face.

“Will you marry me, Maggie? Build a life with me? Be with me for the rest of our lives?” Clay asked sincerely and the need to vomit returned.

“That’s a really romantic proposal there, Clay,” I said sarcastically. “Somehow I never pictured being asked that particular question while in your car as I’m trying to swallow down stomach acid,” I bit out, a little annoyed by his careless questions.

Was he being for real?  With everything going on it was just too much.

And with uncharacteristic girliness, I dreamed of a better marriage proposal than that.

My response was obviously not what Clay wanted to hear.  He turned the volume of the stereo up, the angry beat of Halestorm abusing my eardrums.  I looked over at my boyfriend and felt my stomach drop into my shoes.

He was pissed.

Really, really pissed.

I reached out and touched his arm but he jerked away, causing the car to careen off the road before he righted us furiously.  “I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’m sorry, Clay,” I pleaded.

“I put my heart at your feet and you throw it back in my face. What the fuck, Maggie? I want you! Only you! I will never want anyone else! But I don’t think you feel the same way! If I weren’t in the picture, I’m sure you’d be with someone else. Who would it be, Maggie? Who?” he yelled, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel.

“No one, Clay! You’re being ridiculous!” I yelled back, fear and annoyance bleeding together.

“What about that fucker, Jake? You’d make a nice couple, don’t you think?” Clay seethed.  He took the next turn too sharply and his car sideswiped a mailbox. The scrape of metal on metal made me cringe.

“Clay, you’re going to wreck your car!” I shouted, trying to break through his irrational behavior.

“Do you think I give a shit if I total this fucking thing? I hate this car!” he screamed, his foot pressing down on the accelerator.

We were going to die!

I was sure of it.

My heart began to thud in my chest in a rhythm that made it hard to breathe.

“Slow down, Clay,” I said, trying to be calm.

“This car is everything I hate! It represents everything I never had!” Clay went on, heedless of how dangerous he was acting.

What was he talking about?

“This was my parents’ kiss off! Don’t you get it, Maggie? This beautiful car…this awesome piece of machinery was to shut me up so I would leave them alone! It’s a state of the art mind fuck! I hate it! I want to drive it into the bottom of a fucking lake! Maybe I should! Maybe I should get rid of this thing once and for all!” Clay was becoming hysterical.

“Clay, you’re going to kill us both! Slow down!” I yelled.

I looked at the speedometer and saw that Clay was driving over 100 miles an hour.

“I have nothing, Maggie! I don’t have a family! I don’t have a home! If my parents had their way I wouldn’t even have my freedom! And one day I’ll lose you! I know I will! And that will kill me, Maggie! I can’t lose you! I’d rather die!” Clay grit his teeth and stared straight ahead but I wasn’t sure he was even seeing the road.

I wanted to touch him but I got the feeling that would be a bad move right now.

“You’ll never lose me, Clay.  I promise!” I implored, trying to focus on Clay and not the world racing outside the window or the feeling of impending doom that left me paralyzed with fear.

“Promises don’t mean shit, Maggie! People always break their promises,” he threw back angrily.

“Not me, Clay! Not ever! Please! Just slow down!” I screamed

Clay suddenly turned the wheel, sending the car into the ditch. The front half drove into the field of corn and then we stopped.  I was flung forward and I threw my hands out to stop me from hitting the dashboard.

Before I could figure out what the hell had happened, I was conscious of the sounds of Clay’s weeping.  He had folded his arms over the steering wheel and buried his face in the fabric of his jacket, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Without a second thought, I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled over the center console.  I awkwardly wrapped my arms around Clay, laying my cheek on the top of his head.  His hair was wet with sweat and he shook as I held him.

He didn’t say a word.  He just let me hold him.  And soon my own tears began to fall.  I was crying for Clay. And for me. And for everything we’d never have. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking that ours was a story with a happily ever after.

Not for us.

So we cried together on that country road that would never lead to the future we wanted.

Because our tale wasn’t destined to end that way.