Page 50 of Obey

I don’t fucking know why. This is the real Maddox. The one who’s petty and stupid and cowardly and doesn’t give two shits about me. It’s good that I got this reminder.

He snorts in derision. “Yeah, okay. That’s what you keep telling yourself. You could’ve just stood guard, if I was making a stupid decision, instead of getting involved. And you shouldn’t have?—”

He cuts himself off, shaking his head.

“Shouldn’t have what, Maddox?” I demand. “Shouldn’t have fucking what?”

“You know,” he says, but he doesn’t sound steady or sure.

It’s so fucking hard to breathe, with the humidity and the damp clothes and the anger.

That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

We go back to walking in silence, but the tension is as high as ever. I know it’s only a matter of time before one of us explodes.

“This is all your fucking fault,” he says, suddenly his exasperation as palpable as the humid air. “I was going to attack. You signaled for me to stop and take your fucking lead while you did absolutely fucking nothing.”

“Walk me through your version of it then.” I step over a log and almost slip on the other side. “The one where you somehow Rambo’d your way through all five of ‘em in an enclosed space and didn’t end up with ten bullets in you in the first second.”

“You mean as opposed to the bullet I did end up taking?” He shoots a glare at me. “Yeah. I really got out of this unscathed in every scenario.”

“Well, fucking sorry I managed to get us out alive!” I raise my hand to show annoyance, only for Maddox’s arm to get jerked with me.

“You didn’t get us out alive. We both figured into that, thank you very fucking much,” he says. “And watch all your fucking gesturing before you yank my other arm out of its socket. Which would be exactly what we need right the fuck now, don’t you think?”

We’re going around in circles. In the swamp, probably, but also with these arguments. I should be the bigger man, but the resentment festers inside me, and I refuse to be blamed for doing my fucking job and protecting him.

“Don’t worry,” I growl. “Once we’re home, I’ll tell Silvano I’ll fucking quit rather than keep working with you. I’d be comfortable at home right now if it weren’t for you.”

“I wish you were,” he retorts. “We’d have already been done if it was anyone else. But no. You had to make this difficult. You had to be so fucking secretive about everything because you don’t trust me over something that happened when we were kids. Do you understand how fucking immature you have to be to still be holding that against me?”

And here we are again, back to what it always comes down to.

“Yeah, it’s so easy to get over it when you got out unscathed!” I sneer at him. “I sat in jail for nearly eight fucking years, and I was a ‘kid’ too! You think any of the guards cared? You think the other inmates cared?” I jab him in the chest. “So yeah, I’m not over it, because you fucking ruined my life.”

“Because I was a stupid kid!” he yells, losing control of his emotions. “I was scared, and I panicked, and then the longer I went without visiting you because I was so afraid of what you thought of me, the harder it got to go, until you were out and you hated me and fuck, I don’t think you hate me half as much as I hate myself for not being there with you!”

The confession—and the pain in Maddox’s eyes—makes my chest tighten uncomfortably. I feel my resolve crumble, but I don’t want to give in just because he’s pretending to care.

“No fucking wonder you were ready to go out in a blaze of bullets,” I snap. “Glad I didn’t let you drag me down with you.”

Maddox’s expression morphs into a glare, but he shakes his head. “Fine. Think what you want.” He glances at the sky. “We’ve got a few minutes of daylight left. Let’s just find some fucking place to hunker down where we won’t get killed by gators.”

We’re probably more likely to get devoured by mosquitos, but I don’t argue. At least the mud on our skin provides a layer of protection against the bugs.

Now if only I could get something protecting my heart, too.

THIRTEEN

MADDOX

It’s a stretch to call our hiding spot a clearing. It’s more like a tangle of roots and low branches that is semi comfortable to lie on. It’s off the ground, at least, and after we add some foliage—carefully checked for bugs—we settle in.

Of course, it’s too narrow for both of us to stretch out comfortably, and we’re limited in what positions we can take thanks to the manacles. We’re filthy, it’s humid, my clothes are still damp, and now I’ve got his body pressed against mine.

By comparison, sharing a bed was a breeze.

“I’m going to be sore in the morning and I won’t even have an orgasm to show for it,” Knives mutters.

---