Page 80 of Rules

Will I ever find this kind of peace?

My hand reaches forward, lingering above him.

What now, Brook?I close my eyes, my hand rubbing my face.Are you just going to stand here like a creep? Like…

I curse under my breath, but it’s too late. The flashbacks are back. The memories I pushed back only seconds ago come back to the surface.

I can feel somebody standing above me. I try to pretend I’m asleep, although I know it’s useless. He knows I’m awake. I stay still, my heart beating strongly against my chest to the point I think he can hear it too. He comes closer, his shadow falling over me. His hand grips my shoulder, making my whole body jerk as he pulls me toward him.

“Brook,” Max rasps, softly sitting up. “Is everything okay?”

His voice is soothing, but I’m stuck halfway between past and present not knowing how to get out. I look at him, but I don’t see him through my hazy gaze.

I open my mouth but no words come out at first. With eyes glued to the spot over his shoulder, I wet my lips and try again.

“H-he’s in there. When I close my eyes, I can see him.” I blink and can feel a tear slide down. “I-I c-can’t be a-alone.”

When did I start crying again?I brush the tear away, but more follow.Maybe I never stopped.

The bed creaks as Max gets up, a confused scowl between his brows. “Who’s there?”

A strangled cry breaks out of my lungs as I shake my head no. There is no way I’m saying his name out loud. He’s like a deep, dark, dirty secret that I buried ages ago. I can’t say his name because if I do, there would be no going back. It would be like opening Pandora’s box. And I’m not ready to face it. Face him and all the ugly, painful memories that are associated with him. I’m not that strong, and I’m not sure I ever will be.

Max comes closer slowly, like he’s nearing a wounded animal. I blink a few times, clearing my vision. His hands are curled into fists by his side, and I can see unease in his eyes.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I here? Max doesn’t need shit like this in his life. He doesn’t need me holding him back.

“T-this was a bad idea,” I stutter out, wiping away my tears. “I should go.”

I turn around but don’t get far, because his hands are on me, pulling me back into him. My back to his chest, his big arms wrap around me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, my body breathes in relief. That’s all it takes. Just one touch from him and I’m a melted mess.

“Don’t leave,” Max whispers in my ear, his hot breath touching my earlobe. My nerves react to his closeness, soft, warm tingles spreading through my body. I lean into his touch, my hands curling over his and holding on for dear life.

I should go; I know I should. I have no business here, but no matter how many times I tell myself that, my body doesn’t listen. I crave him. Crave his touch. Because when I’m in his arms, it feels like all the bad goes away. It feelssafe. The whole world dulls, and it’s just him and me and nothing bad can touch me.

“Don’t cry, Firecracker.” His hold on me tightens, and I can feel his lips press against the side of my head. “Your tears are killing me.”

“I-I d-don’t even kno-ow why I’m crying.” I sniff loudly. Turning in his arms, I press my face into his chest.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m stronger than this. I’ve lived through hell and I’ve survived. Only now, the devil seems to be back and he’s not leaving me alone.

“Shhh…” I didn’t think it’s possible, but he’s holding on to me even tighter, his hand caressing my back tenderly. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

I didn’t even realize I said it out loud, but apparently I did.

“It’s just too much. I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had it under control.” My voice breaks.

“What happened was fucked up, Brook.” He pulls back just enough so he can see my face. One rough palm cradles my cheek as his forehead touches mine. “It’s okay not to be strong. It’s okay to break and let other people hold on to you for a little while.”

I shake my head. I learned early on that the only person you can rely on is yourself. I don’t know how to let go. How do I trust somebody so deeply to let them know my darkest secrets? And even if I did know how, I wouldn’t want to. I wouldn’t want to taint them the way those secrets taint me.

“C’mere.” Max pulls back, and as soon as our contact breaks, I miss his touch. But then he takes those few short steps and climbs back onto his bed, and once he’s settled, he pats his lap, inviting me to join him.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I do as he asks. Straddling his thick thighs, I settle in his lap. Max takes my hands in his. He looks at them, his finger tracing the fine lines on my palms. There is intensity and concentration so deep in his stare, like he thinks he’ll find the answers to all my secrets if he concentrates hard enough. Finally, he intertwines our fingers between us, his lips brushing against the back of my hand.

“I’m strong enough to carry your darkness, Brook,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. “Let me.”

I close my eyes. Am I actually thinking of letting him in? Actually thinking of telling him? I only tried to confide in somebody about what happened once, and it backfired tremendously. Yet… when he looks at me like that—with patience and care written all over his face—I want to tell him. I want to believe in him.

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