Page 23 of Born into Darkness

Cupping his face, I kiss his forehead again and say, “Thank you for saving me. I’m so sorry this is what it cost, though.”

His body trembles, and I worry that he might be going into shock. I can’t see him. I can’t see anything in this pitch-black darkness, and I want to scream at how helpless I feel. I don’t know how to fix him. I don’t know what I can do to lessen the pain, and I don’t know how long he can survive with his hand like this.

“At least they didn’t get my thumb,” he says, and I let out a shaky breath and nod, even though he can’t see it.

“Mateo stopped them,” I say. “I don’t know what he said to his dad, but he convinced him to stop.”

Gently guiding his head so it’s resting in my lap, I run my fingers through his hair and lean my back against the hard wall. Despite the heat that I can feel radiating off of him, his body still trembles.

“I need you to hang on, Max. I know it hurts, but I need you to fight through it and stay with me.” My voice shakes as another sob escapes. “Please don’t die.”

“Trying not to,” he says, and the pain in his voice is so palpable I can feel its presence all around us. A physically fit person would’ve been knocked on their ass at having four fingers dislocated, but he didn’t go into this in peak condition. He went into it after almost seven weeks of captivity and abuse. The odds are not good. Too many things can go wrong, and without medical attention, I don’t know how long he can last.

His body relaxes, head tilting slightly to the side, and I know he’s passed out. The steady sound of his breathing is the only thing that keeps me from screaming. Resting my hand against the top of his head so I can keep touching him without disturbing the few precious moments of relief he’s going to get, I close my eyes and beg whoever may be listening to please spare Max’s life and to help us get the hell out of here.

My eyes jerk open at the gut-wrenching groan that Max gives. He’s curled in on himself, but the light is still out, and I can’t see him or how bad his hand has gotten. I remember when Dima dislocated a finger playing football in high school and how unbelievably painful it was for him. Max’s bones may not have been broken, but they were forced out of alignment. The ligaments were most likely torn, and now his bones are pressing against nerve endings, causing a relentless, agonizing sort of pain that’s not going to let up. I imagine it’s the kind of pain that would slowly drive a person insane.

“I’m right here,” I say, lying down next to him and cradling my body around his so I’m hugging his back against my chest.

“The pain,” he groans as fresh tears run down my cheeks at hearing him suffer.

“I’m so sorry, Max. I’m right here, though, and I’m not going anywhere. Our families are coming for us, and they’ll get you to a doctor who can fix your hand, and I’ll help you any way that I can. Then, when you’re all better, you’re going to play me that song you promised me, okay?”

He lets out a moan at my words, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the pain or because the memory of the promise hurts him too much to think about, but I need him to cling to something, and my song is the first thing that popped in my head, so that’s what I use.

“You promised me,” I say, resting my face next to his so our cheeks are touching and I’m spooning his much larger body from behind.

“I don’t know if I can.” His words are nothing but a shaky whisper, but I hear every one of them, and it makes me cling to him even tighter.

“You will,” I say, putting all the determination I can into those words, willing him to believe me. “We’re getting out of here, Max. I didn’t just meet you for you to be ripped away from me. I won’t allow that to happen. I refuse to let you go, and I want to hear my song. No one’s ever written me a song before. You’ve gotten my hopes up about it, so I’m not letting you go back on your word.”

I scoot my arm under his head so he can use it as a pillow and keep my cheek pressed against his, not wanting to lose contact with him. I’m not sure if it’s his tears or mine that I feel, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s alive and still trying to fight to remain that way. That’s all I care about. I meant what I said about being there for him as he recovers. I’ll do whatever he needs me to do to help him through this. It’s because of me that his hand is like this, and I’m not leaving his side unless he tells me to. Even then, I’m not so sure I’d be able to walk away. Max has gotten under my skin and into my heart, and now that he’s here, I don’t ever want him to leave.

I kiss his cheek and try not to worry about how warm his skin still feels. There’s no way to know how much time has passed since we were left alone, but I’m guessing it’s been several hours.

“You can survive this, Max.” I whisper the words against his cheek, feeling the scruff of his beard on my skin. “I know you can.”

His soft moan lets me know he’s at least coherent enough to still understand me. The pain must be all-consuming, and since it’s impossible for me to take it from him, I decide to try and take him out of it.

“Did I tell you about the time Allie and I tried to sneak off the property?” Knowing he needs to save his strength, I don’t wait for an answer. I just keep talking while I hold him. I tell him all about the time I was seventeen and the break for freedom that was always doomed to fail.

“Allie wanted to go to a party in the city,” I say, “and I wasn’t about to let her wander off alone. My brothers caught us before we’d even stepped a toe off the property. We were trying to figure out how to scale the eight-foot fence when Dima stepped out of the woods with Bran right behind him.”

I give a soft laugh at the memory.

“They were furious. Bran might not be able to yell at me with a voice, but he ripped me a new one in sign language, and the guilt I felt was more than enough to ensure I never tried anything like it again.”

“Good,” Max says, the word clipped and barely more than a whisper, but I hear it all the same. “Not safe,” he adds.

I kiss his cheek. “I know. I never seriously tried to make a break for it. Deep down, I knew there were reasons for the precautions my family took. My dad isn’t a dramatic person. He’s not the type to have that kind of security without having a good reason for it.”

With nothing but my touch to guide me, I run my fingers over the side of his face, trying to soothe him while memorizing every line of his face. “Believe me, Max, I’d give anything for us to be safely behind that fence right now.”

When I lift up to adjust myself, he reaches back with his uninjured hand to grab onto my thigh. “Don’t go.”

My heart breaks at the desperation and pain that still laces every word he speaks.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise him. After readjusting my arm and making sure he’s as comfortable as possible, I lay my head back down next to his. “I’m not leaving you, and Miguel is going to have to go through me to get to you. I won’t allow that bastard to hurt you again.”

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