Page 173 of Unorthodox
He just keeps bleeding all over the place, staring at me like he wants to kill me, and I’m sure he does.
But for once, Max Bennett can’t get what he wants.
I can barely hear myself speak as my ears ring, adrenaline pumping through me, but I still manage to say, “Don’t worry,Daddy.I’ll make sure Mamie helps you get cleaned up.” I take another step out into the hallway, putting more distance between us before I get ready to run.
I glance at where I shot him, the left side of his torso drenched in blood, his shirt sticking to his body. I wonder if he’s actually going to die right in front of my eyes.
It’s painful, thinking about it. I feel physically sick.
But his words echo in my head:“I want to fuck with your mind. It gets me off.”
“Addison.” Another warning that I’m happy to ignore.
“You’ll get fixed up before your court date.” I flash him a smile, glance down the hall, toward the stairs. “Doctors youcan’tpay off, they’ll take care of you, Max. And you’ll be okay, I promise.” My eyes lock on his. “It’ll only hurt a little.”
Before I lose my resolve, before he can get off of that floor, I run in bare feet, gun still in my hand as I fly down the fucking stairs.
I don’t needto call for Mamie. I don’t need to say a word to her.
Right now, there’s one guard, and I know she’s taken care of him. The two shots that rang out, our argument in the bedroom—she heard it all.
So, when I get to the front door, nearly crashing into it after flying down the stairs, the gun still in hand, Mamie simply hands me a cell phone and car keys.
I give her the gun, because I can’t stand the thought of holding it a second longer.
“The address is in there.” She nods toward the phone in my hand. “He’s waiting for you.” Her voice is quiet, and she glances up at the stairs, her brow furrowed.
I don’t hear Max, because Max isn’t the kind of guy to call for help. But my heart picks up speed as I think about him dying up there, silent and alone.
It might be better than the alternative. That he’ll come looking for me.
I unlock the door, pull it open quickly, and feel the heat of the summer on my skin as I step onto the front porch, the cement hot beneath my feet.
I turn to Mamie. “I thought he wouldn’t,” I admit, some of my high from what I just did evaporating. “I thought he might…keep me.” Tears well up behind my eyes with those words, and she bites her lip, trying to swallow down her own emotions.
“We betrayed him,” she whispers. “For good reason, but the ‘why’ doesn’t matter to Max.” She nods her head, encouraging me to step toward the stairs of the porch, and I do, backing up but keeping my eyes on hers, my heart shattering into pieces all over again. “He needs someone willing to die for him.” Shrugging, gripping the door, she offers me a small smile. “He’s a scared boy, Addison. And you deserve something far better.”
My chest tightens, and I try not to think about him up there alone. I try not to wonder if he’ll survive.
“Don’t stop for anyone,” Mamie continues as I back down the stairs. “And don’t even think about looking for him. Never come back here.”
My stomach flips, thinking about what’s going to happen to Mamie when I leave here. I stop on the last step, the keys gripped tightly in one hand, the phone in the other.
I see her blue eyes welling up with tears.
She knows what’s going to happen.
She knows, but she isn’t running.
“Come with me,” I whisper, glancing behind her at the polished stairs. I still hear nothing from Max. See nothing. “Come with me and get out of this hell.”
She smiles, her hands on the door, already closing it to. “I can’t leave him,” she says softly, her bottom lip trembling, the fine lines around her mouth deepening as she holds back the tears. “You’ll be okay. Go live, Addison.” Without another word, she closes the door.
I turn back to the cobblestone driveway, see Mamie’s white Honda facing the gate.
I stare out at the gate that’s open, unguarded. Beyond it, a side street lined with trees.
The way to freedom.
