Page 130 of Bitter Lies

Griffin tied him to a chair, with his wrists and ankles zip-tied to the wooden slats, and I give half a thought to just calling the police, but much like Griffin, I want Max to see the light, and a criminal record isn’t going to help.

Sitting on the couch, I hold a bag of frozen peas to my aching head, glancing up when Griffin sits beside me and says, “What happened?”

Leaning back with a sigh, I ignore the vitriol spewing from his mouth and wince as the cold hits my bruise. “Drugs.”

“Ha!” Max sneers, turning his head, but he can’t see us from the angle in which he’s sitting.

“What?” Griffin steps around to face Max as he stares at him with wide eyes. “Drugs?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Max bellows. “You chose her.”

I flinch and look away as Griffin frowns, shaking my head wearily as Max continues, his voice broken. “Her.”

“Max, what are you saying? You’re my best friend, bro.”

“No! We’re not friends. No!” Max says although his words are indistinct, garbled by the sobs choking his throat.

“Max-“

Max’s head shoots up and Griffin’s eyes widen as they stare at each other before Max says quietly, “I love you.”

Griffin eyes him with a confused stare before the light dawns and he drops his gaze, rubbing his temple. “Max, I love you like a brother. But…I’m not…into dudes. You know that.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he sniffles, “but why her?”

“Because,” Griffin says, looking at me with a soft expression. “it’s always been her.”

Sitting back down next to me on the couch, he raises a brow, and I smile tremulously, before collapsing in his arms when he opens them wide.

His breath tickles my ear and I shiver as he says, “I’m sorry.”

With a small smile that contains a lifetime of my pain, I lean into him and sigh. “I’m sorry, too.”

∞∞∞

Eventually, my parents show, but not before we listen to hours of Max raging and sobbing where more than once he blathers about how I’m to blame for basically everything.

I’m a whore.

I’m a liar.

I’m a bitch.

And on and on it goes, interspersed with his undying love for Griffin, whose face turns paler and paler as the hours wear on, until at one point, he stands and says in a guttural tone, “Say one more word about her and I’ll fucking hurt you.”

After which, I pull Griffin away and into my old room, where I sit on the bed, and gaze around at the blank walls. I’m curious about the paintings, but now is hardly the time to bring it up with Max still swearing from the other room.

Wearily, Griffin sits down beside me before pulling me into his arms and lying with me against the pillows. For a while, its quiet but for Max’s sniffles and the occasional outburst.

“I’m sorry,” Griffin says.

“Why?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask because I’ve wondered about it so many times over the years. How did he turn from my kind, gentle friend into the monster that continuously brought me down?

“After your party, Max told me about Bobby. I didn’t believe him at first until I saw him at your house.”

“And?”

His sigh parts my hair, and he clutches me tighter as he stares at nothing before his mouth curls down in a grimace. “I saw you. And I fucking lost my mind. You were the one, Hals and then you weren’t. I fucking hated you. And I hated myself because even knowing you fucked him, I still wanted you until it ate at my fucking soul.”

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