“You have no right to judge me, Maddox. You have no idea what I’m going through right now.” I almost stumble, but he reaches out before I can nosedive to the asphalt.
“Really? Want me to let you in on a little secret? This,” he waves his hand around us, “isn’t even close to being about you. Your best friend is up there with God knows what wrong, and you’re stewing in your own shit. We all have a jacked up past, all of us. You aren’t special because you’ve been fucked over. Do you know how much I would love to have someone solid to share my life with? Both of you girls, running and running. Where exactly will you run when there isn’t anywhere left to go?” His chest is heaving, and his black eyes are just taking me in, judging me without knowing what he’s judging.
“You don’t think I want that? I crave that! But I know better than to ever let someone hurt me again! I will never, NEVER, be at the mercy of another man. I’ll tell you that much, Maddox! You want to stand there and stare at me with those judgy eyes, that’s fine, but you better have all the facts before you condemn me to hell!” His eyes narrow slightly before he gives me a slight nod and starts walking again. “Seriously! Where are you going?”
“Food. You need to eat and calm the hell down. When you’re done eating, we’ll talk.”
Bullheaded, asshat, infuriating MAN!
We’re sitting at a small diner around the corner from the hospital. He’s already had a meal that could feed a small army, while I’ve been picking at everything and anything on my plate. His words from earlier are still slapping me in the face.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
What is it with these damn men and their ability to see right the hell through me? He’s hit the nail right on the head, and I’m silently freaking the hell out. If he can see past my mask right into my deepest hurts, then I’m sure Beck can, too.
“My father used to slap me around. My mother wasn’t as bad, but she was still bad. I’ve had a few boyfriends. All used me and left when they got what they wanted. Some more bad relationships and friendships with men scattered here and there. My track record with female friends isn’t much better. Izzy and Greg are the first real friendships that I’ve ever had in my life. Ever. I don’t trust easily. I don’t really even believe that I could love someone. The last time I felt what I thought was true happiness and love is when Izzy met Brandon.” I continue to move my food around, trying to find the right words. I’m not even really sure what it is about this man that has me opening up, but now that I’ve started, I’m not sure I can stop. We’ve known each other just as long as I’ve known Beck, but there is something about him that makes me feel like he could take my secrets on and lock them tight.
“Izzy’s story isn’t pretty, Maddox. It’s about as bad as you can imagine, and a little worse than that. When she met Brandon, he was a great guy. Hell, I was actually for the first time in my life, rooting for someone to get their happily ever after. But, just like all the other men that have come into my life, his true colors came out. I can’t even remember how long they had been married before it happened. Small things, so insignificant that you only could catch on if you really know the person. I missed the signs. Izzy sure as hell missed the signs.” I stop what I’m doing and look him dead in the eyes. I want him to feel what I’m about to tell him. I have a feeling that is the only way I will gain an ally.
“They hadn’t been married long, maybe a year or two. I was working late, trying to get some last minute stuff done so I could take the following week off. I’m not even sure what I was doing. Anyway, I was alone in the office when I heard something fall in the backroom. I know what you’re thinking. Stupid little female taking off to check on the bump in the night. Oh, how stupid I was. I had just enough time to turn my head before I caught the first slap. He didn’t hit to leave marks; he just hit to hurt enough to get his point across. Ten minutes of hell, absolute hell. That was the day that I realized there really weren’t any good men left. My best friend’s husband beat the shit out of me for ten long minutes. I counted. Do you know how many seconds are in ten minutes? Six hundred. The last thing he said to me before he gave me one more kick in the ribs was to stay away from Izzy, or he would kill her. And you know what? I believed he would do it, so I left my friend alone with that monster.”
When I finish, I drop my fork, jumping when it makes a loud clatter against the plate and table before falling onto the floor with a loud bang. I’ve never told a soul that story. Now that the words actually left my lips, I want to grab them, shove them back in, and pretend that this conversation, as one-sided as it is, never happened. The only sliver of relief I feel right now is that I didn’t tell him everything.
“You’ve had a lot of shit in your life.” Well, leave it to Maddox to break it down like that.