"Get up," he warned, the dark notes of his voice not a loud, striking thing, but something colder and ominous.
A quick tug of his arm had her neck arching back, her hands clawing at the towel because she couldn't breathe through the hot, soaked material. She wanted to scream, to beg him to stop, but drawing in air through the wet fabric was nearly impossible. Panic rose in her, a wild animal caged, her head shaking back and forth in an attempt to find freedom.
Dragging her by the towel wrapped around her head, his footsteps were thunder against her senses, a steady warning beat that said death was soon approaching.
Her fingers were useless against the cloth, the hot water that soaked it burning her skin where it touched. Her body was dragged over the threshold between the carpet of the bedroom and the tile of the bathroom. Max forced her up onto her knees.
"You can breathe, Alice. Stop fighting me and breathe!"
His arm wrapped around her abdomen and she was lifted in the air, the towel still secured where it suffocated her. Her body dropped down onto slippery wet tiles, the shower turned on above her head. More water poured onto the towel to flow down her body, the scalding heat an inferno against her skin.
She bucked and twisted, her mouth open and desperate for air, her mind scrambled by the fear that she'd finally pushed him far enough.
"Are you ready to take a shower now?"
Nodding her head fervently, she started to cry, her lungs burning in her chest from a lack of air.
Relief was given when he removed the wet shroud, a burst of dancing steam dragged into her lungs as she gasped and choked on the freedom he'd returned to her.
A bar of soap was tossed at the floor by her knees, a washcloth slapped down unceremoniously beside it. "Meet me back in the bedroom when you're done."
His steps faded off as he retreated from the room, but stopped short, his deep, cutting voice filling the empty space his lack of steps had left behind. "And be sure to get those places I dirtied up real well, just in case I want to rape you later."
He practically spit the word rape from his mouth, a look of revulsion tightening his features. She wanted to laugh because, despite his disgust with the word, what else could you call it?
The door slammed shut, vibrating the walls, and she was left trembling beneath a spray of water far too hot for her skin. Her fingers slid up the slick tile and found the nozzle. Turning it to the right, she cooled the temperature of the spray, but it didn't help calm her after everything that happened.
Taking the soap in her hands, she sobbed as she rubbed it over the washcloth to spread the suds over her body and clean the places he'd dirtied.
After finishing, she climbed out and squeezed the water from her long hair before tossing the tangled heap to fall down her back and stepping softly into the darkened bedroom.
The sheets that were previously covering the bed were a wrinkled pile on the floor, replaced by a clean, pressed set that was the color of a summer sky.
It was then that she realized Max hadn't lied about his need for everything to be neat and tidy, clean and sterile, controlled and unmarked by the scars and dirt that life left behind.
"Get in bed. I have something I need to do and then I'll join you."
The voice came out of nowhere, causing Alice to flinch at the sudden, unexpected intrusion. Obediently, she climbed onto the massive bed and watched Max leave the room. He didn't appear again until her eyes met the television screen that still glowed a faint light in the room, his large body approaching the woman whose face was still covered.
"No," Alice whispered, her voice hitched in her throat. "Please, no."
Her eyes were trapped to the screen, her attention stuck on a scene she knew would cause her to rage silently, to fill up with an angry, toxic poison that she wouldn’t be allowed to release.
Max approached the woman slowly, her head moving up despite the hood that concealed her face. Reaching out with a tender hand, Max caressed the woman's cheek before dropping to his knees in front of her. His shoulders shook like he was crying, but Alice thought it had to be a trick of her eyes. Angling his head down, he pressed his forehead to her lap, a man begging forgiveness.
Sitting up, Alice watched with rapt attention, her lips parting in shocked silence when the woman's hands moved to run her fingers through his hair. It was an act of forgiveness, a solemn moment...another piece of a puzzle that had no known solution.
Max and the woman stayed in the position for several minutes before Max rose to leave, and when the screen returned to a picture of a lonely woman trapped and broken, Alice breathed out a shaky sigh. Confusion saddled her as a chill slithered up her spine.
What had just happened?