Runaway ✔

121 • Maddox

For the third evening in a row, the food was getting cold. The ticking of the silver cutlery against the porcelain plate was the only sound breaking the silence. The smell of the roasted goose was losing its intensity, just like the two candles that were melting down until only nubs remained. 

What should have been a romantic dinner, had turned into a bitter evening meal. 

His bitterness also influenced his taste. The meal should have tasted excellent, but the loneliness nested inside his stomach like a pulsating ulcer. It wasn't like he'd had company during dinners in the months before, but he hadn't counted on it either. 

And now he had.

She had promised him to come home, right after the funeral. 

And he had taken her word on it. Why wouldn't he? Honesty had always been a priority within their relationship. At least from his side. 

But two days had passed since the funeral. The first night he'd given her the benefit of the doubt, and the second day he'd tended to do it again. Now he however realized she wasn't coming back.

Even though he'd kept things civilized. He'd picked the man with whom he had a score to settle, someone who had hurt him personally. Instead, he also could have aimed the trigger at her exotic lover. But no, he didn't want to give in to something as banal as jealousy. However, if she continued this way, she would leave him no choice. 

Maddox took a sip from the red whine and wiped his mouth with a white napkin. Then he shoved back his chair and glanced at the clock. Half past eight. There was still a chance she was late.

. . .

At eleven Maddox realized she really wouldn't come back today. Turmoil swirled through his body. What was she up to? Did she want him to blow up the clubhouse? That he ordered his men to storm Charming? He never wanted to draw too much attention. He had tried to solve this in a polite and professional way, but now he was really losing his patience. He started to grow tired of this game. He just wanted her here, to feel her broiling skin underneath his lips. And more than anything, he wanted to be inside her. 

All this time he had stayed true to her, even though he knew she hadn't. He knew other women would only disappoint him. He wanted her, only her. It had always been that way and that longing would never go away. It was a desire that grew stronger every day, it made his brain buzzing and distracted him from work. It was tormenting him, killing him... and despite the hurt he loved it. The grasp she had on him was unnatural, as if his heart was only beating for her. 

He would never give her up. 

Never.

It was time to push her a bit more into his direction. He sat down behind his laptop, searched for the e-mail address of the garage where she was hiding and sent them an e-mail with a print screen of the message she sent him. A picture of her friend, right after she killed him. His fingers floated above the keyboard, before he typed: You always offer shelter to murderers? I can give you a hint about the next one she will aim her weapon on? 😉 

With a smirk he pressed the send-button. Her phone number above the picture would be enough to make them realize she had been the one killing their buddy, right?