Lotte's heart leaped in her chest. His hand felt clammy in hers, but it was hard to tell who was to blame for that. Actually she wanted to drag him out of the clubhouse. Whatever would be in that box – it would break him. And he had already gone through a lot. Every time she looked into these defeated eyes, another piece of her heart crumbled. Oh, how she wished she could help him. Really help him.
"Maybe you shouldn't play along," she suggested softly. "And throw it into the trash." The suggestion made her cramp inside – if Maddox heard her words, she would pay heavily for it. But she couldn't stand it any longer, she knew the man would destroy him – even more than he had already done.
"I can't," he muttered. "What if her head is in it? I can't dump it in the trash, right? Maybe one of the guards killed her, out of self-defense."
Tears filled her eyes. She didn't add another word and laid a hand on his back as he took the box from Chucky and carried it inside. As he put it on the table, she bit her lip. His hands were shaking as he cut the tape with a knife.
"You want me to look first?"
It was a pointless question – there was no way around this. But she just didn't know what to do anymore, she felt so powerless. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to protect him from more grief. It however weren't her arms he needed, that he wanted.
He didn't answer while his hands moved across the box. With brute force he opened it. Lotte didn't look at the contents, instead she monitored his face. His eyes widened, his lips trembling.
A paralyzing feeling spread through Lotte's body. Then he started to scream – to squeal. It sounded bestial, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, and his cries chilled her to the bone. His legs collapsed, he dropped on the ground and kept sitting on his knees, his shoulders shaking, screaming like the devil had gotten into him. Running footsteps sounded, some of his brothers knelt beside him, shouting what was going on.
Lotte's eyes were drawn to the box which was spreading a sickening smell. Between the cardboard flaps she saw skin, a small torso. Little legs. "Oh God," she whispered.
Immediately she put a hand over her mouth, but it didn't stop her from vomiting. Her stomach contents splattered on the ground. Her ears were ringing – and right through the noise she heard his sobs, the desperate cries.
Through the blur of tears she noticed how Kozik had knelt beside him. His voice sounded deceptively calm, but Lotte knew that none of his words would dawn on him. She crouched down next to him, wrapped her arms around Juice and rocked him softly, like he was an inconsolable child.
A child... Her eyes shot back to the box. His child was in it. Dead.
Again bile gathered in her throat. Squeezing her eyes, she pressed her face against his shoulder as she was crying too. Even after everything Maddox had done, she couldn't believe that he was capable of such cruelty. Taking an innocent life, to punish Juice for... for what? For the love for a woman who he had already lost.
. . .
Two hours passed, and Juice didn't say a single word. Kozik called the police and surrendered the little corpse to them. Juice didn't even notice, he had completely gone away inside. He was just a shell filled with grief. In shock he stared forward, not being able to respond to anything.
"Will you stay with him tonight?" Kozik asked. His voice sounded hoarse, although she hadn't seen him cry.
Lotte nodded quietly and followed the men outside. Kozik and Bobby were supporting Juice, who couldn't even lift his feet anymore. She sat down on the backseat while Kozik sat down behind the wheel and drove to Juice's apartment. Never did she think that this would be the way to get inside.
When she asked Juice for his keys, he didn't answer. After Kozik helped him out of the car, Lotte quickly searched his pockets until she had found the keys. The door was cracking as she swung it open. Lotte felt cold as she entered the dark house. Juice and Kozik stumbled inside, just a few steps behind her. Now and then she heard how Kozik tried to get through to his friend, but he wasn't responsive. All he did, was staring forward, moving slowly and choppy – like a machine. Like someone whose emotions had died.
As soon as Kozik had laid him on the bed, Juice rolled on his side. Lotte sat down next to him to take off his shoes and Kozik was getting a glass of water and a few pills.
"He'll pass out with this." Kozik looked at her, hesitating.
"And then?"
"I have no idea." The man rubbed his eyes, his shoulders slumped down in defeat. "I really don't know what to do. How the hell he should ever recover from this."
Lotte bent her head. There was only one person who could help him right now – the one who knew exactly how he was feeling. This shared grief connected their souls even more than before, strengthening their bond – and their pain.
Kozik put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for looking after him tonight. I'll be back tomorrow morning."
Lotte nodded blankly. She looked at Juice; the pills Kozik had forced him to take were effective. He had fallen asleep – or maybe he was unconscious, she didn't know.
Only when the front door closed, she dared to bent over Juice and kiss his lips very lightly. "I'm sorry baby. You deserve so much better."
After those words she went to the hallway, grabbed her phone and scrolled down until she had found the right contact. Sitting down on the stairs, she waited until he took the call without saying anything.
"I'm in his apartment."
"Good." His voice sounded cold, causing a stab in her stomach. "You know what to do."
"I do," she whispered with shaking lips.
If she wouldn't do it, she would be the next one receiving a box with a dead family member.