Ray Maddox — First Person
I disappear for three days.
No texts. No calls. Not from her. Not to her.
I drive until I'm out of the city. Strip off the mask, toss it out the window, and let whatever darkness has been crawling under my skin finally breathe.
First night:
Bar. Whiskey. Blood on my knuckles from a guy who touched what wasn't his. I wanted him to be her dad. Or mine. Or anyone else telling me who the hell I can love.
Second night:
Tattoo parlor at 3AM. Black ink. Sharp sting. A wolf with her initials on my ribs. It's a stupid move. I don't care. It's permanent. Just like her.
Third night:
I don't sleep. I end up on the rooftop of some hotel I don't remember checking into. Shirtless. Cigarette dangling from my lips. City lights blur beneath my boots.
My phone buzzes.
It's Maddox Sr.
"Get your ass back. You're making headlines."
I laugh.
Let them watch.
Let them see the empire fall if it means not having to lie every second of my life.
But I do go back.
Why? Because I know her father's got people everywhere. Because if I'm gone too long, he'll get bold enough to touch her future. Control her harder. Scare her deeper.
I can't protect her from the outside.
So I walk into class the next morning like nothing happened.
Leather jacket. Bruises still on my jaw. Eyes dead cold.
And there she is.
Sky Valen.
In her blazer.
Hair slicked back.
Nails pristine.
Lipgloss back on.
Fake perfection.
Like she didn't cry the last time I touched her.
Like she didn't leave scratches on my back begging me not to let go.
She doesn't look at me.
Not once.
Good.
Because if she did—if she showed anything—I'd pull her into the closest closet and undo every fucking inch of control she's trying to hold onto.
They said "stay away."
Well, I listened.
But now I'm back.
And when I fall this time—I'm taking everything with me.