Fighter

Ch. 22

I put my phone away after deciding I'd call Chris later tonight and tell him about everything. Well, not everything. I don't ever want to think about what happened with Jason and I know if I tell Chris he won't ever let me forget it.

"We need to talk." Maddox says and I hear the tension in his voice. I look at him and see he's not happy about something.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried.

"It's about what Chris wants to tell you, what he found on the internet about me and my family."

"All right." I reply, confused.

"When I told you my dad passed, I didn't tell you the whole story." He lets out a deep breath. "My mother's dead too, she shot my dad then herself." He said it so calmly, like it was normal.

"Oh my, God. I'm so sorry." I pull my hand up covering my mouth. How can he sit here so passively and talk about his dead parents like he's talking about the weather?

"It was murder suicide." He states.

"How old were you?" I ask, horrified by what he just said.

"Eleven." He replies.

"Why did you only say your father was dead?" I ask.

"I don't have a mother." He shakes his head. "I never want to acknowledge that she was my mother after what she did, so I don't." He answers, shrugging his shoulders.

"Maddox." I say, softly as I rub his arm. "I'm so sorry. I'll tell Chris to never talk about it." I tell him, reassuringly.

"There's more." He adds.

"More?" I ask, weakly.

"I found them." I hear his voice become detached as he continues. "I went into the library to tell my dad I got an A on the math test he helped me study for. When I walked in, I saw my father's body face down in a pool of blood. I didn't have to turn to see my mother, she was right beside him with half of her head blown off. The blood was everywhere. I stood there for three hours in my own piss looking at and smelling my dead parents. I was numb. I couldn't move, talk or feel. When our cook came to find us for dinner, he pulled me out of the room and called the police."

I can't say anything, I'm in shock. I feel like grieving for the little boy. No wonder he doesn't want to ever feel numb, he stood for three hours with his dead parents feeling that way, tying not to feel their deaths. I would fight that memory as hard as he does if it were me. I can't stop the tears. I sit crying silently until we pull into the diner parking lot. When Maddox looks over he sees my tears.

"Don't cry." He's orders, brushing away my tears with his thumbs. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to hear that from Chris."

"Don't be sorry, I should be sorry. Chris and I basically forced you to tell me about your parents. It shouldn't have been this way." I respond, looking at my hands in my lap. I can't make eye contact with Maddox. I'm so ashamed of myself and Chris.

"Kitten, I want you to know everything about me. It's just not something I like to talk about. Please, don't be upset."

"Stop comforting me, I don't deserve it." I say, even more disgusted with myself. I should be comforting him not the other way around. I look up at him and throw myself at him hugging him tightly.

He holds me and buries his face in my neck. "It was a long time ago, Kitten."

"So, I'm a fur ball then? Kitten?" I question, smirking at the nickname he's chosen for me.

"Yes, but a beautiful fur ball." He replies, kissing my cheek.

"I'm so going to give you a nickname you'll hate." I reply, sternly.