Trapped (Maxon and America Love Story)

Chapter 15

Maxon's POV

"Crap," I hear in a whisper. I roll over. America's bed is empty. I sit up and look around. She lays on the floor helplessly trying to get up. Her legs are limp on the floor. She's trying to lift herself up but has failed. I get up and pick her up. "Sorry to wake you," she says avoiding my eyes.

"Not a problem," I say, "anything for you." I set her back down on the little cot. She sits against the wall facing me. She has to pick her legs up to put them in place. Her hands rest in her criss crossed legs. I sit across from her on the floor. She so beautiful from this view. She looks beautiful from every view.

"What time is it?" She asks. I look for a clock in the dark room. "One in the morning. We've been in here for four hours now."

"How long was I out?" She asks.

"Thirteen days." She lets out a sigh. She rubs her temples. Then flinches in pain. I shake my head. I've caused her this pain. It's all my fault.

She slides her legs off the side of the cot. She lifts them then drops them. Her fingers poke at them. They remain limp as they dangle off the side of the bed. I get up to use the bathroom. I splash some water on my face. My eyes are red and puffy. My hair is a mess. It looks like I haven't shaven in days. I have a slight stubble on my face.

I walk back out wiping my wet hands on my shirt. America is against the wall. She breaths hard as she tries to walk. She's stood up, which is a good sign. She lets the wall be her crutch. One of her arms hold her up as she pushes against the wall, to remain balanced. She lifts her hand slowly off the wall. Then puts her hand to her side. Her back is facing towards me. It makes me flinch and always will. Guilt will cover me til the day I die.

She walks around slowly around the room. She starts to walk towards the little cot. As she walks one of her legs give out. I slide over to her and catch her in my arms, before she hits the ground. "I don't need your help," she mumbles rolling out of my arms. She sits across me on the floor. Her eyes look everywhere but mine.

Her fingers draw little doodles on the ground, occupying herself. I can't stand the silence between us. "America I'm sorry. Please," I say, "it's okay if you don't forgive me but at least look at me. Or say a word to me." She lifts her head up and looks into my eyes. "Who is she?" She says emotionlessly.

"Her name is Emily. She is a maid's daughter, who visits her mother here."

"Are you still involved with her still?" She says quietly, returning to her invisible doodling on the floor. "Yes," I choke out. I feel so ashamed right now. She's just woke up from a coma and has to go through this. "Does anybody know that you did this to me? And does anyone know you've cheated on me besides Marlee?"

"Nobody knows I'm the one who do this. Somehow Aspen found out I was cheating on you. Marlee has forgiven me. Everyone knows our child was lost," I say as tears form in my eyes. America sniffles up the tears and blocks her emotions from me. "Is she pregnant?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"Did you do anything with her while I was in a coma?"

"Yes," I say hesitantly. Not wanting her to hear this. She sniffles back more tears, not allowing them to fall. I can tell she still holds something for me, but I don't know what. "Are you planning to tell people what I did to you?" I ask softly. She shakes her head slowly, and a bit hesitantly. "No," she says, "Are you?"

"At some point maybe. Just not now," I say staring into her eyes. She doesn't look at me. "Do you feel guilty at all? For doing this to me, killing our child?"

"A million times worse than you think. Guilt has overwhelmed me. I can't stand to look at myself. I'm disgusted to be in my own body. I just want you to know that am so sorry. I can't express how sorry I am. And I love you and that will never change. America, I love you." She doesn't look at me. I see her swallow back some tears. She takes a deep breath then looks at me. "Could you help me up. I'd like to rest," she says softly.

I delicately pick her up. She is glass and could break at any moment. I tuck her in. I wish I could give her a good night kiss. If I do she'll probably rip my head off. I sit back on the floor. She falls fast asleep.

I walk next to the cot and pull a chair up. If I'm going to get any sleep, I'm going to get some next to America. She lays on her side facing me. I brush a stray hair behind her ear. I kiss the skin on her forehead, "Good night my love," I whisper. I hear her mumble nonsense. I put my ear to her lips. "Maxon?"

"Yes?"

"Maxon."

"Yes my dear."

"Maxon. Help me," she says. "Help. They're getting me. Help," she says in her sleep.

"I wish I could America. I'd do anything to protect you."

"Maxon," she crys out. I feel this is real but her eyes remain closed. "Maxon! Help me! I need you right now." A tear falls out of her eye. I wipe it away. I don't know if I should wake her up or not. She needs rest but doesn't need to be in pain as she sleeps. "Please," she begs, "Maxon! Don't! Get away from me." I stare at her. She's still asleep. "Please Maxon. Don't do this again," she crys. Tears flow out of her eyes. I shake her to wake her up. "America," I say. "No," she whimpers. "America," I say shaking her harder. She starts to kick away. "America," I yell shaking her harder.

Her eyes burst open as tears run down her face. She screams and kicks away from me. She won't stop screaming. She gets as far away as she can get from me. She's curled up into a ball with tears streaming out of her eyes, screaming. "America it's all right. You're safe," I say rubbing her arm. "It's alright," I say. She stops screaming and bawls her eyes out. I sit on the bed and put her to my chest. She still is curled up into a ball crying. "Shhhh, it alright. You're safe," I say rocking her. "My baby," she chokes out. It makes her bawl even more. I stroke her hair softly. I press my lips into the top of her head.

She starts to calm down. A few tears coming out. I still hold her close to me. The back of her hospital gown is open. My hand rests on her wounds. They're rough. Some of them are stitched up and some have skin growing. Some have scabs growing on them.

Suddenly silence fills the room. She sighs into my chest. She's asleep. I lay down careful not to wake her up. I pull the blankets over us. I miss this. Her in my arms sleeping. Her feeling safe with me.

She remains curled up. Knees bent close to her chest, but is in my arms. Her head rests on my chest. As long as I live I will protect her. Even if it's the last thing I do.