Numb (Senses Series Book 3) (2 page)

Chapter 3

Maxx 

My eyes blink once. Twice. Three. Four more times in an attempt to make the tall,  blonde haired, blue eyed, Barbie doll figured woman in front of me disappear.

Yes. I know you’re wondering what most people do. How is
that
my mother? Well I’m not sure I even fucking know. I got her hair color and that’s about it. She’s not actually blonde. Well, she is
now
. She was born, and was as far as I had known my entire life, a brunette. My skin tone is a mix of both my parents. I got my dad’s eyes, the curvy nature that runs on his side of the family, and even his crazy mole patterns. She…she donated her hair color and about ten years of her life. That’s all.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she encourages me, her hands on her hips that are covered in a tight, red pencil skirt.

Well, what do you know? The devil really does wear Prada. Or maybe that’s Gucci.

“Maxx,” Aunt Caroline pushes.

I cut my eyes to my aunt and then back to the blonde woman who refers to herself as my mother. A short exhale comes out of me, but no words.

What the hell am I supposed to say? Thanks for running out on me as a child, and for leaving me with so many emotional scars that I’m not sure how I turned out as close to normal as I did?

“Maxx, why don’t you go wash up?” Uncle Mike suggests hoping to break the staring contest.

“And meet us at the dinner table,” my aunt says softly.

With a short nod, I move towards the left and head past the living room, down the hall straight towards the guest bathroom. Inside, I lock the door and rinse my face, hoping that it will erase most of the nightmare I have managed to fall into.

First Logan, now this? All my dreams come true one day only to wake up in a walking horror movie the next. What did I do to piss off the Universe? Did I eat the last box of chocolate Cheerios? Did I forget to record Sons of Anarchy for it?

After drying my face and hands on the towel, I leave the bathroom and relocate to the table at the dining nook, which branches off of the kitchen. The layout of this house, which I grew up in for the second part of my life, has always made it feel huge. The way the office is branched off from the entry hallway. The way the living room is dead ahead from the front door. Then there’s the way the living room and kitchen are openly connected. And with my old room right on the side of the living room, across from the tiny guest bathroom that is under the stairs, it gave a feeling of spaciousness. Yet today, it feels dollhouse-sized. Borderline claustrophobic.

I sit down at the brown wooden table, where my aunt and uncle are seated at the ends and the plastic woman is settled across from me. Picking up my fork as Uncle Mike does, I stare down at my food hoping that if I can just make it through this meal I’ll never have to see this woman again.

What? You can’t possibly think I’m wrong for not wanting to see her. And if you do, then maybe you need a minute to reflect and remember how she
abandoned me
. Let me give you a moment. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

“So Maxx,” her voice calls to me forcing my eyes up. She swishes around the wine in her glass.

She reminds me of a blonde Cruella De Ville. Does that make me a puppy?

“How have you been?”

“Alive.” My comment gets a short laugh from my Uncle Mike and a glare from my Aunt Caroline.

Judging by the way they’re acting, something tells me they are divided on the subject of bringing Lucifer into their home. I don’t know what there is to argue about. This creature shouldn’t be here.

“Well I can see that,” she says with sass in her voice. “I mean, how are you? I haven’t seen you in…well in—”

“In 15 years.” I finish the sentence for her while pushing around the pasta on my plate, still not taking a bite.

“Yes in…quite some time.”

“That’s a little more than quite some time.”

“Sure. You could almost say it’s been—”

“More than a decade.”

“Fine. I haven’t seen you in more than a decade.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Maxx!” Aunt Caroline hisses.

I bite my tongue.

You were thinking it too.

“Maxx,” the demon woman begins again after having a sip of her dark red wine.

You know I’m not a big drinker, right? All I want right now is a round of shots lined up for me to kick back until I blackout. You in? Tequila? Rum? Vod—

“You can’t possibly blame me for leaving, can you?”

There’s a long exhale from my Uncle Mike as my face crinkles with rage. “I can’t blame you for leaving?”

“You really can’t. You have no idea how hard it was that last year with your father—”

“I have no idea?!”

“You wouldn’t understand what it was like having to deal with that—”

“Was I not there?”

The label whore continues as if I haven’t said anything. “And you know what, after all that, I
deserved
another chance at life. I
needed
to be free. I
needed
a new start—”

“You’ve got be shitting me.”

“Language!” Aunt Caroline fusses again.

With all that’s running through my head, she’s lucky that was the phrase that came out.

“I know it’s difficult for you to understand, Maxx, but I did what was best for me.”

“You know what?” I drop my fork that has yet to pick up a piece of food. “Here’s what I know. If some day, the universe decides to spite me more than it already has lately, and deliver a child into my care, I know that what I want won’t matter anymore. What’s best for the child will matter. Because real parents know that it’s not about
you
anymore when kids come into your life. It’s about them.”

“Amen,” Uncle Mike mumbles through a mouthful of garlic bread.

It’s nice to see his appetite hasn’t been affected by the blasphemy sitting at the table. Then again aren’t I usually the same way?

She pushes her blonde hair out of her face. “I’ve tried to be a part of your life, Maxx.”

My lips press together.

I really don’t wanna piss off my aunt anymore, but what did she expect? That I would hold my arms out for this stranger and welcome her like nothing ever happened? That I would shower her in praise and kisses like some sort of 90s afterschool T.V. special? I know my Aunt Caroline is sweet and forgiving like a small child, but she had to know this wasn’t gonna pan out well.

“I had your aunt send me photos of your homecomings and your proms.”

“Both emotional disappointments. Like you.”

“Maxx!” Aunt Caroline shrieks.

Damn it. You were supposed to remind me!

As if she’s heard nothing I’ve said she continues. “I even tried to connect with you on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to socialize with you via the internet.” My jeer is followed by me finally taking a bite of the pasta that is now lukewarm.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate cold food that isn’t meant to be eaten cold? Don’t you dare say lukewarm isn’t cold. It is. It is! We will finish this discussion at a later time.

“Your aunt mentioned you were living with some friends. Erin, Luke, and I think…Logan was the other name?”

Just the sound of his name causes me to drop my fork on the table again. With a quick snap of my head towards my aunt I gripe, “What did you do? Send her my biography?”

“Maxx.” Aunt Caroline’s delicate tone matches the gentle tough of her hand on mine.

“Was it color coded and highlighted with the big events, like when I first kissed a boy and when I got my period!?”

Calmly she tries again. “Maxx…”

“Did you remember to add the footnotes at the bottom with my GPA?”

With a squeeze of my hand she sighs. “Stop, mi amor, she’s your mother—”

“No.” I cut her off. “You, Aunt Caroline, have been more of a mother to me than she ever has.”

“Excuse me?” the woman squeaks.

She sounds like a dog toy that’s broken.

“You heard me.” I stand my ground. “In fact, let me be completely honest. Even when dad was alive, you weren’t a very good mom.”

“You just say that because you were a daddy’s girl—”

“There was a reason for that,” I clarify.

“So…” Uncle Mike joins the conversation picking up his beer. “What brings you to town, Britt?”

“Oh a little vacation. A little sightseeing, a little shopping—”

“Did they run out of stores in Europe?” I smirk, picking at my garlic bread as my uncle chuckles.

“And.” She clears her throat to make an announcement. “I have some news.”

Finally! The real reason Satan has come out from the depths of Hell to walk among those of us with souls. Yeah, I’m a little more than bitter, and a little more than angry, but seriously…wouldn’t you be?

“Do tell.” Uncle Mike pushes the subject.

“Well, as you know, I married Brod shortly after we left.”

What kind of nickname is Brod anyway? Sounds like an annoying sound an animal makes.

“A few years after we got married, we had a son. His name is Wilfred.” My vocal chords seem to have been severed. “And they are both here in town with me. I would love for you to meet them.”

Somehow I manage to stand up. “I have to go.”

“You can’t leave, Maxx.” Uncle Mike wipes his hands.

“I damn sure can’t stay!”

“Maxx,” his stern voice warns.

“Uncle—”

“Look at your hands,” he says, and I do automatically since I’ve never been good at defying his words. They’re shaking badly. “You are in no condition to drive. And I don’t wanna lose a daughter. Go to your room.”

“You can’t ground me, Uncle Mike! I’m 25!”

“Go.” His eyes look up to meet mine, seriousness the only emotion I can see in them.

Without another word, I rush out of the kitchen and to my room, slamming the door shut. As soon as I’m inside I feel like I’m 15 all over again. My eyes immediately roam to the window that Logan used to climb into every couple of nights.

Wow. What does that say about me? My life is literally being dumped upside down and my brain instantly goes to fucking Logan. To be fair, as much as I was his saving grace from his shit life, he was mine too. If anything major would’ve happened back then, he would’ve been through that window in record timing and right beside me where I needed him. I need him now.

I run a hand over the top of my head, down over my ponytail, and look around the room that is still frozen like a highlight of my youth. The music posters on the wall next to the framed book posters, the baby blue and pink polka dot comforter, the flat screen T.V. on the pink and blue striped accent wall.

Still can’t believe Aunt Caroline let me paint the wall that way. I was going through a phase! Something about the pink and blue together. Erin advised and advised against it. Told me it looked like a baby’s nursery threw up. And Logan, well, he helped me paint the wall. He said that the blue in the room made it half his.

Flopping down on my bed, I rest my head against the pillows and cradle the stuffed Mickey Mouse my Uncle Mike brought me from his first business trip right after Dad died and the devil woman had left.

There are two sharp knocks at the door.

I shut my eyes tightly and yell, “If it’s the Wicked Witch of the East, go away! I prefer when a house is dropped on you!”

The sound of the door forces my eyes back open to see my uncle’s face peering around it. “Can I come in, Short Stack?”

I do my best to battle the smile that wants to come on my face and nod.

Uncle Mike’s nickname is the same one that my dad used to call me. They both loved to take me for pancake dates. Just the two of us. Dad used to put chocolate chips and sprinkles on his while Uncle Mike covered his in chocolate chips and nuts.

“I brought you something.” He attempts to sound cheerful.

“Is it a magic wand to rid us of the anomaly in the house?”

“Better.” He reveals a cupcake from behind his back. With a grin, he sits on the edge of the bed beside me. “Do you remember what your father used to say?”

My eyes watch him break the cupcake apart. “When you love someone, you always give them more than you keep for yourself. Then he’d break it apart and give me the larger piece.”

Uncle Mike hands me the larger portion and kisses me on the forehead. “You know I love you, Maxx.”

“I know.” I whisper before shoving the entire piece in my mouth.

Don’t judge me right now. I’m sure I look like a toddler at a birthday party with the way the frosting is smeared on my face, but what do you want from me? My life is in shambles! I can eat like it too!

“And I know we don’t talk about your dad much—”

“Don’t.” I shake my head and lick the frosting off my lips. “Don’t apologize for that.”

He nods and the room goes silent. After a good scratch of his faint beard he sighs. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Quickly I nod. “Have you seen the new Star Trek?”

“Into the Darkness? That hardly qualifies as new anymore.”

Giggling, I scoot over on my bed to make room for him. “Well not all of us went to the theatres to see it ‘cause we’re Trekkies.”

“You know your father was a Trekky. Had a tattoo and everything.” Uncle Mike grabs the remote and turns the T.V. on. “That’s where you get that whole nerd thing from, you know?”

I shoot him a look. “Right. And you’re not a nerd at all, Uncle Mike?”

“Nope.”

“So that Star Wars tatt of Princess Leia in the gold bikini on your right calf is—”

“A declaration of my independence from my parents.” he insists in a playful tone, turning on the movie channel.

For the first time today I feel a small ease. It’s not huge. It’s not even enough to undo any of the psychological damage I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life, but it’s enough that I can finally breathe.

And if this is the only minute I fucking get today to breathe, can I just say, I’m glad you’re here with me. I mean, I know I was a bit hostile earlier, given the circumstances, but at least I know I can trust you. And I feel a little safer knowing you’ll keep all my secrets.

Chapter 4

Logan

“Right there, Logan,” Maxx’s voice whimpers as her nails scrape down my back. The nick of pain causes my balls to clench in warning. “Oh my god! Yes! Yes!” Her voice echoes off the walls in my bedroom. “I’m so close!” My hips thrust forward and the moment I was waiting for arrives. “I’m—”

“Ahhhhhhhh!” A sharp scream causes me to sit up in my bed.

Fucking really? I can’t even have her in my dreams?

Drowsily, I grab the sheet that I’m tangled in and stumble in the early morning light to my door with it wrapped around me, willing my hard on to go away. Opening my bedroom door, I arrive at the banister at the same time Luke does.

“What the hell is this?” Erin shouts at the two of us while pointing a spatula at Dean who looks like a frightened puppy.

Scared of a kitchen utensil? Seriously?

“That is Dean.” I let out a long yawn. “Kid, the loud thing threatening you with a pancake flipper is Erin. This is her brother, Luke.”

Luke waves slightly still trying to wake up as well. “Hey.”

Dean barely manages to say, “Hi…”

Glaring up at me, Erin continues waving the spatula around at Dean. “And who the fuck is Dean?”

“
He’s
part of the reason I wasn’t here yesterday morning.”

“Oh…” Erin lowers it finally. Quickly her demeanor changes from aggressive to hospitable. “Hungry? I planned on making pancakes.”

Dean looks up at me still slightly apprehensive.

“She’s not gonna put poison in ‘em, Kid.” I chuckle, leaning an arm on the railing.

“At least not in his,” Erin snips folding her arms.

“Then yes, please,” Dean says slowly.

“I’ll start the mixing while Logan gets dressed. Can’t WAIT to hear all about you and why you’re couch surfing.” Her attitude is directed at me and the bitchy look on her face comes across unmistakably clear.

On a groan I turn back around to throw on more than a sheet. After a quick change into my gym wear and a brush of my teeth, I join Luke and Erin at the table. I sit in my normal spot with Dean sitting beside me in Maxx’s seat.

I stare at the pancakes in front of me.

Maxx loves pancakes. Her father used to take her for them often when he was alive. Kind of like their own special father, daughter tradition. Fuck, first the dream now the goddamn pancakes. I have completely turned into a walking, steaming pile of pussy.

“So.” Erin’s voice chimes in from behind her glass of orange juice. “How’d you two meet?”

“We’re not dating,” I grunt as I take a bite of the bacon that is still hot.

“Of course not. You don’t date,” Erin says with a sarcastic smirk.

Exactly. And the one time I did try to date, the girl left me high and dry. Yesterday. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it one more time. I won’t fucking date ever again.

“Found the kid hanging outside the gym.”

“So you brought him home? Isn’t that called kidnapping?” Luke’s joke is followed by him raising his ‘I Heart Doctors’ coffee mug.

He uses that mug so much that Erin hid it once just to see what would happen. Luke damn near broke half the dishes in his frantic search. He’s got OCD tendencies that he can tame for the most part, but no one fucks with that mug.

Dean laughs, and I roll my eyes. “Logan offered to let me work out with him.”

“And then what?” Erin pushes.

“And then I realized he has an old man just like mine. End of story.” I take another bite of my pancake.

These taste like shit. I don’t know if Erin is off her game or if my taste buds hate me, but either way I can’t eat another bite.

“Shit really?” Erin screeches glancing at me as I push my plate away.

“Really.” Dean states.

“If that’s the case, you are welcome here any night.”

“Appreciate it,” he mutters shoving more food into his mouth.

I know that look. I hated feeling pitied too. That’s why I kept most of my shit to myself. Buried it deep then pounded it a few feet deeper.

“It’s cool, Kid.” I reassure him.

The room gets silent briefly, but Dean breaks it. “So you,” he says, pointing to Luke, “are the nurse that tends to his wounds right? After his fights?”

He nods. “Correct.”

“And you…” he continues, pointing his fork at Erin, “must be the reason the Ring Side Girls look so hot at those fights. Am I right?”

“Why yes you are.” She giggles and leans back. “How’d you know?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re smokin’ hot?” His compliment makes her grin again.

Wow. This kid really is me.

“You don’t strike me as the nerd girl who’s got his boxers in a twist.” Dean tosses his head in my direction.

“Fuck you, Kid,” I grumble and prop my arms up on the table.

“I like you, Dean.” Luke laughs lightly before I toss him a ‘go to hell’ look.

“Is it the nerd girl that is causing you to deny eating my pancakes?” Erin asks and points to my plate that’s only missing three bites.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Since when are you not hungry?” she counters.

“Since when do you put too much sugar in your pancakes?”

Erin quickly scoffs, “I. Did. No. Such. Thing!”

“Pancakes are perfect,” Dean chimes in smacking slightly, I assume to prove his point that the pancakes are indeed great.

“So it is about her.” Luke declares.

“Can we not talk about Maxx?” My mood shifts as does my body in my seat.

“Where is Maxx?” Dean questions, starting in on my plate of food. “I’d like to meet her.”

The first morning that I’m up before her. Come to think of it, she didn’t even rush out to see why Erin was screaming. Maybe she bailed early this morning to avoid seeing me. Again.

Erin’s nails tap her juice glass. “Didn’t come home last night.”

Uncomfortable with that answer I ask, “Where is she?”

“No clue.”

Tony. She ran to Tony after she left me. I just fucking know it. That fucking weasel probably told her what a dick I am and used that as his in with her. What a fucking snake! How the fuck could she go from falling into my bed into his? Did you have something to do with it?! Aren’t you on my side?

Feeling the blood in my veins beginning to simmer I clench my fist. “I’m gonna grab my workout shit. Kid, you wanna go for a round at the gym or you want me to take you home?”

He tries not to sound too eager but misses the mark. “Gym is cool!”

I stand up and head towards the stairs even though Erin is on my tail. On a sharp turn at the bottom of the steps I toss my hand in the air. “What?”

In a low voice she says, “I know what you’re thinking, Kellar.”

“That all my good underwear is dirty?”

So kill me for the fact that I haven’t done laundry in a few days. Been a little busy.

“Fucking gross.” She shakes her head. “I meant about Maxx.”

“I’m not thinking about Maxx. I’m thinking about my underwear and the fact that I fucking hate laundry.”

“Kellar—”

“No.” I shut her off. “I’m not thinking about Maxx. I don’t give a fuck why she didn’t come home last night. Or whose bed she fucking slept in that wasn’t mine. The subject of Maxx and me is as dead as my old man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to put on underwear and get to a place that allows me to put my fist through something without consequences.”

I turn and march up the stairs just as I hear Luke say, “Quit staring at my sister’s ass, Kid. You’re way too young.”

The corner of my lip curves up.

It’s alright that you’re smirking too. The fact that my mini me acts likes my mini me is a good reason to smile. Besides, there aren’t many things for us to laugh about anymore.