Chapter 79 Where Exactly Is Home?
Maddox didn't let go of her arm.
He ran with her beside him, half pulled and half moving on her own.
Grace was glad to be putting distance between herself, the body and the chaos back there. They moved through the perimeter and into the open ground beyond it and then into the tree line where the light changed immediately, the grey morning filtering through branches and becoming dimmer and more diffuse, and still Maddox didn't slow down.
Grace's lungs were making their opinion known, her nose was still throbbing from the punch, a hot persistent ache that pulsed with every heartbeat.
She ran because he was running and because the look in his eyes back there had communicated that stopping was not a good idea, but the forest was getting denser and the noise from the chaos was far enough behind them now that she couldn't hear it anymore and she needed answers more than she needed to keep running.
"Maddox." She said it between breaths. He didn't slow. "Maddox, stop."
He kept moving.
"Stop!" She planted her feet and pulled back against his grip which finally brought him to a halt, though it was not a calm one. He stopped abruptly, his head immediately whipping towards her, the energy of the run still in him, his eyes were scanning the trees around them even as they found her face.
"Where are we going?" She was breathing hard and she let herself breathe hard rather than pretending she wasn't. "What are we running from? There are police back there, there are bodies, and you just—" She stopped and redirected. "Tell me what's happening."
He looked at the trees for another moment then looked at her, and something in him settled slightly, not all the way but enough.
"I killed one of my uncle's men," he said. "Bran wasn't just anyone in that camp. He had standing. People who followed him specifically, not just the rogue king." He paused. "And someone saw it happen."
Grace thought about the man at the edge of the building, the slow smile spreading across his face before he turned and ran.
"Who was he? The one who saw?"
"Someone who has been looking for a reason," Maddox said, and left it at that.
Grace looked at him. She looked at the way he was standing, the way his eyes kept moving to the perimeter of the trees, the quality of the tension in him. He wasn't frightened of what he'd done. He was frightened of the consequences of having been seen doing it which was a different thing, and the difference sat in her chest in a way she couldn't immediately resolve.
"How many people have you killed?" she asked.
The question came out quieter than she'd intended, it wasn’t an accusation, just a question asked because she genuinely didn't know who she was standing in this forest with, and she had decided some time ago that she was done pretending she had more information than she did.
Maddox's expression shifted. He looked at her with offense and tired eyes, and he took a step toward her. "You shouldn't even be here."
"I know that," she said. "You disappeared. What did you expect me to do?"
"Go home," he said. "Stay somewhere safe. Not walk into the middle of a fight with police and prisoners and rogues who apparently think you're a witch."
"And where exactly is home, Maddox?" Her voice was sharper now. "Because I've been asking myself that question for weeks and I keep coming up empty." She crossed her arms over her chest, partly because she was cold and partly because she needed something to do with her hands. "You ran. You didn't say anything, you just turned around and ran, and I found out about everything, about what you are, about Enzo, about all of it, not because anyone told me but because I figured it out myself, and then I'm supposed to just go somewhere safe and wait?"
"That's exactly what you're supposed to do."
"You lied to me." The words came out simply, without a dramatic edge, which made them land harder than if she'd shouted them. "You were my best friend and you were lying to me the entire time. That's what I kept coming back to, that's what I couldn't make peace with. Not the werewolf part, not the pack part, not any of the supernatural impossible things. Just the lying."
Maddox looked at her and the tiredness in his face made him look old, the kind that had been there longer than this conversation.
"I know," he said.
"Then why?" she said. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He was quiet for a moment. The forest was quiet around them.
"You were scared of me…”
Grace’s eyes snapped to his, “What? No, Mad, I—”
“…and because I couldn't figure out how," he said finally. "And then enough time had passed that the not telling had become its own thing, and I didn't know how to undo it without losing you." He stopped. "So I kept not telling you."
Grace looked at him for a long moment.
"That's the most cowardly thing I've ever heard," she said.
Something moved across his face that was almost a smile. "Yeah," he said. "It is."
"And Enzo?" she said. "What’s with the hatred?"
The almost-smile left entirely.
Maddox looked at the ground for a moment and then back up at her, and the look in his eyes had changed quality. It was heavier now.
"Enzo killed Matteo," he said.
The words went into the air between them and stayed there.
Grace heard them, she heard each word individually.
”What?!”