RED & GREEN

 

In the days following Charlie’s death, I watched Max like a hawk. We all did.

I’d expected him to fall apart, to let his grief take hold and pull him back into his darkness. But he didn’t. He surprised us all.

He visited his father at the hospital, who sadly wasn’t well enough to be discharged in time for Charlie’s funeral. He took his meetings and appointments, and just got on with everyday life.

He had his moments of sadness, we all have these past few days, but he’s coping. He’s strong. He’s the man I fell in love with.

We had a long, emotional talk about what drove him to start hurting himself in the first place. He was finally opening up to me.

When the pain from the injuries he’d sustained in the crash had all subsided, he needed to find a way of bringing the pain back. His guilt at not being able to save his mother demanded it.

So, he’d begun to cut himself on the forearms. But the cuts were obvious and visible, the kids at school teased him about them too, which just compounded the problem making him more and more introverted.

Two years later, when William and Sylvie adopted them, they’d tried so hard to help him. He could see how much he was hurting them by continuing to self-harm, despite all their efforts.

Eventually, he abandoned that method and began to look for an alternative. That was when he started to beat himself. He’d use knotted rope, belts, anything he could find around the house, until one day at a neighbour’s yard sale, he found the perfect instrument. A whip.

But not just any whip. It was the one bearing the metal barbs. That was his first acquisition, the others were added to his collection later on, but the one which caused the most pain remained his favourite.

He promised me he would never do that to himself again. Explaining that now, because of me, his life was full of light and love, and the dark shadows of his past had gone for good. I don’t know if I truly believe that, but I’m hopeful.

He also told me that the M.F. tattoo on his chest had nothing to do with Monica. He’d had it done before he’d even met her. It was simply his way of connecting with his mother and father, to have their initials engraved over his heart for all time.

Yesterday morning, Max asked me to help him move the new photographs of his mother, father, and Charlie down to his study.

“They really are amazing, Vivienne. How did you do it?” he’d marvelled.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

It wasn’t the right time to tell him I had brokered a deal with my boss for exclusivity on our relationship. I’m not sure there will ever be a right time for that.

“They shouldn’t be locked away in here,” he’d said. “They should be with the rest of the family.”

That was music to my ears. He was starting to realise it was healthier to celebrate the lives of the one’s we’ve loved and lost, instead of just mourning them.

Before leaving the room, he’d stopped and looked back at the empty wall where the rack of whips used to be.

I suddenly feared he was missing that part of his life. My stomach knotting anxiously at the thought that he could fall back to his old coping mechanisms. And when he uttered his next sentence with a big grin on his face, it did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves.

“We really should make better use of this room, Vivienne. It’s such a beautiful, soft, baby blue colour now.”

“Hey!” I replied on an arched and oh-no-you-don’t, eyebrow. “Don’t get any ideas. I was just trying to brighten the place up a bit, that’s all… One step at a time, Mr. Foxx.”

We hung the photographs of Maria, Frederick, and Charlie among his other family pictures of Sylvie, William, and yes, even a small photo of Cole was dusted off and placed among the others in the family area of his study wall.

“Is that for your mum’s benefit?”

He just shrugged and smiled. “Makes her happy.”

As I glanced around the room, I noticed one wall had been cleared of the few paintings he’d had hanging there, and was now conspicuously bare.

“What have you done with the paintings?”

“That wall is going to be our wall.”

“Our wall?”

“Yes. Our wedding photographs, our kids, and our family pets.”

Butterflies invaded my belly, then he walked over to me with that predatory walk of his. The one that heats my skin, racing my heartbeat. Wrapping me in his arms, he kissed me tenderly. His blazing eyes scorching me with a hungry desire.

“It’s just a matter of time, baby.” Then he smiled. That bone-melting, mega-watt smile. The one that tells me how much he loves me. It was nice to see him smile. And always nice to be thrown over the desk and ravaged.

Sadly, we were interrupted by Jan, apologising for her poor timing, but nonetheless waiting for us to stop. A decision about volauvents and canapés for the wake the next day, just couldn’t wait. He did, however, make it up to me twice later on that evening.

~~

The mood over breakfast this morning was sombre, but with Charlie’s funeral service coming up this afternoon, it was inevitable we would all be feeling a little emotional today.

Cole is staying with Sylvie until after the service. Max had managed to have a fairly lengthy, and surprisingly civil conversation with him on the phone shortly after breakfast.

They discussed the eulogy, their father William, and of course Charlie, Monica, and the police inquiry, now that Monica is wanted for murder.

The post-mortem had revealed fatally high levels of a synthetic toxin, confirming Charlie had indeed been poisoned.

Although their conversation was a tad strained, the brothers were finally talking. Considering they’d hated each other and hadn’t spoken for years, they were doing pretty well.

Max gleaned quite a lot of information from him too. It turns out, Monica had lied to everyone.

She’d treated Cole like shit as soon as the honeymoon was over. She’d had several affairs, gone through tonnes of money, and had made Cole’s life a living hell. And when Charlie came along, it was even worse, especially when she’d told Cole, Charlie was Max’s son. She’d been consistently lying to them both.

Cole had gone off the rails and been stupid enough to get himself arrested on a drugs charge in South America, which he didn’t want William or Sylvie to find out about. He’d paid his way out of serving any jail time, and had managed to quash any subsequent scandal leaking to the press.

And for Monica’s silence? He’d agreed to let her do whatever she wanted, and he set her up with a generous allowance every month to keep her mouth shut. So, she’d even lied to Max about Cole not giving her any money.

Monica had wielded her power over both brothers, but it seems Cole was easier to manipulate than Max.

Neither of them could understand how Monica could harm Charlie. But Cole wasn’t at all surprised that she’d run away to save her own skin. In his own words. ‘She’s a twisted, fucked-up, evil bitch.’ I think I’d agree with him there.

Max and Cole’s fractured relationship would never fully recover from the pain they had both levied against each other over the years, but the brothers were talking again, it was a start.

The sad irony of it all, was Cole finding out that Charlie really was his son after all. It devastated him. Cole had failed Charlie as a father, regardless of the biology, but I can’t stop wondering if Charlie would still be alive if Max had taken Monica back. And I can’t help but wonder if that thought hasn’t also crossed Max’s mind too.

As soon as Max ended the call to his brother, Trencher rang. Unfortunately, he had nothing new to report. The sparse leads they had were all cold. It’s like she’d just vanished into thin air.

~*~

Although incredibly moving, Charlie’s service was beautiful.

As we leave the church, Max and I walk hand in hand to the garden of remembrance to look at all the lovely flowers, and to read all the heartfelt messages from family and friends.

Reaching up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek, I wrap my arm around his waist. “Are you okay?”

Draping his arm around my shoulders, he kisses my temple. “I’m always okay with you by my side.”

I glance toward the gates of the cemetery. A dozen photographers have set up camp outside, pestering everyone who enters or leaves for information. It pisses me off.

“Why can’t they just leave us alone.”

“We’re going to have to go public sooner or later. Maybe you should give your old boss the exclusive. It would be a way of compensating him for losing his best photographer.”

I dip my head to cover the blush heating my cheeks. Does he know I promised Frank the scoop on our relationship? John wouldn’t grass me up, would he?

“He hasn’t lost me, I’m going back to work once everything calms down.”

“No. You’re not.” His arrogantly slashed brows drive his point home.

“What do you—?”

The vicar interrupts my peeve, offering his sincere condolences. He walks us back to the car, thanking Max and the Foxx family for their very generous donation to the church.

I spot Lucy and Dan on the far side of the car park. They’re hanging back to let all the family members leave first. I’m glad they came. It was good of Max to include them, if only as moral support for me.

Vinnie takes us back to F1, where Jan has prepared a lovely spread on the terrace for all the family and friends wishing to pay their respects.

Max makes sure Sylvie is seated and has a Scotch on the rocks in her hand before mingling with the guests.

He introduces me to Dale and Stan, his lawyers. Bob, his tech guru. Scott his second in command and their wives and girlfriends.

Anne and Paul, Max’s friends who we’d had lunch with after our morning at Brands Hatch, walk over to say hello. Anne’s as enthusiastic as ever, hugging me like we’re old friends. We exchange the pleasantries, then I excuse myself to find Lucy. I need a drink and a chin-wag with my best friend.

I find her in the kitchen chatting to Jan, hovering next to the alcohol. Where else would she be? She’s craftily put Dan to work, helping Jan serve the drinks and nibbles.

“Viv, I know this is totally inappropriate timing, but can I have a quick tour around your beautiful palace? It’s the nuts.”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll show you around.”

We walk out of the kitchen and over to the dining room.

“Jesus, this is bigger than my salon. And look at that view!” Lucy walks toward the panoramic windows and just stands there for a moment, staring in wonder. “I want one of these.”

Max walks up behind me, folding me in his arms, kissing my shoulder and throat, then he nibbles my earlobe making me giggle.

“You ladies okay?” His seductive, velvety voice stirs my hormones. I can tell by Lucy’s expression that my dreamy boyfriend has just blown her socks off with one of his sexy smiles.

“We’re good.” Leaning up, I kiss him on the chin. “I’m just showing Lucy around your beautiful home.”

“Baby, it’s our beautiful home,” he says, nibbling my ear again.

Lucy coughs, to attract our attention. “Jeez, you two. Get a room.”

He plants a lingering kiss on my lips. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it.”

My body’s still responding to his touch in its usual way, and when he releases me from his arms, I sway on my heels. He’s completely intoxicating.

As he strides from the room, I turn to watch his exquisitely masculine frame, his sexy walk gets me every time.

“How do you ever make it out of bed with him around?” Lucy asks, fanning her face, then she giggles, pretending to faint. “I want me one of him, too.”

“You’ve got one. He’s called Dan, remember him? Cute guy, nice arse, soon to be your husband?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Have you been checking out my fiancé’s arse?”

We laugh and link arms, walking through to the living room.

Dan wanders past with a tray of food. Reaching down, she pinches his bum, he nearly drops the tray. “Yeah, nice piece of ass,” she whispers, in a rubbish American accent.

Steering her away from a red-faced Dan, I lead her toward the stairs.

Stopping, she turns to face me. “Seriously, Viv. I’ve found the love of my life, and I think you have too. Max seems like a really nice guy. And if he isn’t, I’ll beat the living crap out of him.” Her eyes start to glisten, as do mine, so we hug it out before continuing the tour.

I know she’s going to freak out at the tub in the master suite. Sure enough, she even gets in it to test it out.

“Fuck, me!” she squeals. “I’ve definitely got to get me one of these. If Dan ever dumps me, I’m coming to live with you?”

I’m almost embarrassed to show her the huge walk in wardrobes, guest rooms, guest bathrooms, and gymnasium. It’s all a far cry from my flat.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs again, Lucy rushes off to find Dan. No doubt she’ll want to show him around too, once he’s finished his waiter duties.

I look around for Max and see him walking into his study with Trencher, his head of security, following behind.

Knocking softly, I poke my head around the door. Max nods for me to come in then pulls me into his lap while Trencher stands on the other side of the desk, reporting the latest findings.

“Sir, forensics have finished with the DB9. They found Monica’s prints all over it, but they also found Steve’s prints too.”

Max’s jaw clenches and a deepening frown etches into his brow. “Our Steve? Steve Lombard?”

“Yes, Sir. He reported in sick the day Monica went missing. Nobody’s been able to reach him by phone and he’s not been seen at his apartment. His family haven’t heard from him either, Sir.”

“Motherfucker!” Max slams his fist on the desk. Trencher doesn’t bat an eye. He’s cool, professional, and looks like a man not easily intimidated.

“Sir, we’ve checked his bank accounts. He received a large deposit in cash, ten days ago, but he withdrew everything the day Monica went missing.”

Max’s muscles flex around me. His jaw pulsing repeatedly as his frown deepens. “Any good news?”

“Actually, yes. Thanks to your ingenious technology we may have a lead. When we realised Steve was involved, we started a trace on him. He’s still transmitting a signal from his security ID card, he doesn’t know it’s transmitting.

“The signal shows him, or at least his card, to be in Portsmouth. It’s a ferry port on the south coast. It’s been in that location for the last twenty-four hours. Do you want me to send a team to—”

“No. It’ll take too long. I’ll fly down there with Parker. Call Benny, tell him I want the helicopter logged and ready on the roof in twenty minutes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And Trencher… I’ll need a gun.”

No! My blood runs cold. Gasping with fear, I look up at Max, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Trencher’s eyes briefly swing to mine, which are wide and fearful at this point.

“Certainly, Sir.” Cool as a cucumber, Trencher takes out a weapon concealed inside his jacket. He checks the clip and hands it to Max, with a spare clip. “I’ll send you the coordinates and relay Steve’s transmission to your phone.” With that, he leaves the room.

My heart is pounding in my chest and my lungs feel empty.

“Max, please don’t….”

Don’t what? Don’t go? Don’t take the gun? Don’t leave me? Yeah. All of those things. I’m terrified.

Caressing my cheek, his scorching blue eyes burn into mine. “I love you, baby. I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Standing swiftly, he places me on my feet.

My legs are weak and it feels like my heart is lodged in my mouth. Throwing my arms around his neck, I crush myself against him, desperate to keep hold of him.

“Please, don’t go. Call the police. Let them handle it.” Fear heightens the sound of my voice, almost choking off my words.

Smiling down, he bands his arms around me. “I’ll be back soon, baby.” Then he kisses me passionately, powerfully, like it’s the last kiss we’ll ever have.

“Please, be careful.”

“I will, baby. I promise.”

I don’t ever want him to let me go, but all too soon, he does.

“John will be here for you. Don’t leave the penthouse. I mean it, Vivienne. Stay here until I get back.”

I can’t speak so I nod, reluctantly.

Throwing me his dazzling smile, he kisses me deep and hard, then pulls my arms from around his neck and leaves.

I stand there motionless for a while, staring at the empty doorway trying to take it all in, but I suddenly feel so lost and empty.

~

Jan finds me on the floor of the bathroom in the master suite.

“Oh, there you are. Come on, let’s get you off the floor and let’s dry those tears, shall we? They’ll be fine dear, I Promise. Vincent wouldn’t let anything happen to Mr. Foxx.”

She helps me up off the floor then grabs some tissues to dry my tears.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffle. “I’m just so worried about him, and now he’s dragged poor Vinnie into it as well. They should let the police sort this out. What if something happens?”

Jan smiles at me in a way that confuses me.

“Vivienne… Vincent isn’t just a driver, you know. He’s a highly skilled….well, let’s just say he can handle the situation. And I’m sure Mr. Foxx would want you to be looking after his guests while he’s away. Why don’t you take a few minutes, dry those tears, and come back downstairs, okay?” She smiles and kisses me gently on the forehead, then she leaves me, wondering what the hell Vinnie’s skills are?

Most of the guests have already left by the time I make it back downstairs. Sylvie is chatting to Lucy and Dan. Anne and Paul are out on the terrace tucking into the food, and a few other people are chatting around the piano. I wander into the kitchen to get myself a drink.

“Ah, that’s better,” Jan says, pouring us both a glass of wine. “Here, you probably need this.”

I take a couple of mouthfuls to settle my nerves. “Any word?”

“No. Vincent said he’d call when they’re on their way home.”

Lucy appears beside me at the island. “Hey, where’s Max?” she asks, plonking herself down on the stool next to mine.

“Erm… He’s had to go to a meeting.” I can’t face telling her. I’ll fill her in another time, there’s no point in worrying her too.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Well, we’re going to head off now, but you know where I am if you need me.” She reaches over for a hug.

“Yeah, thanks for coming, Luce. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Dan walks in and kisses me on the cheek. “Bye, Viv. See you soon.” Turning to Jan, he hands her his empty tray. “Goodbye, Janice. Very nice to meet you.”

“Oh, and you, Daniel. Thanks for all your help.”

I see them to the front door, hugging them goodbye. Anne and Paul and a few others also leave, each kissing and hugging me before they go.

“Tell Max, we’ll be in touch,” Paul says.

“Oh, and we must have lunch, or dinner again soon,” Anne adds, as Paul pulls her out the door. She’s a lovely woman, but I get the impression she could talk for England.

The only ones left are me, Jan, and Sylvie. I sit beside her on the sofa.

“Have you had something to eat, Sylvie?”

“Oh, yes, sweetheart. More than enough thank you. Jan does such a wonderful spread.” She finishes her Scotch. “Where did Max go?”

“Oh, ah. He had to go to a meeting.”

I’m going to hell with all these lies!

She smiles and reaches out to pat me on my knee. “Vivienne. I may be blind, but I’m not stupid, and I have excellent hearing.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

She leans into me, lowering her voice. “I overheard some of what Max said to Vinnie before they left. I’m guessing they have some kind of a lead on Monica?”

“Yes. They’re flying down to Portsmouth. They may have located her there.” I leave out the bit about Max taking a gun. I’m sure Sylvie isn’t aware that Monica also has a gun, and I’m not going to worry her with all that now. The poor woman has enough drama to deal with already.

“Shouldn’t the police be doing that?” Her question is laced with concern.

“That’s what I said.” I feel like I have an ally in Sylvie. Her warm smile and the way she always addresses me with such affection is lovely. She’s like the mother I should have had.

I decide to change the subject. I don’t want Sylvie to feel the way I do right now.

“How’s William?”

Her brow furrows and she suddenly looks very fragile.

Shit! Me and my big mouth.

His illness has taken its toll on both of them. But then I see her almost physically pulling herself together again. She’s a strong woman, like Max said. Her battle face back in place, she straightens her back.

“He’s fine, dear. No doubt he’ll be home soon and getting under my feet as usual.” She takes my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “You know, he asked me to marry him on our first date.” A rosy-cheeked youthfulness glows in her skin. “He was so handsome. I didn’t need eyes to know that. All my girlfriends were so jealous when he asked me out.” She sighs, smiling and shaking her head at the memory. “He took my breath away. I’d get butterflies every time we met.”

A cheeky grin develops on her lips. “I wanted to say yes right then and there. But of course, I didn’t. I’ve always been on the cautious side.”

Her brow furrows, then her eyebrows raise.

“He must have asked me a hundred times, in a hundred different ways over the next couple of months, and I said no to every proposal. Well, I was young, independent, and a little terrified about marrying a man I hardly knew.” She giggles, then stops abruptly. Her opalescent eyes staring out at a long distant memory.

“One day, he didn’t show up for our date. No call, no message, nothing. We were supposed to meet for lunch at a little café on Fifth Avenue, so I called his office. I was going to tell him off good and proper for standing me up, but when they told me that he’d been in a car accident and he’d been rushed to hospital… I suddenly realised what I’d known all along. He was the love of my life. But now, I might never get the chance to see him again. To tell him how I feel.”

Sylvie’s eyes glisten then she looks down, I can see how emotional this is for her. After a few moments, she raises her head, squeezing my hand again.

“As I said, I may be blind, but my instincts are strong. I can see the effect you have on my son. You’re the love of his life. And, if I’m not mistaken, you feel the same way about him.”

She’s right. He is the love of my life. What am I waiting for? I love him, and I know he loves me. Me. With brown hair and chocolate eyes. Not a trace of red or green. He loves me for who I am. Not what I represent. Not a memory. Not a ghost from his past. Me. Vivienne Banks.

“Vivienne?… Vivienne?” Jan’s face suddenly comes into focus.

Shit. “Sorry, what?”

“John’s here to take Mrs. Foxx home. I thought I might ask him to take me home too, if that’s alright?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry, Jan. I should have helped you tidy up.”

“Don’t be silly, it only took a jiffy.”

I help Sylvie to her feet and on with her coat.

“You will let me know if you hear anything, Vivienne?”

“Yes, of course. Try not to worry.” I say it, even though I know that will be impossible for both of us.

“I’ll try if you try.”

She kisses me on the cheek and then Jan walks her to the door where John is holding it open for them. Before leaving, he calls over to me.

“Lock the door behind me, Ma’am. I’ll be back as quickly as possible, then I’ll be in my quarters downstairs if you need me.”

I nod and smile. “Thanks, goodnight.”

The house feels so empty now everyone’s gone. I walk through to the kitchen to put my glass in the dishwasher, and then I check my phone. No messages yet. My belly churns with anxiety.

Turning off all the lights, I check the doors to the terrace. Everything is secure, so I head upstairs to take a shower.

My phone vibrating in my pocket, startles me as I reach the bedroom.

Thank God. “Max? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

His one-word answer elevates my already high levels of anxiety.

“What’s wrong? Did you find her?” I can hear voices in the background. “Max?”

“Sorry, baby. It’s very noisy here, I can hardly hear you.”

“Did you find Monica?”

“Yeah. Steve too. They’re both dead. Looks like Steve shot her before he died from his wounds.”

Oh, my God. I’m relieved to know Monica can never hurt Max again, but I feel sad about Steve. I feel sure he got sucked in by that evil, cunning witch, and sadly, he’s paid the highest price for that mistake.

“Are you coming home?”

“I’ve got to give a statement at the police station, but we should be home in a few hours.”

He sounds tired, but I’m so relieved to know he’s safe, and that he’ll be coming home soon.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just, I want you home. And Max?… I want you to ask me that question.”

He doesn’t speak. I can hear noises in the background so I know the line hasn’t dropped. I start to panic. “Max? Are you still—”

“You make me so happy, baby.” The emotion in his voice makes my heart ache. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. And Vivienne? I will ask you that question. I love you.”

“I love you, too. With all my heart.”

Hugging the phone to my chest, I close my tear filled eyes. He makes me feel so loved, so content, so happy.

Monica’s gone. For good. And knowing she can never hurt Max again fills me with a huge sense of relief.

Leaving my phone on the bed, I strip off all my clothes then pad into the bathroom and take a long, hot shower. It’s been a very long day.

My heart twinges when I think of Charlie and how difficult it was for Max and Cole to carry his tiny little coffin into the church this afternoon, but as I think of Charlie, Monica’s face comes into my mind.

The contempt, anger, and hate I feel for that woman bubbles to the surface prickling my skin with goosebumps.

“I’m glad you’re dead, you fucking bitch.”

I tilt my head back to soak my hair, trying to wash her image from my mind. I don’t need her in my head anymore.

Once I’ve rinsed off the conditioner and wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel, I walk over to the basin to comb my hair through and brush my teeth, then I plug in my hairdryer and tip my head over to give it a rough dry.

A noise startles me so I pull the hairdryer away from my ear and listen… Nothing.

I carry on drying my hair, but the same noise happens again. This time, I turn the hairdryer off, straining to listen. My heart pounds in my chest, but as I move the dryer, I realise the cable is knocking against the cupboard. Idiot.

Looking into the mirror above the basin, I smirk at my own reflection. “Feeling a little edgy, are we?”

Turning the hairdryer back on, I finish drying my hair. I want to look nice for Max, so I style it the way he likes it in soft, loose waves, then I moisturise my body.

Finding the short, sexy, silk nightgown that Max loves to take off me, I step into it. A few squirts of perfume and I’m done.

I can’t wait for Max to come home. One of the saddest days in all our lives is soon to become one of the happiest in mine. It feels right. I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready. I love Max, with all my heart. I’ve loved him since the very first moment I set eyes on him. And tonight, when he asks me the question… My answer will be yes.

Excited butterflies invade my belly. I want to send a quick text to Lucy to let her know that I’m going to accept his proposal. She’s going to die when she reads it.

But my phone isn’t on the bed. I lift all the covers and pillows, then check on the floor around the bed, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

Where the bloody hell..? I’m sure my phone has legs.

I check under the bed, on the bedside tables, I even check in the bathroom and the wardrobes.

I’m sure I left it on the bed… I have another look.

They say the definition of insanity is to repeat the same action over and over again, expecting different results. Well, call me insane, but I know I left it on the bed.

Doubt inevitably creeps in so I decide to go and have a look downstairs.

The shimmering moonlight floods in through the windows casting just enough light to see where I’m going.

Halfway down the staircase, I stop in my tracks when I hear the ringtone of my phone. I tilt and turn my head to try and locate which direction it’s coming from.

The study?… I don’t remember leaving it in there?

Rushing down the last few steps, I bolt for the study door. I don’t want to miss a call from Max, he’ll only worry and I don’t want him to worry.

But the ringing stops.

As I run through the door, my bare feet skid to a shuddering stop. My eyes widen in disbelief, my heart stops, and my world comes crashing down.

My phone lays face up on Max’s desk. I can hear his voice calling my name.

“Vivienne?… Baby?”

I want to scream. I want to scream my fucking lungs out, but I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m paralysed by fear. An all-consuming terror that grips my heart with its icy cold fingers.

“You!”