Lead Me Not

chapter twenty-nine

aubrey

after leaving Kristie’s office, I took my time heading back to campus. I was in shock. My entire life plan had been effectively decimated in the last thirty minutes.

Everything I had been working so hard for had been flushed down the toilet.

And all for a man who wouldn’t pick up the goddamned phone.

I tried calling Maxx for the millionth time and again got his voice mail.

I was officially worried.

It had been a week since I had last heard from him. Since he had last told me he loved me and needed me.

I missed him.

With my head bowed down and my steps unhurried, I walked the two blocks back toward Longwood University.

I should have been devastated, but instead I was pissed. It was a misplaced emotion, but being angry made it easier to analyze what had become of my life.

Someone had ratted me out. And I had a good idea who it was.

Unfortunately for that person, I was boiling over by the time I reached campus and saw him immediately.

“Brooks!” I called out. He was walking down a path with Charlotte, the girl he had been with at Compulsion. I had seen them together around campus and wondered if they were dating now.

I couldn’t care less about the state of his love life. I was feeling hurt and betrayed and ready to give him a piece of my mind.

He looked up and gave me a hesitant wave. Charlotte said something, and he nodded. I knew I was the topic of that particular conversation.

I hated to think that my onetime good friend was bitter enough to go behind my back and talk to Kristie. I didn’t want to think it was true, that our friendship had deteriorated to such a degree. But he was the only person who had been aware of my relationship with Maxx and had been so vehement in his disapproval. Renee would never have done this. That left only Brooks.

Brooks stopped walking and waited for me to catch up. He said something to Charlotte, who gave me a troubled look before hurrying off.

He seemed tentative and unsure, with good reason. And when he got a look at my face, he knew I was mad. He just didn’t realize how much.

“How could you?” I bit out.

Brooks frowned. “How could I what?” he asked, doing a good job of playing dumb.

“I had no idea you could be so callous. So cruel. I’m standing in front of you, Brooks, no need to put a knife in my back when I’m turned away. Do it where I can see you.”

Brooks looked perplexed and a little worried. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aubrey.”

I laughed hatefully. “God, I’m such a moron to think our friendship would stop you from betraying me. I should have known trying to be friends with a guy I had really bad sex with would only end in disaster.”

Brooks flinched. “Why are you being like this?” he asked, and I tried to ignore the guilt I felt at seeing the pain in his eyes. But I was hurting. Because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“I know it was you who told Kristie. Don’t try to deny it.”

Brooks held his hands up. “Wait a second. Back up. Told Kristie what?”

I pointed my finger into his chest. “You told her about Maxx and me. Go ahead, lie to my face and say it wasn’t you! Are you that freaking jealous that you needed to mess with my life?” I yelled, not caring that my tirade was getting us a lot of attention.

Brooks, however, cast an embarrassed look around and tried to shush me. “Keep it down, Aubrey. God, why don’t you just announce to the entire campus your private business,” he mumbled.

“Oh, so now you’re worried about my privacy? Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid. Not after what you did!”

Even in the middle of my outburst, there was a part of me questioning why I was doing this. Was it really Brooks’s fault that I was losing everything?

No.

Even if he had gone to Kristie and told her about my relationship with Maxx, I had made the choice to be with him in the first place.

Brooks laughed. “Are you serious?” he asked incredulously.

I glared at him. “I’m glad you think this is funny!” I scowled.

Brooks crossed his arms over his chest. “First of all, I didn’t tell anyone anything, but given how much you’ve fucked up your life, I probably should have. It’s what a friend would do,” he said harshly.

I opened my mouth to hurl some more nastiness, but he kept going.

“And second, how dare you stand there and blame anyone but yourself for the shit storm you’ve gotten yourself into. You”—he pointed at me—“made the choice to fuck around with the junkie. You”—he pointed at me again—“made the choice to not care about the consequences.”

He took a deep breath and looked sad. “It was you who threw away our friendship. It was you who gave up on yourself.” He walked around me, leaving me to stand there bewildered by the turn of our argument.

Brooks turned around just before he left. “Was it worth it?” he asked.

I had been asked that a lot lately.

Was it worth it?

Watching the man who had been one of my closest friends walk away from me and out of my life, I was beginning to wonder.

I spent Friday night with Renee. We watched movies and ate junk food. I hadn’t been able to tell her about what happened with Kristie. She was dealing with so much, no sense in adding more to her plate.

I was in the library most of Saturday, hoping schoolwork would keep my mind busy. For the first time in my life, it didn’t work. I hadn’t been able to concentrate. My thoughts were a jangled mess.

Finally, I gave up and returned home. Renee was asleep when I got back, so I thought I’d try to take a nap myself. But my mind wouldn’t shut off. I kept replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours over and over again.

How did things get messed up so quickly?

Finally, not able to lie in my bed any longer, I got up. I checked on Renee, but she was still asleep, clearly exhausted from her own drama.

I went into the kitchen and, as quietly as possible, made myself some pasta. It was Saturday night, and I wondered if Maxx was at Compulsion. I had a brief thought of getting dressed and going there to find him. But I quickly dismissed that idea.

I parked myself on the couch and turned on the television, hoping mindless reality TV would be just what I needed.

And then around ten-thirty my phone rang. I was so engrossed in feeling sorry for myself that I startled at the sound.

I looked down at the screen, and my heart leaped into my throat.

It was Maxx.

“Hello?” I said.

“There you are,” Maxx slurred, his words stringing together in a way that was barely understandable. I could hear the pounding of music in the background and knew he was at Compulsion.

“Why did you leave me?” Maxx sobbed into the phone, though it was hard for me to hear him. He sounded completely bombed out.

“Maxx, are you all right?” What a stupid question. He most certainly was not all right.

“I love you,” he cried, his words garbled, and then I heard a loud smack over the thumping music.

“Maxx!” I yelled into the phone, but he didn’t answer me.

The music continued to pound in my ear, but Maxx was gone.

“Maxx!” I screamed, and then I was cut off by the dial tone.

“You selfish fucking bastard!” I cried, immediately dialing his number.

It rang and rang and rang.

When his voice mail picked up, I hung up and tried again.

I called at least a half dozen more times before giving up.

Something was wrong. I recognized the sound of Maxx’s voice when he was high, but this was something different. Something more. I couldn’t stop thinking about how desolate he sounded. How lost.

Damn him!

I wrote a quick note to Renee, letting her know I’d be back in a bit, then grabbed my coat and keys with one destination in mind.

Compulsion.

Except I didn’t know where it was.

My plan just kept getting better and better.

I needed to find Maxx’s painting as quickly as possible.

I drove around campus, thinking it would be there. It wasn’t. The whole time, I was becoming more and more anxious. I headed into the city, checking all the usual places. I tried to think about where Maxx would leave it. But trying to get into his mind was a difficult thing.

I was one panic attack away from calling the police and telling them to go to Compulsion to get Maxx. Right then I didn’t care that he’d end up behind bars for possession. At least he’d be alive. Then I saw the group of people milling around the alleyway beside the movie theater.

I pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of my car. I ran across the street and elbowed my way through the small crowd.

This was it.

I should have known.

I should have realized he’d leave this at a place with significance to the people we had once been together.

The naïve, delusional people who were now long gone.

Painted along one side of the theater building was the picture of a man falling off the edge of a cliff onto a bed of knives. A woman, who I now recognized to be me, was standing above him. My face was a black circle, and my blond hair was turning into fingers tipped with bloodied talons.

The painting was the most depressing thing I had seen Maxx create. It made me want to cry.

It terrified me to think of what was going through his head in order for him to create this.

He had darkened my face. The deep psychological meaning of that wasn’t lost on me.

It seemed as though he was trying to erase me from his heart, just as he had erased my face in the painting.

Pulling myself together, I wiped away the tears that had escaped from the corner of my eyes, and I searched the picture for the address I needed.

At the base of the cliff were the words Wilby Street. Numbers had been blended into the clouds. I pulled out a pen and wrote everything down on the back of my hand.

Once back in my car, I fiddled with my phone, pulling up my GPS, and put in the address. It was fifteen minutes away. I broke several traffic laws in my haste to get to the club.

I finally found the location, an old office complex on the outskirts of town in a run-down industrial park. Without bothering to get in line, I made my way to the front, where Marco stood with Randy, the scary bouncer.

“I need to get inside,” I said, trying not to sound like a crazed lunatic. Randy barely spared me a glance.

“Then get in line like everyone else,” he said gruffly.

“You don’t understand. I’m looking for Maxx,” I explained, hoping my attempt at name-dropping would work.

Randy looked at me, but there was no recognition of the name. “I don’t care who you’re looking for. You still have to get in the back of the line.”

I looked over at Marco, but he wasn’t paying us any attention. He was too busy flirting with a couple of underage-looking girls in tight skirts.

“Marco!” I called out.

“Look, girlie, you need to move, now,” Randy warned.

“I know him!” I told him, pointing at Marco.

Randy rolled his eyes. “You’re not the first one, sweetheart. Now get the fuck out of here!”

I lunged past Randy, who tried to grab me. “Marco!” I yelled again. Randy wrapped a beefy hand around my upper arm and yanked me backward.

Marco turned around at the commotion and finally saw me. But my heart dropped at the blank look on his face. He didn’t know who I was.

“Marco, it’s me, Aubrey!” I called out.

“You need to leave now, you’re not getting in here,” Randy growled, yanking me hard by the arm. Ouch, that would leave a mark.

“Hold on, man. I think I know this chick,” Marco said.

“Dude, you know a lot of chicks,” Randy stated, and not at all nicely.

“Seriously, hang on a second.” Marco looked at me closely.

“I’m Maxx’s girlfriend,” I explained and was relieved to see understanding dawn on his metal-studded face.

“Right! I knew you looked familiar. Let her go, Randy. She’s X’s girl,” Marco said, grabbing my other hand and putting a stamp on the back.

I should have thought to use his other name. But I didn’t know X. I didn’t think I ever would.

Randy loosened his hand around my upper arm, and my fingers started to tingle as blood rushed back. “Sorry, I didn’t know,” Randy mumbled, giving me a small push forward.

I rubbed my arm where he had grabbed me, wincing at the pain there.

“I had no idea you were coming tonight. Maxx didn’t say anything,” Marco said, leaving his post and walking me through the door.

Marco grinned, his lips stretching and exposing a tongue ring I hadn’t noticed the last time I had seen him. “And just so you know, nobody around here calls him Maxx. That’s why Randy didn’t know who you were talking about,” Marco explained.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked Marco, my teeth already rattling from the music that blasted just behind the door.

Marco shook his head. “I’ve been out here all night. I don’t usually see him until just before closing.”

Crap.

“Thanks, Marco. I appreciate your help back there,” I said sincerely. Maybe Marco wasn’t such a bad guy, even if he did look like a tattoo experiment gone wrong.

“Sure thing, Aubrey,” Marco said, clasping my shoulder before returning to the entryway.

I took a deep breath and walked inside the club. It looked like chaos. Normally I found the craziness appealing.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I hated it. I saw it as ugly and sordid, its darkness hiding secrets and ruin. I wanted to leave.

But not without Maxx.

I started to push through the throngs of people dancing to the frenetic beat, straining up on my tiptoes in my search for Maxx.

No, not Maxx. Here, in this world, he was X.

I was pushed and jostled as the music reached its pinnacle. A mosh pit had started, and if I didn’t get away from it, I was certain I would lose a tooth or two.

I could see the bar against the back wall, and that’s where I headed. I recognized the bartender Maxx had called Eric.

I waved him down, and I knew instantly that he recognized me from when I was here before with Maxx. When he came to my end of the bar, I asked him if he knew where X was. It felt weird to call him that. It rolled oddly off my tongue, a stranger’s name. But I knew that I was looking for a person I didn’t know at all.

“I saw him over there a while ago. But I’m sure he’s around. He never goes far, so just hang around and he’ll find you.” Eric grinned, winking at me.

I headed in the direction Eric had indicated. A door on the far side of the room led to a narrow hallway that held the bathrooms. If anyone was down there, I couldn’t tell. It was too dark.

“Maxx, where are you?” I murmured to myself. The door to the men’s bathroom opened and shut behind me, and I heard a couple of guys laughing as they walked by.

“Fucking junkies,” one was saying.

Instinct took over, and I just knew.

I hurried into the men’s bathroom. It was a row of four stalls, all of them shut. But the last one was propped open by a figure I would recognize anywhere.

“Maxx!” I yelled, running to him. I fell to my knees beside him, not caring about the piss and the filth on the floor. The bathroom smelled rank, making me gag. But it was nothing compared to the nausea I felt when I got a good look at Maxx, sagged over on the tiles.

He was on his side, his face pressed into the floor. His left arm was bare and stretched out beside him with a thin white strip of plastic tied tightly, just above the elbow, causing the vein to be exposed.

I knew exactly what Maxx had been doing. Anyone who had ever watched HBO or a bad health video in high school would be able to figure it out. I patted around on the ground next to Maxx’s limp body until I found the empty syringe.

I sprang into action. I immediately loosened the plastic around his arm and threw it on the floor. Then I leaned in close to make sure he was still breathing. His breaths were slow and shallow, and when I felt his pulse it was thready. I wasn’t sure how much he had taken.

I knew that a heroin overdose could involve depressed respiratory functioning. If a person took enough, eventually their lungs stopped working, and they’d suffocate.

“What the hell, Maxx?” I asked, knowing he was way past answering. I tried lifting him up, but he was too heavy to move. I rolled him over so he lay flat on his back.

He didn’t make a sound. I laid my ear against his chest, listening to the strained beat of his heart. My tears soaked his shirt, and I turned and buried my face in the fabric, screaming to a man who couldn’t hear me.

The door of the bathroom swung open, and a few guys came in. They noticed me on the floor with Maxx and chuckled.

“Sorry to interrupt,” they said, turning to the urinals and taking a piss, unconcerned. They didn’t see what was really going on. The sight was most likely not unusual at a place like Compulsion.

When the men left, I tried to get Maxx to wake up. I yelled in his ear. I smacked his face. I shook him hard enough to bang his head against the floor. Nothing worked. He wouldn’t wake up. And when his breath started to rattle in his chest and his lips began to tinge blue, I knew I needed to get him to a hospital.

I hurried to the door of the restroom and locked it, not wanting anyone to come in. I got out my phone and dialed 911.

And then I watched Maxx’s breathing slow down until his chest wasn’t moving at all.