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She huffed a laugh. “You’re really nice to look at,” she said.
Max smirked. “Likewise, Red. Maybe you should do it more often.”
Dallas smiled, but the humor faded quickly. “I realize I haven’t been the easiest person to be with. To be honest, I can’t believe you haven’t left me yet.”
“Technically, I did,” Max joked. “Remember?”
Dallas grimaced.
“Sorry,” he said. “Go on.”
She drew a deep breath, her manicured fingers fiddling with a rusted nail in the dock. “I made a mistake by getting on Blood Potions. I didn’t see another way of getting everything done every week without dropping dead from exhaustion.”
Max’s past made him reluctant to voice his question, but he did anyway. “Are you addicted?”
She kicked her feet out over the water and crossed her legs at the ankles. “I don’t think so.” She sighed, still kicking her feet as she stared out at the ocean. “Time will tell I guess.” A pause. “I’ll get off them. I’ll try. I know you don’t like them—”
“You need to do it for yourself too, Dallas. Not just me.”
“I want to get off them,” she insisted. “Honestly, I’m so sick of fighting for my dad’s approval. My mom’s too. Before you showed up tonight, Casen told me that if I wasn’t careful I would kill myself trying to impress them.” She sighed. “He’s right. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting to have a healthy relationship with your parents. I’ve wanted one with my dad ever since…” There was a lump in his throat. But he knew he should force out the words. Dallas was finally talking to him, and if he chose to shut her out, there was no reason why she shouldn’t do the same to him. He concluded on a heavy breath, “Ever since Maya died and my dad left town.”
Dallas glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Her lashes were still damp from the tears she’d cried. “He never tries to talk to you?”
Max shook his head. “Never.” His dad was a good man. Max didn’t blame him for not wanting anything to do with his Darkslayer son. “Maya’s death wrecked my dad so thoroughly that he wanted nothing more than to start over and leave his past behind, which is exactly what he did.”
“But he shouldn’t have left you.” Dallas’s voice was a gentle whisper.
Max was quiet for several minutes. “I don’t blame him,” he said at last. “Sometimes it’s easier to recover from grief if you give yourself a clean slate. Maybe one day I’ll see him again.” He swallowed. “But I won’t force it.”
When Dallas looked up at him, her freckles were pronounced by the moonlight that washed her face with silver. “I don’t want to lose you, Max. I’ve never let myself get close to anyone before, I’ve been too afraid. But…but I want to try with you. Do you think we could start over?”
Max eyed her. She didn’t look away or stiffen under the scrutiny. One point for Dallas. “Yeah, Red. I think we can start over.” With a teasing smile, he extended a hand. “Maximus Reacher.”
She took it. “Dallas Bright.”
“How attached are you to your last name?”
Dallas snorted a laugh. “Not very.”
“Cool.” Max’s smile grew. “Maybe changing it is in our future too.”
When she smiled at him, she still didn’t break eye contact. “Maybe.”
He put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. She leaned into him, her tattered wing curling around him.
For a long while, they sat there, their world small, consisting of nothing but each other and the briny water splashing the dock.
It might be small but it sure felt big to him.
—
Dallas spent the whole drive back to Hell’s Gate leaning across the center console in the SUV, both of her hands gripping Max’s, her head resting on his arm.
They were both broken in their own way. But hell, if he didn’t love her. She might’ve said she hated him, but he knew from the way she was holding onto him that the words weren’t true. Maybe she wasn’t ready to express her feelings like he was, to say the three words he’d screamed at her by the river, but he would wait.
For her, he would wait as long as she needed.
