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Sue Sinclair was washing dishes when she heard the front door open.
Initially she thought it might be Lucas, coming back from Mike’s to grab something he had forgotten, but the footsteps that followed were far too quiet. She heard a soft whimper and turned off the water.
“Lucas?” she called. “Is that you?!”
There was no response. She waited, but all she heard was the sound of the hall bathroom clicking shut. She wiped off her hands and beelined for the source of the noise. She leaned against the door and pressed her ear to it, instantly making out the distinct cries of a little girl inside. It didn’t sound like Erica. She reached for the doorknob and felt something wet.
Blood. There was blood on the doorknob.
“Sweetheart?” Sue’s voice dropped instantly, warm and worried. “What happened? Can I come in?” Max’s breath hitched. She didn’t get a response, so she took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. The door wasn’t locked. “I’m coming in, okay?” She waited a beat, then pushed open the door.
Sue wasn’t prepared for what she found inside.
Max was cured up in the corner of the bathroom, leaning up against the bathtub. Her hair covered her face but she was crying heavily, her face sheet white. She clutched her stomach and her fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt. A dark red stain had spread down the inside of her jeans.
“I-I’m sorry,” Max whispered. Her voice cracked like it hurt to speak. “Please don’t take me anywhere. Please don’t-don’t make me go-” The words were spilling out of her before Sue could even fully process the scene. She rushed to sit beside the girl, pulling her into her side. Max melted into the touch like her own mother hadn’t hugged her in years.
There was so much blood. It was already on the bathmat where Max sat, turning the teal a sick brownish-red. Sue silently scanned her body, looking for any sort of wound. Maybe she just fell off her skateboard, she thought. The blood was on her hands but it wasn't coming from there, like she had tried to wipe it away and had only smeared it more.
But she looked closer, and slowly the scene painted a sickening, stomach-churning picture. The blood was concentrated on her thighs, spilling out from her crotch. It was too heavy to be a period, and the way Max pleaded told her exactly what it was. She took a deep breath and cupped Max’s cheek, brushing away the tears with her thumb. More quickly replaced them.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Sue promised. “You’re staying right here with me.” Max let out a tiny sound, her whole face tightening with pain, and her legs shook. “Oh, honey,” Sue breathed, squeezing her tighter.
Max doubled forward, arms wrapped around her stomach, forehead nearly touching Sue’s lap. The blood soaked through the denim faster than she could catch her breath. She pressed her palms down flat like she could hold the world still that way.
“I’m so sorry,” Max whispered again, tears falling in silent streaks. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You came to the right place,” Sue said. Her voice didn’t shake. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
The Sinclair's house key dangled on a chain around Max’s neck. Lucas had given it to her, but she barely used it. That’s how their Max was, always too proud and too stubborn to accept support. Another sharp cramp hit, and Max’s breath strangled into a wet gasp. Sue gathered her closer, one hand on her back, the other cradling her head against her side and petting her hair.
“Easy,” Sue murmured. “You breathe with me, okay? In… and out… that’s it.”
Max squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenched so hard it trembled. “It won’t stop,” she choked. “I-It won’t stop.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Max was only fourteen. This pain was too much for a grown woman, let alone a child like her. Sue rolled around the thought in her head. Could Lucas have… It wasn’t impossible. She knew that Max could climb up to his window, and did it regularly. She never had stopped them, because the girl always seemed like she needed somewhere safe to sleep, but if they had been doing more than sleeping…
She was pulled out of her rumination by Max making a strangled noise in the back of her throat, an angry whine. She hit her fist against the floor. “I ha-hate him…” She was hyperventilating now, overwhelmed with emotions. “Pl-please don’t make me go back to h-him!” Max wailed, throwing herself further into Sue's embrace.
In that moment, it became clear that Billy Hargrove was a far worse person than any of them had given him credit for. Sue felt like she could vomit, but she held Max tight instead.
Everyone in town knew that the Hargrove-Mayfield home was the opposite of calm. Max was reserved, even when she was with the boys. She could be mean too; she bit back at anything vaguely shaped like a threat. Sometimes, Sue had spotted little bruises along her neck or on her wrists, and things had just been seemingly getting worse in recent months. Sometimes she laid awake at night imagining what horrible things could be happening to the sweet girl who had become their family. She always came up empty on how to help her and just prayed that she was wrong about it all.
And now, her worst fears were right.
“Okay,” she finally said, scraping a plan together in her head. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. Can you get your jeans off? I have some towels you can sit on while this… takes its course. It’ll be more comfortable than wearing those. I’ll get them washed and they’ll be good as new tomorrow.”
Max frowned, then laughed bitterly. “There’s no way this blood is coming out,” she said like she was trying to be snarky, but there was a whine in her voice. Sue smiled sadly, but softly, trying to comfort the poor girl.
“Sweetheart, I have my tricks. Don’t you worry a bit about the stains, I’ll get them out,” she assured her.
Max finally nodded and let Sue leave her side. She dug some of their worst towels out of the back of the cabinet, ones that were a little ripped and bleach-stained from years of use, but they would work just fine for this. Max discarded her jeans and kicked them as far as she could away from her, which with her remaining strength was not very far. Sue filled a cup with water from the tap and spread the towels out on the floor, settling back beside the redhead. She brought the cup to her lips.
“Drink, baby, you need it.”
Max sipped delicately, swallowing the water along with her whimpers. Finally she dropped her head and pressed her forehead into Sue’s shoulder. She had seen her do that to Lucas a number of times. It just made her heart ache all the harder.
Time slowed into a long, painful rhythm. Max sat there shaking, sweating, swallowing back cries she didn’t want to make, and Sue holding her through each wave. It must have been hours that passed like that.
When Max was finally able to lean back against the bathtub, her whole body slack with exhaustion, Sue wet a washcloth from the sink and wiped her face gently. Max flinched at first, then sagged into the touch, her breaths coming in small, trembling pulls.
“Can you stand?” Sue asked quietly.
Max nodded weakly, but when she tried to push herself up, every joint in her body wobbled. Sue wrapped an arm around her waist, bracing her and pulling her to stand. “I’ve got you. One step at a time.”
In the shower, Max held onto Sue’s wrist like a lifeline. She didn’t look up, even when the warm water hit her skin. She was focused on the pink rushing down the drain. Her teeth chattered and occasionally she would suck in a breath like she had forgotten she needed to breathe at all. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again and again. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Sue insisted. “Not one thing.”
When she finished washing Max’s hair and all the blood was gone, Sue wrapped her in a towel and rubbed her arms to warm her up. She helped Max into clean underwear from the emergency backpack Lucas thought she didn’t know was underneath his desk, adding a thick pad for the rest of the bleeding. Sue had rummaged quietly in Lucas’s dresser, pulling out soft sweatpants and his old hoodie. It was warm, oversized, smelling faintly of laundry soap and Lucas’s cologne.
“Here,” Sue said gently. “These will be comfortable.”
Max didn’t argue. She let Sue dress her like she was much younger, leaning on her the whole time. Her whole body was drained and her skin was still too pale, greyed around the edges. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes open and the occasional cramp still wracked her.
They walked slowly to Lucas’s room. Max climbed into the bed like her limbs weighed twice what they should. Sue pulled the blanket up to her chest and smoothed her hair off her forehead.
“You’re safe,” Sue murmured. “You hear me?”
Max nodded once, eyes glassy. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
Sue kissed the top of her head. “Rest.” For once, Max didn’t resist at all.
…
Max drifted in and out of sleep until she heard the front door open and Lucas calling, “Mom? I’m home!”
She blinked wearily, rubbing at her eye. It took her a minute to remember where she was. She snuggled against the soft throw blanket that was laying over her, trying to keep her breathing even through the pain. It was getting dark outside now and the bedroom felt like a warm cave. She strained to listen to what was happening downstairs.
Sue met him at the bottom of the stairs. Max heard only fragments through the floorboards; Sue’s low voice, Lucas’s sharper, anxious one.
“Max is here,” Sue said, stopping Lucas on his way up to his room. The washing machine tumbled on and drowned out some of the conversation. “She’s upstairs. She’s had… a very hard day.”
“Is she hurt?” came the reply. Max bit her lip until she tasted blood. A well timed cramp reminded her exactly what had happened to her, exactly why she was crying in the bed of the boyfriend she didn’t deserve.
“She doesn’t need questions right now,” Sue said gently but firmly. “She needs you. Go slow with her, okay?”
Max’s chest tightened when she heard Lucas’s footsteps on the stairs. The door creaked open.
“Max?” he said in a half-whisper. She turned her head just enough to see him in the doorway, peeking out of her cocoon of his blankets. His face softened immediately. “Hey,” he said, approaching the bed. “You look… tired.”
“Something like that,” she replied with a weak exhale. Don’t cry, she begged herself.
Lucas sat on the edge of the mattress, careful like she was made of glass. Max hated when people acted like that around her, but she was too exhausted to be very upset. “My mom said you were resting.”
Her answer was a noncommittal “I guess I am.”
“You want anything?” He reached over and brushed back a piece of her hair just like his mom had. Her stomach twisted with more than cramps. He couldn’t know, he could never know. He would never look at her the same. He might not even want to be around her if he knew.
It felt like she was deceiving him. Friends don’t lie, but that was a stupid kids saying. They were too grown up for that now, and the world was more complicated than it had been two years ago. Friends could omit the truth. She just wanted to cling to this for as long as she still could, before her luck would run out. She hummed and leaned into his touch. “Just you.”
He nodded seriously. “Okay. Scoot over a little?”
She did, and he laid down beside her, letting her curl into his chest. She pressed her forehead to him like she was anchoring herself there. His arm slipped around her waist, slow and gentle like he checked her breathing before each movement.
A soft knock came a while later.
“I’m coming in,” Sue said through the door. “I have food,” she added, pushing the door open with her shoulder. She carried a tray with two bowls of soup and cornbread. Her eyes softened when she saw the way Max held onto Lucas. “Dinner, kids,” she said quietly. “Max needs a little food in her system.”
Lucas helped Max sit up, then reached for the tray. She watched him reach for the spoon and narrowed her eyes. “I can feed myself,” she mumbled.
Lucas’s face softened. “Can I help you anyway?”
A beat passed and she chewed on her lip again. He was giving her those big, soft puppy dog eyes. “…Okay,” she finally responded. She caught Sue smiling out of the corner of her eye as she left the room, leaving the door open just a tiny crack.
He took her bowl and scooped a small spoonful, blowing on it. “Ready?”
She opened her mouth like she didn’t have the energy to pretend she didn’t need him. The soup was warm, an iron-rich broth that immediately made her eyes close, her shoulders sagging. The only home cooked meals she ever really got were the ones she had staying with her friends. Neil preferred to blow what little money they had on takeout and alcohol.
“That’s good,” Lucas said, brushing hair off her cheek. “You’re doing great.” The pity made her stomach turn but the affection filled her veins and she couldn’t reject him.
She made it halfway through the bowl before a sharp cramp made her hiss and instinctively grab his sleeve, folding in on herself. “Sorry,” she breathed, but Lucas never treated her like an inconvenience.
“Don’t be.” Lucas touched her back, his face tightening with concern. “Do you want to stop?”
She shook her head, damp curls hitting her face. She was starving, despite the pains. “No. Keep going.”
He fed her until her hands stopped shaking and a faint flush returned to her cheeks. When he set the bowl aside, she leaned into him again, exhausted from even that much effort. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course, MadMax,” he whispered back. He settled against the pillows and ate his own soup while she drifted off against him, cheek pressed to his chest, breath soft and uneven. Lucas tightened the blanket around her hips and rubbed soothing circles into her back.
Max fell fully asleep that way. She didn’t believe it was possible for a girl like her to ever feel safe, but here she was being held, trembling less with every minute. She was wrapped in Lucas’s clothes, his arms around her, his heartbeat steady against her cheek.
And Lucas kept whispering, barely above a breath, “I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”