Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 281

Maxwell’s POV

I grabbed my jacket from the passenger seat - though it would do little good in this downpour - and pushed open the car door.

The rain hit me immediately, cold and relentless, soaking through my clothes within seconds. Thunder rumbled overhead, so deep I felt it vibrate through my bones.

I ran toward the front porch, my shoes splashing through puddles, rain streaming down my face.

The porch provided minimal shelter, but at least I was out of the direct assault of the storm.

I stood there for a moment, catching my breath, running my hands through my soaked hair.

Then I raised my fist and knocked on the door.

"Olivia!" I called out, my voice barely audible over the roar of the rain. "Olivia, it’s Maxwell! Please, I just want to talk!"

No answer.

I knocked again, harder this time.

"Olivia! I know you probably don’t want to see me, but please! Just give me five minutes! That’s all I’m asking!"

Still nothing.

Maybe she couldn’t hear me over the storm. Or maybe she was deliberately ignoring me, hoping I’d give up and leave.

I wouldn’t blame her if she was.

I moved towards the side window and knocked a third time, my knuckles starting to hurt from the force.

"Olivia, please..."

Movement caught my eye.

Not from inside the house, but from around the side. Near the back.

I turned, squinting through the rain and darkness, trying to make out what I was seeing.

Two figures.

Running.

One in front, one behind, both moving fast across the stretch of beach visible from where I stood.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the scene for a brief, brilliant second.

The figure in front was smaller. Slender. Female.

Olivia.

Running like her life depended on it.

And behind her...

A larger figure. Male. Something in his hand that glinted in the lightning flash.

My blood turned to ice.

"OLIVIA!" I screamed, already moving, already running around the side of the house toward the back.

The rain made everything slippery. I nearly lost my footing on the wet grass, caught myself against the side of the house, pushed forward.

My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might explode.

Someone was chasing her.

Someone with a weapon was chasing Olivia across the beach in the middle of a storm.

I rounded the corner to the back of the house and the full scene came into view.

The beach stretched out before me, dark and violent under the storm. The ocean roared, waves crashing with unusual force.

And there - maybe fifty yards away, already at the waterline -was Olivia.

She was running into the water. Actually running into the ocean.

And the man - whoever the hell he was - was following her, moving with the casual confidence of a hunter who knew his prey had nowhere left to go.

"OLIVIA!" I screamed again, my voice ripping from my throat.

But the storm swallowed my words.

The wind, the rain, the thunder, the ocean - it was all too loud.

She couldn’t hear me.

I ran.

Across the sand, my legs pumping as hard as they could go.

But I was too far away.

Too goddamn far away.

I watched in horror as Olivia waded deeper into the water - up to her waist, then her chest.

The man was right behind her, laughing. I could see his mouth moving, though I couldn’t hear the words.

And then Olivia started swimming.

Away from shore. Away from safety. Into the violent, storm-tossed ocean.

"NO!" I shouted, still running, my lungs burning. "OLIVIA, NO!"

I ran harder than I’d ever run in my life.

My feet pounded against the wet sand, my legs burning, my lungs screaming for air I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

The rain battered me from above, the wind pushing against me like it was actively trying to hold me back.

But none of it mattered.

Nothing mattered except reaching Olivia.

"OLIVIA!" I screamed again, my voice raw. "OLIVIA, HOLD ON! I’M COMING!"

The man in the water turned at the sound of my voice.

Even through the rain and darkness, even from this distance, I saw him go completely still.

Then he started wading back toward shore, moving with sudden urgency.

"HEY!" I shouted, still running. "GET AWAY FROM HER! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM..."

The man emerged from the water as I got closer, and another flash of lightning illuminated his face.

I stopped running.

Actually stopped mid-stride, my feet skidding in the wet sand, nearly sending me sprawling.

No.

No, it wasn’t possible.

The face was older, more weathered. Covered in thick facial hair that obscured most of the features. But the eyes - those cold, calculating eyes that had haunted my childhood...

I knew those eyes.

"Dad?" The word came out strangled, barely a whisper. "Jesus Christ. You’re... you’re alive?"

My father stared at me, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw genuine shock on his face.

His mouth opened, closed. His hand - the one holding the knife - dropped to his side.

"Maxwell," he said, and his voice was exactly as I remembered it. Sharp. Controlled. Even now, even caught in the act of trying to murder the woman I loved, he sounded like he was in a business meeting. "This doesn’t concern you. Walk away."

"Walk away?" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "You’re trying to kill her! You’re supposed to be DEAD!"

"Plans change," he said simply, taking a step backward. "Sometimes you have to disappear to truly be free. To start over without the burden of..."

"I DON’T CARE!" I roared, taking a step toward him. "You tried to kill Olivia!"

His face hardened, that familiar expression of cold disapproval settling over his features.

"She’s in your way, Maxwell. Can’t you see that? She’s making you weak. Distracted. You’re better than this. Better than wasting yourself on some nobody who..."

A wave crashed particularly hard, and I remembered suddenly that Olivia was still out there.

Still in the water.

Still drowning.