Chapter 222: The Line We Didn’t Cross
It didn’t take long for Abby to let Max into her house. For one, he was soaking wet, and it was late at night.
But more importantly, it was the first time, the very first time, that Max had ever actively sought her out.
Although Abby felt a little embarrassed about her bright yellow duck pajamas and the fact that she had absolutely no makeup on, she didn’t let it show. With a calm expression and her usual gentle smile, she handed Max a towel.
"You’re soaking wet," she said. "I think it might be better if you take a shower and change into some dry clothes. My dad’s should fit you. He won’t mind."
There were no immediate questions from her. No why are you here , no what happened . Not yet.
That was just the kind of person Abby was, the best kind of person to be around when someone needed time to sit in their thoughts.
Max didn’t decline. He nodded silently and decided to use the downstairs bathroom. After grabbing a change of clothes, he turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, letting the warmth pour over his body.
While he was inside, Abby sat alone at her small kitchen island.
’Max is here... in the middle of the night... and right now he’s using my shower...’ she thought, her heart starting to beat faster. ’That means he’s completely naked... and he’s only a few feet away from me...’
Her face flushed red, and then even redder as the thoughts spiraled.
’And... his chicken would be out too!’
Meanwhile, Max had fallen into his own sea of thoughts.
’Why did I come here? Why did my feet bring me to this house... to her?’
He had done some research on Abby too. He remembered reading that she’d lost her mother. Apparently, that had been something the old Max and Abby had bonded over, a shared pain from losing a parent.
Her father was still alive, but he worked on an offshore oil rig. The job paid well, but it was dangerous, and it meant he was gone for long stretches of time.
He had only started that job recently, after Abby turned sixteen, old enough to be left on her own. But that also meant Abby had spent a lot of time alone... and she’d filled that void with games. That’s how she and Max had gotten to know each other.
But being alone, vulnerable in a world like this... that also made her an easy target.
Just outside, a number of men were stationed around every corner of the building. Even in a nearby apartment block, people with binoculars were watching her home, their eyes trained on every movement.
One of them made a call.
"Our target has made contact with an unknown male," the voice reported. "We’re keeping eyes on the situation. How should we proceed?"
On the other end of the line, Aron was driving Mira back to his place, ensuring her safety.
"Can you describe what the man looks like?" Aron asked.
After receiving a few identifying details, a faint smile formed on his lips.
"Don’t interfere," Aron said calmly. "That man will do her no harm."
Back inside, Max had just finished his shower. With a towel wrapped around his waist, water still glistening on his skin, he walked into the kitchen.
"You said there were some dry clothes for me?" Max asked casually.
Abby’s eyes were glued to him. She couldn’t look away from the chiseled abs in front of her. She’d always thought of Max as more of a slim, sleek type, but now, seeing him up close without bruises, she could tell just how athletic his body really was.
The rapid improvements from his recent training were starting to show. Max now had the body of someone in their prime, lean, powerful, built from discipline and intensity.
Years of prepping his body for fighting, understanding proper meal planning, staying energized yet lean, he knew exactly how to sculpt himself. And with no shortage of funds, he never had to compromise on quality either.
"I left the clothes for you by the staircase," Abby answered, her voice shaky.
Max nodded and headed off. The clothes were, thankfully, just a pair of brown cotton pajamas. He was relieved they weren’t anything too formal, he didn’t feel right wearing something overly personal belonging to her father.
After getting dressed, Max returned to the living room and slumped into the couch, lost in thought.
"I heard the news," Abby said softly. "The whole school’s been talking... They said it was Jay who got hit."
Before she could say more, Max cut her off with three words.
"He’s dead... He’s dead... and it’s all my fault."
The floodgates opened.
Max began explaining everything. From the hospital visit... to meeting Jay’s sister... to the moment the car had come flying at them. How Jay had thrown himself into the path and saved them both.
Abby listened in silence, sitting beside him as the weight of his words filled the room. Eventually, without saying anything, she gently took his hands in hers, rubbing them softly, trying to give comfort where words couldn’t.
"Max," she said, "in this world... you can’t control everyone’s actions. It’s impossible. You weren’t responsible for everything that happened."
She held his gaze, her voice steady and warm.
"Sure, you wish you could have done more. That’s only natural. But it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling."
Then, her hand moved to his cheek. She tilted his chin slightly toward her, and their eyes met.
For a brief moment, the air between them shifted.
Abby leaned in, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips gently against Max’s.
She wasn’t thinking about anything else. She didn’t want to overanalyze or second-guess. She just wanted to feel something real.
But before it could go any further, she felt a hand press gently against her forehead, pushing her away.
"Sorry, Abby," Max said quietly. "I can’t do this. It’s not you... it just doesn’t feel right."
Abby stood up quickly and turned away, cheeks flushed.
"No, no, it was me. I forced it," she said. "Don’t be ridiculous."
"You’re a good person, Abby," Max replied. "Maybe if you were a little older... things could’ve worked out differently between us."
Abby turned around, smiling through the awkwardness.
"I didn’t know you were into older women," she teased, a small laugh slipping through.
And while the warmth of their conversation settled in the quiet room, elsewhere in Notting Hill City... something far more dangerous was beginning to stir.
"Corno, we’ve found Chad," Na reported.