Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 297

Maxwell’s POV

She’d slid off the toilet seat and was now on the floor, her back against the wall, her eyes unfocused and distant.

"He’s killing my parents," she whispered, her voice hollow and broken. "He’s going to kill my parents."

She kept repeating it, over and over, like a prayer or a curse.

"He’s killing my parents. He’s going to kill my parents."

"OLIVIA!" I tried to get through to Mrs. Hopton one more time, but the line had gone chaotic - screaming, crashing sounds, crying.

I made a split-second decision and ended the call.

Then I grabbed my phone from the floor.

"This is an emergency," I said quickly, clearly. "I need police and ambulance sent to..." I rattled off the Hoptons’ address, my voice steady despite the terror clawing at my insides. "There’s an intruder. Someone’s been hurt. Send everyone you can. Now."

The dispatcher started asking questions, but I was already pulling up Kennedy’s number.

He answered on the second ring.

"Maxwell? What..."

"Get to your parents’ house," I cut him off, my voice sharp and urgent. "Right now. My father is there and I think... I think he’s hurt your dad. Your mom was screaming. Just get there. Now. And call the police immediately."

"What?" Kennedy’s voice rose in panic. "What are you talking about? Your father’s dead..."

"He’s not dead and he’s at your parents’ house right now!" I shouted. "Just GO!"

I ended the call and looked up.

Olivia was standing.

Or trying to stand, swaying slightly, her eyes still distant and unfocused.

She was moving toward the door, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, like a puppet on strings.

"I need to go," she was muttering. "I need to get to them. I need to..."

"Olivia, stop." I moved to block her path.

But she just tried to go around me, her movements becoming more frantic.

"I need to go to my parents," she said, her voice rising. "They need me. He’s killing them and I need to..."

"You can’t go!" I grabbed her shoulders, trying to make her focus on me. "Olivia, it’s still storming out there. The roads are dangerous. We’re hours away..."

"I DON’T CARE!" She screamed, and the sound was so raw, so full of pain that it physically hurt to hear.

She started fighting against my grip, trying to pull away, her fists pounding against my chest.

"Let me go! I need to get to them! They need me!"

"The police are on their way," I said, holding her tighter even as she struggled. "And Kennedy is going. They’ll get there faster than we can. You need to..."

"NO!" She was sobbing now, still fighting, still trying to break free. "You don’t understand! He’s going to kill them! Your father is going to kill my parents and it’s my fault! It’s all my fault because I’m the one he wants! If I just go back, if I just..."

"Stop it!" I pulled her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her even as she struggled. "This is not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"Let me go!" She was screaming and crying and hitting my chest, trying desperately to break free. "I need to save them! Please, Maxwell, please let me go!"

But I held on.

Held her tight against me while she fought and screamed and sobbed.

Because letting her go meant letting her drive out in this dangerous storm - when she couldn’t even drive - to a house where my psychotic father was currently...

I couldn’t finish the thought.

Couldn’t let myself imagine what we’d heard over the phone. What those screams had meant. What state we’d find Mr. Hopton in when - if - we got there.

"I’ve got you," I murmured into her hair, my own voice breaking. "I’ve got you, Olivia. I’m not letting you go. I’m not letting you put yourself in danger."

"My parents," she sobbed against my chest, her struggles growing weaker. "Maxwell, my parents. What if they... what if he..."

"Kennedy will get there," I said, even though I had no idea if that was true. "The police will get there. They’ll be okay. They have to be okay."

But even as I said it, I could still hear Mrs. Hopton’s screams echoing in my head.

The terror. The anguish. The desperate pleas for her husband to wake up.

Wake up.

As if he’d been unconscious.

Or worse.

Olivia was still crying, her sobs shaking her entire body, but she’d stopped fighting.

Now she just clung to me, her fists gripping my shirt, her face buried against my chest.

"This is my fault," she whispered brokenly. "All of it. Since you came into my life, everything’s gone wrong. Your father is trying to kill the people I love because of me. Because he wants to hurt you through me."

"No," I said fiercely, pulling back just enough to look at her face. "This is not your fault. This is my father’s fault. This is the fault of a sick, twisted man who should have stayed dead. You didn’t ask for any of this."

"But if I had just..."

"No," I interrupted, cupping her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of a madman. This is on him. Only him."

Tears were streaming down her face, and she looked so broken, so devastated, that I wanted to go back in time and strangle my father myself before any of this could happen.

"What if they die?" she whispered. "What if they’re already..."

"They’re not," I said firmly, even though I had no way of knowing. "They’re going to be fine. We’re going to get through this. All of us."

She stared at me with red, puffy eyes, and I could see she didn’t believe me.

Didn’t believe anything would ever be fine again.

And honestly? I wasn’t sure I believed it either.

But I had to try. Had to give her something to hold onto.

"Come here," I said softly, pulling her back against my chest. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

This time she didn’t fight. Just collapsed against me, her body wracked with sobs, holding my shirt desperately like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.