The more she yelled, the more Max wanted to bolt. She was distracted, she was delirious, she was enraged. If he ran fast, he could beat her to the door and disappear. But why wasn't he running? It was like his feet were glued to the spot. Was this what his victims felt like? Because if so, it sucked. No wonder they were such whiners, he didn't want to be in this situation at all!
Her words were white noise, up until she said she was going to make him remember. His eyes widened, and his heart stopped. Bruises. Oh no. Oh shit. Oh fuck. She wasn't hurting him. She was hurting Brian. He would go to sleep and forget all of this. He could deal with the knowledge and the suffering. But Brian would wake up with a swollen face and bruises on his chest, and he'd never know why. He'd be in pain, all because this bitch couldn't just walk away.
It couldn't happen. Brian couldn't suffer for this.
When she lunged, Max tried to bolt, but found himself trapped by her attack. Immediately, he covered his face. He took knees to the gut, scratches across his arms, and blows to the ears. But he protected Brian's face, kept it safe from any cuts or further bruises. Everything in him drove him to ball up, to conceal, to protect. He barely heard her screaming, only focused on the sound of her limbs crashing into him.
Finally, she seemed to subside, and he lowered his arms just slightly. He looked up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Okay," he sputtered, feeling his ribs ache. "Are you done yet?" That came out meaner than he had intended. And it was the worst thing to say.
He screeched as the mace hit his eyes, flailing backwards and slamming his head into the wall. "What the fuck?" he demanded, reaching up and wiping at his eyes with his shirt. The burning was horrible, something he never could have imagined, and he had to resist the urge to dig Brian's eyes out of their sockets with his fingernails.
Beneath the pain, he hoped that this was it. That she'd had her fill, and never bother Brian. Oh god, if she saw him. Max wiped frantically at his eyes, rocking back and forth with pain and worry. "You've got me!" he shouted, slamming his head back into the wall again. "You've fucking paid me back!" Heaving a breath, he forced his eyes open through the pain, staring at her blearily. "Don't you ever fucking talk to me again."
Though he was hunched pathetically, there was an edge in his face and the sudden tension in his muscles that brought back the predatory Max that had beaten her. For a few seconds, he wasn't pathetic and hunched, but dangerous again. His voice was harder than diamond as he spoke, breath shuddering in and out of his lungs. "This. Is it. You've had your fucking revenge. If you try it again, I won't make the mistake I did last time."