Max And Megan Ch 04 1

Max Roberts walked as fast as he could towards the construction site he was currently supposed to be working at. Megan's new boy toy had left him no choice but to walk back. He hoped the supervisor wasn't going to be a dick to him today for being late back from lunch. He hadn't even gotten to eat.

As he neared the site, he saw the man in question. And boy, did he not look happy. "Look, I'm sorry. The asshole I left with dumped me out, and-" He was cut off abruptly.

"Save the bullshit. Go home. We finished up while you were off with your boyfriend." There was a time when Max would have decked him for that comment, but now he realized it wasn't worth losing a job over. He said nothing and began walking towards Megan's house.

"Want a ride?" Jack, one of his Army buddies asked. It was thanks to Jack that Max had gotten the job at the construction company.

"Thanks." Max climbed in the car.

After a few minutes of driving, Max was once again in front of the faded blue house. Jordan's car was parked in the driveway behind Megan's little red car.

Steeling himself for the worst, he went into the house. When he shut the door he was quickly aware of the fact an argument was going on upstairs. Jordan's voice carried down the stairs, and Max guessed they hadn't heard him come in.

"You let him come in here. If you won't take care of it, I will. I've got too much in this house for you to be letting strangers into the damn place!" Max wasn't sure what Jordan had meant by that. The house looked the same as ever, just with new pictures of her husband and a myriad of photos featuring Christian. He quietly climbed the stairs in order to overhear them better.

"He's not a threat. He's just an old friend. That's all." Megan's voice took on a pleading tone. "Please, don't do this."

Max heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol clip being snapped into place. His blood went cold. Was Jordan so threatened by him that he'd try to murder him?

"Please Jordan! I'm sure he'd leave. Don't do this!" Megan begged.

Max backed down the stairs and went back out the door. Before he could decide what to do next, Jordan appeared in the doorway. Megan followed behind him. As far as he could see, Jordan had the gun hidden and not in plain sight.

"I want you to leave." Jordan hissed at Max as he closed the distance between them.

Megan grabbed Jordan's arm and tried to hold him back. He glared at her and pointed towards the front door. "Go inside."

"No. Leave Max alone."

"I said go inside." Jordan spun around angrily and grabbed her arm roughly, shoving her towards the house. He slapped her face when she refused.

Max had seen enough, he lunged for Jordan. He yanked his arm from Megan's. "You leave her alone." With his free hand, he pushed her out of the way and blocked Jordan's path to her. "You don't ever hit a woman!" Max threw a right hook, smacking him in the jaw.

Jordan was not expecting it, and the force sent him backwards onto the driveway, crashing into the side of his car. Reaching back into his hair, he brought his hand back in front of him, a crimson red stain on his fingers. "Why you son of a bitch!" He jumped off the ground and grabbed the gun from his hip, aiming it right at Max's head. "I swear to God I'll blow your fucking brains out."

"Just put the gun down. You don't want to waste your life for nothing." Max said calmly. "You aren't going to hurt anyone by killing me, except yourself and your family."

"Shut up, Max." Megan begged. "Jordan, please. He'll leave!" She looked frantically at Max, trying to get him to do just that. "Just settle down, please, let's talk."

As the trio stood outside in the front driveway, they suddenly became aware of screeching tires in the distance. As they momentarily forgot their own situation, they watched a silver SUV round the bend at a high rate of speed. Jordan suddenly dropped his gun and ran towards the house. Max thought it was strange of him to do that, but before he could fully process it, he found out why.

The vehicle slowed and the tinted rear window rolled down. Max saw the long barrel of a gun poke out and seconds later the person holding it began spraying the house, the cars, and even them with bullets. Max dove for Megan after grabbing the abandoned gun Jordan had dropped, shoving her out of the barrage. He shoved her against the front of the car, bullets wedging themselves into the metal with ease beside his head. He covered her body with his, hoping that they didn't get out of the vehicle. He aimed and fired, but the shots he fired missed as the SUV quickly sped off, tires screeching.

A choking sound came from under Max. His face turned pale with the sound. He'd heard it before, too many times before. He looked down to see Megan's eyes wide in shock, and then she collapsed against him. Blood was gushing from her neck.

"Megan!" He screamed. Tearing his shirt off, he shoved it roughly against her neck, putting pressure on the gushing wound.

Jordan appeared at the front door.

"Call 911 before she bleeds to death!" Max yelled at him. Jordan turned and ran back inside the house.

"Megan, you need to stay awake." Max ordered. Her eyes flashed open, looked at him for only half a second, then drifted shut.

"You are not going to die on me. Do you hear me?"

"Megan, please." She was starting to look very pale, and her breathing was shallow and ragged. She had lost a lot of blood it seemed, his shirt was soaked thoroughly. "You have a boy to take care of, you can't just leave him."

'Or me.' He thought, but didn't say aloud.

"Christian and Jordan need you." Max didn't know why he had said that, but he was scared she would die. He knew how serious it was. She only had a minute or two before it'd be too late. He held her as carefully as he could without shifting his hand from pressing on her neck.

"Come on now, you can't expect us guys to raise Christian. You're good at soothing nightmares and all the mom stuff."

As he finished, the paramedics and police rushed to the scene and took over. As quickly as they had rushed in, they seemingly ran back out moments later taking Megan, leaving Max alone, shirtless and covered in her blood.

***

After what seemed like forever, the police let Max go. Jordan was with Megan so Max had to grab Christian from school. The poor boy was already crying when he picked him up.

Max's mind was in a million places at once. How had this happened? Would she be strong enough to pull through? What about her son? Their son? Max glanced over at him. He had settled down enough, his face beet red from crying.

Soon, they reached the parking lot to the hospital. He parked the car in the only spot he could find and got out. Christian stayed in the car, looking towards the door. Max went around to the passengers' side and opened the door. "Come on, kiddo." He didn't get out. Reaching in, he unbuckled him and with some difficulty picked him up.

Max walked quickly into the emergency room entrance. There was a desk straight ahead, with a waiting area on the left of the entrance. A big fish tank lined the wall, the colorful fish were in stark contrast to the clinical white tiles and wall color. A single TV hung from the ceiling, some sort of cartoon was on.

A stocky woman sat behind the desk. "May I help you?" She asked as he neared.

"They brought in his mother. She had a gunshot wound to the neck. Megan Peterson, at least I think it's still Peterson." He rushed.

The woman told him just a moment, picked up the phone on her desk and talked to what he assumed was a nurse or doctor. She thanked them and hung up.

"I can tell you she's in surgery, you can find her husband in the surgical waiting room, and he can tell you the rest. Legal reasons, I'm sure you understand. It's on floor number two."

Max thanked her and carried Christian towards the elevator, which was on the right side of the entrance. If she was in surgery then she was still alive. It was small comfort.

"See Christian, your mom is a fighter. They are fixing her up." Max told him on the short ride up to the next floor.

When they rounded the corner of the surgical ward, they saw Jordan sitting in a chair. He was starting to have a bruise on his jaw.

Max tried to set Christian down, but he squealed and held on tighter, so he just settled for sitting with him in his lap. "How is she?"

"Bad." Jordan said quietly. He refused to look Max in the eyes. "They don't even think..." He didn't finish. He didn't need to. "I called Hal, he's going to catch a plane."

"She is a fighter." He didn't know if she still was, but maybe there was a chance.

"Is my mom going to die?" Christian looked up at Max with sad green eyes. His momma's eyes.

"No." Max said forcefully.

"Don't lie to him." Jordan countered. "She lost a lot of blood, it nicked her artery. She was nearly dead when we got here."

Christian began crying into Max's shirt. Max glared at Jordan. "Don't tell him that. You don't know her. I've known her since she was little. She wouldn't let go like that."

Jordan got up and went over towards the receptionist's desk.

Christian leaned back, and sniffled. "You knew my mom when she was little?"

"I sure did." Max nodded. "She was my neighbor for a long time."

"Really?" He sounded flabbergasted.

"Yep, she was the little girl next door."

"I think you need a Band-Aid." Christian told him, and then pointed it out on his own face where it was. "You have a cut on your face and there's blood."

"That's not a cut, it's a scar."

"From what?"

"Well, I was in the Army and the bad guys tried to hurt us." Max left it as plain as he could. They had been waiting on a side street when a suicide bomber had ignored warnings to stop and tried to kill them. The blast had killed two of his buddies and had sent shrapnel into him, burying him under the wreckage.

Christian thought about it for a while. He snuggled up against Max. "My dad is in the Army."

Jordan walked back over with something in his hands. It was a wad of wet paper towels. He handed them to Max. "Here, you have blood all over your face and arms." Max looked down. He was right. He set about wiping it off.

"Did you find out anything?"

"No, they are still working on her. She's flat-lined twice." Flat-lined, meaning she'd died twice. Max swallowed hard.

He would never forgive himself if she died. It was his fault it had happened. If he would have just signed the papers Jordan had thrown at him, she wouldn't be here. She would have been inside, instead of standing outside. But he didn't want to sign them. He had never thought about being a father, or even wanting to be one. Holding Christian, he seemed to be doing an okay job of it.

***

Four hours later they still sat in the chairs waiting for any news. A doctor walked out of the swinging doors that closed off the public from entering the surgical hallway. He was dressed in green scrubs and was clean shaven.

"Mr. Winters?" He questioned the men.

"That's me." Jordan stood up quickly.

"Your wife is out of surgery and is in recovery. The bullet hit her carotid artery; she lost a lot of blood and is very weak. She's not breathing well on her own. If she has any family, you might call them and tell them to come say goodbye." He looked apologetically towards him.

"Her father is on his way. Can I see her?" Jordan asked.

"I'm afraid not Sir." The doctor looked at him weird.

Two police officers stepped out of the elevator and walked towards him. "Jordan Winters? You need to come with us."

"What the hell is this?" Jordan yelled at him. "My wife is in there dying and you're having me arrested?"

"I fucking hate you!" Jordan twisted and yelled at Max as they walked him towards the elevator. "It's all your fault she's going to die."

Christian cringed and began crying into Max's shirt.

"Shh, it's ok."

"Who are you to her?" The doctor asked him.

"She's my son's mother."

He nodded and looked at the boy. "He can say goodbye in a little while." Even though it was said quietly, it caused him to cry even harder. "I'm sorry. I better get back in there."

"Your mom will be okay. It's just in case, it doesn't mean that she will, Christian." Max hugged him. At least, he hoped so.

"You told him you were my dad."

"I know."

"Are you?" He asked.

Max thought about it. He could say yes, and risk hurting the kid, who probably thought of Jordan as his father by now. Or he could say no, and keep the lie a secret.

"You look like the guy in the picture, only older." Christian commented, wrinkling his nose.

"Hey, you little brat I'm not that old." Max chuckled and poked him in the arm.

"Older than me." He giggled. "Papa!"' Christian launched himself off of Max when he saw him step out of the elevator.

Hal hugged him and walked over to Max. "How is she?"

"Pretty bad. She's lost a lot of blood." Max filled him in on all that had happened, and what he had overheard them telling Jordan.

Christian climbed back in Max's lap. Snuggling up to him, he looked at his Papa who sat next to them.

"He looks like you, but with Megan's eyes." Hal commented, getting up from the seat. "I'm going to go talk to the nurse."

***

An hour later Hal had somehow convinced the nurse to let him in to see Megan. He came out looking ragged and pale. He sat heavily in the chair beside Max, who had the boy asleep in his lap.

"She looks terrible." He wiped his red eyes. "They have her attached to all sorts of machines. Have you been in yet?"

Max shook his head no. "I'm not family."

"Oh, nonsense. You've been family all your life. She'd want you in there."

"She'd probably want Jordan. They took him to jail. Something about drug paraphernalia in his car, I guess." Max explained. He'd gotten that bit of information from overhearing Jordan being arrested.

"Good, I hope he rots in there." Hal said angrily. "I'm going to go have a chat with the nurse. You should be in there."

***

A few minutes later, Max was led through the swinging doors and down a long sterile hallway. The nurse pointed to a closed door. "It's this room. You can be in there for fifteen minutes."

He thanked her, took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It was a small room, with only a single window on the far wall. The blinds were closed. He saw her pale form under a white sheet. Machines of all kinds lined up beside the bed. Tubes ran from seemingly everywhere above her, some ended on her arms and some disappeared under the gown she wore.

The bed was set at a diagonal with the foot of it a few feet from the door. He did not realize he was holding his breath until then. She was so pale. Her eyes were closed.

A hose ran from a machine to the right of the bed, and ended right at the base of her throat. It was attached to a small contraption that stuck out from under her skin. He knew from his Army experience that it was a tracheotomy. It helped her to breathe when she couldn't breathe through her throat normally. It let out puffs of air at timed intervals.

He walked over to the bed, unsure of what to do. He was afraid to touch her, lest he hurt her, she looked so fragile. "Hey Megan, it's me."

'Wow that was original' he thought to himself.

He reached out and touched her hand which was lying by her side. She was freezing cold. He swore he felt her squeeze his hand, as light as a butterfly but all the same. His eyes flew up to hers. Her eyes were open only far enough to show she was aware he was there. "Hey, you."

She opened her mouth to say something. Max stopped her by placing his finger over her lips. "Shh, don't talk. You have a tube in your throat." She blinked and closed her eyes.

"Don't give up on us, Meg. You keep on fighting." He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. He had never felt like crying as much in his life as he did now. Somehow, with some difficulty he managed not to.

The nurse cracked open the door, quietly telling him he needed to say goodbye and go back out to the waiting area. He nodded. "They are booting me out of here. I'll be back soon, you rest up, and don't you even think about letting go." He watched her eyes flick open, then close.

He kissed her forehead again, and went back to the waiting room, feeling like he had a million pounds on top of his shoulders. Even though he had never been the best man to her, he was finally feeling all the guilt for it.

To be continued...

(Thank you to A.G. for looking over the story for me.)