Is It Ever Enough?

Chapter 44

There were very few things that could truly calm Maya Bishop down. Once that switch was flipped, that valve released, that trigger pulled, very little could be done to stop the impending hurricane from reaching landfall. Maya knew it all too well, she recognized it's signs, stalking her conscious mind in the night and waiting for her guard to let up just enough for Hurricane Maya to come through full force.

She never wanted it to happen, really.

She much preferred being orderly and regimented. She hated when she flew off the handle like that. She hated when the winds kicked up, when they started to howl, when branches broke, and torrential rain came. The reckless, impulsive, spiteful and downright nasty demeanor that would pull over Maya's being was not something she enjoyed.

She felt like a puppet on a string, with Lane and her unstable thoughts at the helm in the rafters.

It drained more and more of her will and innocence every time. It was like each time the storm pattern moved in, a heavier dose of venom would sink its way into her festering wounds, and she'd spit even more at anyone in her path.

Every time she lost that control, a little more of her clouds would creep closer, a little more of that darkness would grab her by the throat, tightening its grip on the innocence and carefree attitude that she secretly wept to hold on to. That darkness kept trying to steal the light brought forth by Carina.

At her core, Maya was a softy. A people pleaser. A rule follower. A devout, noble, loyal and blindingly stubborn individual. Though she had only been taught the idea of "team" once she joined nineteen, she quickly learned that she preferred it against being a rogue soldier. She found comfort in the numbers. She like making breakfast and talking hookups and firegasms and having people to lean on when her own mind was so dark, she was scared to be alone. She would never admit these things aloud, but the comfort of having her team to throw her attention at was something she really enjoyed. It kept her safe, it got her by. That was until Carina came around.

The long legged, svelte and absolutely breathtaking Italian had come right up into their bubble and fucked every single plan she had ever made.

And now here she was, in love, drowning and failing miserably to hang onto the light and safety of Carina. She was single handedly fucking it up.

And with each lie, and each broken promise, loneliness took a step forward. Isolation, pain and the clouds loomed dangerously near.

She wanted it to stay away. She wanted to let Carina in permanently. She wanted to be a team again, to lean into her family.

Logically, she could do that. It was just a matter of accepting the love and patience she was being shown. All she had to do was state the truth. Face herself. Come to terms with the person looking at her in the mirror of her guest bathroom.

Maya was too ashamed to rail her drugs in their bathroom. She couldn't do it while staring at the bras hanging on the shower rod and the purple toothbrush by the sink that stupid fucking expensive moisturizer.

It was like everywhere Maya looked in this god forsaken apartment, a dash of Carina was left behind, and it was almost mocking her at this point. The only place not marred by the Italian's influence was the guest bathroom, which was chock-full of Andy's touch, who had never fully moved out and stayed with her for days at a time.

The logical thing to do here would be to sober up, head to bed, and meet Carina in the morning. To put her tail between her legs and say sorry. To make up. To get sober.

But Maya couldn't do that right now. Maya was riddled with shame, and she had to find Mason. Carina had left her. Carina had given her the drugs. It was like she wanted her to fail, to prove her right. And Maya was not strong enough to argue with that battle tonight. There was no sense in anything left to do. No fucking point. Carina was gone. Promises broken. She couldn't even last the weekend sober.