Olivia’s POV
The words felt like a heavy blow.
No. No, no, no.
I’d been playing games, testing him, pushing his boundaries. But I didn’t actually want him to leave.
I didn’t want him to give up.
I opened my mouth, ready to break down and confess, ready to tell him not to go, ready to drop the act entirely...
"I need to go out there and look for the intruder," Maxwell continued.
I stared at him, my confession dying on my lips.
"What?"
"The intruder," he repeated. "I need to find him. Before he can hurt you again."
Relief and concern warred inside me.
He wasn’t leaving because of me. He was leaving to protect me.
But that also meant...
"You want to go into the storm?" I asked, genuinely alarmed now. "Maxwell, that’s insane. It’s still raining, the ground is going to be slippery and dangerous. Where would you even start looking?"
"I’ll go into town," he said, and there was a determination in his voice that scared me. "Get the police. Have them come out here and investigate properly. We can’t just wait around for him to strike again."
"Get the police?" I repeated. "In town? Maxwell, that’s miles away, and what if I get attacked while you’re gone?"
"Ian will be here with you," he said. "I’ll make sure you’re safe with him before I leave."
Ian. Right. The neighbor who’d saved our lives.
"I’ll find the intruder," Maxwell continued. "I’ll make sure he can’t hurt you ever again."
I was torn now. Genuinely torn.
Part of me - the part that had been playing games and enjoying his torment - wanted to tell him not to be ridiculous, that we should wait out the storm together.
But another part - the part that remembered the terror of being chased across the beach with a knife-wielding maniac behind me - wanted him to go. Wanted him to find whoever that was and make sure I was safe.
"Is there another reason you want to find the intruder right now? Immediately?" I asked carefully.
Maxwell hesitated, then nodded.
"I didn’t know when the right time to tell you this was," he said quietly. "But I know who the intruder is."
My blood ran cold. Of course he knew.
"Who?"
He met my eyes, and I saw guilt and pain and something that looked like shame.
"My father," he said.
For a moment, I couldn’t process the words.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
"I’m so sorry, Olivia," Maxwell said, and his voice cracked. "This is all my fault. Ever since I came into your life, I’ve endangered you. Messed up your life. Put you in harm’s way. I’m going to make this right. I swear to you, I’m going to fix this."
I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
His father. The man who’d tried to kill me was Maxwell’s father.
"How?" I finally managed. "How is that even possible? The intruder - he said he wanted to kill me to make you pay. What kind of father does that to his son? Plus, you’ve never mentioned anything about your father before. I didn’t even know he was alive."
Maxwell’s jaw tightened, and he looked away.
"It started about ten years ago," he said, his voice hollow. "My father started acting... unstable. Making erratic business decisions. Becoming increasingly paranoid and aggressive. He started embezzling from the company to fund his addictions - drugs, gambling, you name it. He’d spend his days in drug houses and his nights at clubs, burning through money like it was nothing."
I listened, horror growing with each word.
"Then one day, he tried to kill himself," Maxwell continued. "The doctors evaluated him and confirmed what we’d all suspected - he was mentally unstable. Dangerous. They recommended he be committed to a psychiatric facility."
He paused, his hands clenching into fists.
"He refused to go. Kept trying to escape. They had to use restraints. Eventually, they had to chain him to his bed because he was a danger to himself and others."
My hand flew to my mouth.
"Maxwell..."
"I’m the one who signed the papers," he said, and there was so much pain in his voice. "I’m the one who authorized the restraints. The chains. And then..."
He took a shaky breath.
"Then there was a fire. The whole building went up in flames. Some people escaped, but some of the patients died. My father..." His voice broke. "He was confirmed dead. They said he died in his room because he couldn’t get out of the chains."
I unconsciously leaned closer.
"I felt so guilty," he whispered. "If I hadn’t authorized those restraints, if I hadn’t insisted on the chains, he would have escaped with the others. He’d still be alive. It was my decision that killed him."
"But he’s not dead," I said quietly.
Maxwell nodded.
"Apparently not," he said. "Somehow, he escaped. Faked his death. And now he’s out there, clearly still unstable, targeting you to hurt me."
He stood up, his expression hardening.
"That’s why I need to find him," he said. "He’s insane, Olivia. There’s no telling what he might do next. I need to stop him before he hurts you again."
I stood too, my mind racing.
"You’re going to go to town?" I asked. "Get the police?"
"Yes. I’ll get dressed, then take you to Ian’s place..."’He paused, something flickering across his face. "Is Ian someone who can be trusted?"
I thought about Ian. His easy confidence. The way he’d saved us without hesitation.
"He practically saved our lives," I pointed out. "Nursed us back to health. That should count for something."
Maxwell nodded, but his expression remained wary.
"Still," he said. "I want you to stay alert while you’re with him. Vigilant. I don’t want to leave you with him, but I don’t have a choice. And I promise I’ll be back before nightfall."
He looked at me intently.
"And Olivia? Don’t tell Ian where I’m going. For your safety. The fewer people who know, the better."
I nodded, my earlier playfulness completely forgotten.
This was serious. Real. Dangerous.
And Maxwell was about to walk out into it alone.
Part of me wanted to stop him. To tell him not to go.
But another part - the part that could still feel the knife-wielding madman chasing me across the beach - knew he was right.
This needed to end.
Before someone got killed.
"Be careful," I said softly.
Maxwell’s expression softened, and he reached out like he wanted to touch me, then seemed to remember himself and dropped his hand.
"I will," he promised. "And I’ll come back."