A few days later, Max headed out to collect the second part of his payment from Mathew's pack. He received the call that they confirmed Joe's death and that they were going to send a representative to authorize the payment for the car the day after he'd given Joe's head over. Max agreed to meet them and set up the meeting location for just outside of Mathew's territory.

As he left, he heard Amanda rummaging around in her room. He paused for a moment, then turned back to his bedroom. He grabbed the envelope he kept under his bed, pulled a few hundred from it and replaced the envelope. He walked into the living room to find Amanda coming out of her room. She was dressed casually, not in her work clothes. Her eyes were a bit puffy from sleep. Max glanced at the clock on the wall.

11:00.

He didn't comment on her late waking, instead crossing the room with his hand outstretched to hand her the cash. Amanda reared back, not having noticed him walking towards her.

She was distracted.

She looked at the cash in confusion.

"You already paid for this month's rent." She said, though she still accepted the cash from his hands.

Max shrugged. "For the months I didn't help."

She nodded, her brows remaining furrowed, as she watched him head back out. Max didn't say anything else as he stepped out of the door without another glance.

Amanda stood in the tiny living room still staring at the front door. It was a while before she sighed and turned away. Usually, Max didn't offer to help with rent. He always seemed like a bit of a cheapskate, in her opinion.

He shopped for his own food, and paid for his cell phone, but she rarely received any money for rent unless she asked. When he first moved in, she'd asked for it every month, like clockwork. It was weird asking him for money. It always made her feel…uneasy. Probably because in the beginning, he wouldn't look her in the eyes or even acknowledge her until she asked for it. It wasn't that he was afraid or unable to meet her eyes, more like….he'd forgotten she was there living with him. Like she was just part of the décor of the apartment rather than an actual person that lived with him, that breathed the same air and slept a few feet away from him.

He used to scare her.

She'd read somewhere that serial killers would often not see their victims as "people" and would be unable to recognize them as people, instead seeing them as things instead of something that was actually living. Like unopened boxes. It was eerie, the way he looked at her. Like she was…insignificant. He didn't talk to her unless she initiated conversation first. He never interacted with her in any real way.

The first few months were the most unpleasant she'd ever had living with someone. She'd lived with people that HATED her, and they didn't make her feel as uncomfortable and uneasy as he did.

That had kept up for quite a while, until that night she'd come home from one of her NA meetings in particularly bad shape. She needed a fix and wanted a distraction. She'd ended up making a pass at him and to her surprise, he didn't deny her.

The opposite, actually, he'd seemed…hungry.

As her mind shifted to that particular term, Amanda felt the hair on her arms raise as a chill shot down her spine.

She didn't dislike the fact that he was dangerous. And she knew without a doubt that he was probably one of the most dangerous people she'd ever met.

However….she knew that he wasn't good for her. And she was probably just as bad for him. She knew that he was keeping his distance for a reason. But…she felt this need to be more included. She wanted to be more to him. Her day to day monotonous life was so…boring. And he was so interesting and new and exciting.

Her life before she was clean could have been described as dangerous and unhealthy, but it was so exciting. She wanted something like that again.

Wanted to experience those feelings again.

Max stepped off the bus and began the ten block trek to the meeting place. He was on edge. He'd felt as if someone were watching him after getting on the second bus, but could see them no matter how much he searched.

Maybe he was just imagining things.

He frowned as the thought crossed his mind.

He'd never doubted his senses before. They had been what allowed him to survive as long as he had and had always placed the utmost trust in them. Trusting them had saved his life on more than one occasion.

He shook his head, dispelling his doubt in himself.

He wasn't going to second guess them, he decided.

But, choosing to believe and trust in his senses brought about an entirely new problem.

Because that meant someone was watching him. Following him.

Max remembered experiencing the same feeling a few days prior after he'd finished the job for Mathew's pack. He'd ignored the feeling as he'd assumed it was just Mathews boys keeping tabs on him because they wanted to make sure their members were safe during the drop off. After all, he hadn't felt it before they'd showed up. Which made sense.

But there was another possibility. And that was that someone that wasn't a member of Mathew's pack had followed his members to find Max.

Max frowned again.

He was starting to wonder how farfetched was too far. Wondering when he'd end up in conspiracy theory territory.

It didn't matter. He was currently too far away from home for them to be able to tell where he was staying and he was confident he could lose them on his way back.

Still, he planned on asking the contact that Mathew sent about the prying eyes. He probably wouldn't admit to it openly if they did send someone, but Max could maybe get a clue from his reaction.

With that thought, Max felt less uneasy and continued toward the meet up spot.

*Author note: This chapter was a bit shorter than most, sry.*