The Consequence of Loving Colton

He didn’t smile.

He gripped the ax in his hands, and walked right by us, like a man on a mission.

“What the hell is he doing?” Colton asked aloud.

“Beats me.” Jason shrugged.

Max continued to walk. He finally stopped in front of a giant oak tree—and started swinging.

“I’m a man, damn it!” He swung again, pieces of bark flying as he massacred the old tree, swing after swing after swing.

“Ahhhh,” the guys said in unison as if they suddenly understood why my best friend had lost his mind.

“What? What’s this ahhh?” I shrieked. “Max grew up in the city. Until today I didn’t even think he knew what an ax was, let alone how to use one!”

“Manhood.” Colton shook his head. “Poor bastard, he’s trying to find his manhood. Damn, that pre-bachelorette must have been hell.”

“The things he’s seen.” Jason’s voice cracked. “And actually survived.” He removed his baseball hat and bowed his head. “He’s a hero.”

“He had tea,” I argued.

“Some wounds . . .” Colton agreed. “They’re on the inside? And that’s what’s going to be the hardest for him, you know, when he pulls through.”

“Pull through, big guy!” Jason shouted. “You pull through!”

As if Max had just earned a Purple Heart, he dropped the ax onto the ground, fell to his knees, and gave out a war cry.

“Let it go, buddy.” Colton nodded. “You let it go.”

You know that whole Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus theory? Yeah. I was living it. It was as if they were from a different planet.

Slowly we walked toward Max as he rose to his feet.

I opened my mouth to talk but Colton put his hand over my lips and said softly, “Give him a minute. Victims of this type of assault usually need to be the first to speak. It gives them their power back.”

I rolled my eyes as Colton removed his hand.

Max lifted his head and shuddered. “I . . . I . . . I think I need to take off my pants, make sure my balls are still there and all, you know, just in case.”

“Dude.” Jason put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “You do what you gotta do, you hear me?”

Max nodded, then looked at me. “You’re one of them.”

“Huh?”

“A girl,” he spit. “You’re one of them.”

“Uhhh.” I reached out but was nearly tackled to the ground as Colton grabbed me from behind.

“They touched me,” Max whispered.

“Good touch or bad touch?” I asked, struggling in Colton’s arms.

“Safe to assume, it was probably all bad touch.” Jason nodded knowingly like he was an authority on the topic. “By the looks of the marks on his arms, there was an obvious struggle.”

Max nodded.

“Yeah.” Colton released me and went over to Max’s side. “A few pieces of hair missing—catfight?”

He nodded again as Colton leaned in and sniffed.

“They marked you.”

He whispered. “At first it was fun—”

“Always is.” Jason whistled.

“And then . . .” Max swallowed. “They all wanted to hang out and I couldn’t keep their names straight, and then I was hit with this wall of expensive perfume, and someone put something in my drink, I swear I’m not making this up! I swear they drugged me. The room started spinning, they all wanted to talk, and then a few of them started asking me why men were stupid, and then they said we hate men . . .” His lower lip trembled as he repeated in a weak voice, “We hate men.”

“Dude, you don’t have to keep going,” Colton said tenderly. “We got you.”

“No.” Max stumbled away. “This needs to be said, damn it!”

Colton held up his hands in defeat.

“Then they . . .” Max rubbed his arms. “They touched me, ripped my shirt open, said that I was the only one who understood them, that I wasn’t like those other men and then . . .” His eyes found mine. “They kissed me, like seven of them, all bridesmaids. A few were married. I tried to pull away but they have claws masquerading as acrylic nails. They dug into my skin, and the crazy part, when I tried to run—they liked it!”

“They do, man, they always do. It’s like getting attacked by a bear, you just cover your head and pray it will be over soon.”

I raised my hand. “Hate to break up whatever this is, but I gotta know, did Jayne own up to it?”

All eyes flashed to my face like I’d just told Max to go back to the women and offer himself up as a male sacrifice.

“No.” Max’s shoulders slumped. “Every time I tried to get her alone, another girl would follow. Jayne just wasn’t into the whole scene. She was on her phone half the time talking to some chick about the bachelorette party.” He rolled his eyes and mimicked her voice. “ ‘Oh, it will be so fun, shooters! I can’t wait for shooters.’ ”

I jumped into Max’s arms in excitement.

He dropped me and started screaming, “Get away, get away!”

“She’s not pregnant!” I yelled.

“How do you figure?” Colton pulled me away from a shaking Max.

“Would you be excited about shooters if you couldn’t actually drink them?”

“No,” the guys said in unison. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">