Taylor’s POV

Max stumbled into the room, blood smeared across his chin, his eyes darting around like a scared animal boxed into a corner.

My gut twisted. My heart hammered in my chest. Something had happened.

“Max,” I said, keeping my voice steady as I reached for the towel on the counter. “What the hell happened?” I extended a hand to him, looking him over for any bigger wounds other than the bruises on his face.

He snatched the towel from my hand but didn’t answer. Instead, he wiped at the blood, his movements jerky, avoiding my gaze.

“Max,” I pressed, my tone sharpening. “Talk to me. Now.”

“Water,” he...