-1-

“…The son of a bitch fell right off the exam table when he saw it. The other privates had to help the medic get him into a bed,” St. John says with a small laugh.

Maxwell  couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting slightly at St. John’s  anecdote about the class of privates who’d arrived at Camp Harmony that morning for basic training.

Maybe he was still hungover.

Although, the portable IV pump hidden inside his jacket sleeve twas supposed to have cured him of that by now.

Maxwell hated St. John, but sitting with the man had somehow made him feel more congenial.  The two men sat alone like old friends at a table at the front of the crowded mess hall.

The RLA gave Maxwell authority  to imprison, torture and beat his subordinates into submission but those all took effort he didn’t feel like expending anymore. He’d been reading on psychological ways of keeping populations in order and he’d settled on making them feel like they were always being watched.

Which meant that, among other things, instead of taking his meals in his private office he’d eat his meals in the mess hall; giving the appearance he was always watching them.

“Can you imagine choosing to enlist in the RLA and being afraid of needles?,” St. John continues amused. “He took it well though, sir.”

“We still need a drill sergeant, Corporal,” Maxwell said deciding to change subjects. “Have any of your colleagues stood out to you ?,”

“Actually, yes. One of the new corporals headquarters sent over. Strange.”

“How so ?”

“No, sir I—mean Corp. Strange,” St. John corrected  quickly.

The mess hall had naturally divided itself into the black and teal collar and tie uniformed corporals on one side and enlisted privates in gray colored fatigues on the other. The inmates would eat later and have the leftover of the soldier’s meals.

St. John pointed to a crowded table of corporals who were all caught up in a story from the charismatic man in the center.

“Strange is a former graduate student like myself. He was the second best in his boot camp class.  The officers like him, the privates will respect him and he’s got a mean streak with the inmates.”

“Only second best in boot camp?,” Maxwell questions.

“I was the first,” St. John says

Maxwell nods his head and picks his sandwich back up but is too nauseated to actually eat it. He considers if Strange and St. John were better friends then they were letting on and possibly planning something;  perhaps teaming up to  overthrow him.

Maxwell notices heads snapping towards the back of the room as the mess hall doors slowly open. Maxwell’s eyes narrow as Haley ambles in and heads for Maxwell’s table. Maxwell’s hands  begin shake with fear about what Haley’s was about to do.

He was dressed and had somehow secured  the mass of tangled hair neatly under a cover, but he looked sickly; his skin was pallid, bruised bags hung under his eyes and a black stain was smeared across his pink lips.

 In his hand  was the plastic orange bracelet.

Maxwell stands on unsteady legs and approaches him, suddenly aware  of how silent the room had become. The corporals and privates were all watching him as his polished shoes slowly clicked across the floor.

 “What the hell did I tell you ?,” Maxwell barks when they  meet in the middle of the room.

“I-,”

“The only words I want to hear from you from now on are ‘yes, sir’ or ‘ I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up, sir’. Report to my office. Now.” he continues.

Haley pauses for a moment before turning around and  leaving. Maxwell wants to follow after him, but he has to save face. He walks back to his table with St. John and sits down.

“What was that about, sir ?,” St. John ventures.

“I have no fucking clue,” Maxwell replies.

***

 -2-

When lunch ends  Maxwell bolts to his office and makes a point of slamming the door. Haley had been  lying on the floor under the desk and stood up immediately.

Maxwell sits in his desk chair.

“What the hell was that ?,”Maxwell demands. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of sight ?”

“I--”

 “Listen to me, Haley.” Maxwell said in a hushed tone. “ I took it too far last night and I am sorry if I hurt you. But if you ever try to undermine me in front of my men or try to ruin me I will have no choice but to ruin you first. I will not be blackmailed by you. Do you understand ?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I  wasn’t going to talk to you about last night. I don’t care about…that,sir.” Haley lies so thinly Maxwell can see through it. “I don’t even really remember much after dinner—”

“A good blackout will do that to you”

“I just really needed to speak to you.”

“Why ?,”

“I put together where we met,” he said. “And I think maybe this is all a sign. Like maybe this is all destiny.”

 “Excuse me ?,” Maxwell says.

Haley places the  orange hospital ID wristband Maxwell kept in his quarters on the desk. It was inscribed with an angel and Maxwell had worn it everyday for the 9 months he was in the hospital.

 “I went out with my grandmother to evangelize every weekend. But I only went to  City of Hope once. What are the chances I’d be there when you were there ?”

“Likely. I was there for a while”

“ I never follow Harlow when he goes out,” he continues. “ Never. But I did it once and I end up in the exact same place as you again. What are the chances ?”

“Do you know what a coincidence is ?”

“I think it’s more than that, sir. I think it’s a sign were supposed to meet an--”

“What ?,” Maxwell balks. “You think God wanted us to fuck ?”

“No--”

“What then ?”

“I just think that you are supposed to help me.”

“Help you ? I can barely help myself,” Maxwell  laughs.

“I kind of… need a lawyer,” Haley says. “ Before I came here I had some legal troubles.”

Maxwell pauses.

 “Your record is spotless before you came here.,” Maxwell says. ““What kind of legal trouble ?”

“Um…the lethal kind,” Haley says quietly, crossing his arms.

“Someone you know was killed?”

“Yes.No,” he says. “I…um, killed someone.”

“Oh.” Is all Maxwell manages. “Is that why you didn’t leave when I offered you an out…. Is that’s why you take everyone’s shit ?,”

“I want to confess…but I don’t want to go to prison forever.”

“This better not be some kind of stunt. Are you shitting me ?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, I’m not sure what I can do.” Maxwell says. “I’m not allowed to practice law, but I can look into the case. Who was the victim ?”

“My sister’s husband,” he says.  “Harlow and I--we murdered him.”

----

Isla Haley had sat in the midafternoon sun all day, warming her usually pale skin to a burning bronze. It was ungodly hot outsidebut watching the funds in her bank account go higher than they had ever been in her entire life made it all worth it. She exhaled and stretched out on the near empty blanket.

Isla had spent days at Gram’s house excavating her brothers’ room. She’d originally planned to just sell Harlow’s bed and dresser  for beer money and a final fuck you, but after looking around she’d  found more of Harlow’s things to sell then she knew what to do with. So she’d rented a small space at the local flea market and set a blanket down.

Her older brother had been an almost manic kleptomaniac  and she knew most of the items were stolen, but had resigned herself to play dumb. It’s not like she could return them all now.

Besides it was a public service; she was practically giving stuff away to people who wouldn’t normally be able to afford it.

Isla imagines what she’s going to do with all the money. In reality she supposed she’d give most of the money to her brother’s ex, Roxi. To help support the nephew she’d still never met.

It had been her first good day in a while and the only thing that could possible sour her mood was walking through the tents and booths and making a beeline for Isla’s blanket.

“I’d like to speak to that delinquent brother of yours this instant,” Mrs. Deltorio demanded. “Take me to him.”

Isla rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I am not responsible for Harlow,” Isla said calmly. “Why don’t you ever bother my mother--”

Isla always suspected it was because the woman was terrified of both her mother and Gram, who could be unpredictable at best.

“Because I know she doesn’t know anything!,” Mrs. Deltorio shrieked. “You know what the problem is ?  No one ever taught Harlow to accept his punishment. He always gets away. Your brother is a menace to our entire community while my Felix did one thing wrong and he is locked away---”

Isla’s blood boiled. Why was she still cleaning up Harlow’s shit ?

“You should know that your son is no angel and hasn’t been for a long time. You  know how he treated Alex. Felix is just as deranged as Harlow and is exactly where he needs to be--”

“He only changed because of your brother--”

“You’re the one who let your kid hang out with him--”

“Tell me where Harlow is hiding!,” Mrs. Deltorio demanded. “I know he always comes slithering back to his grandmother.”

“Leave me the hell alone,” Isla says and eyes all the potential customers she is losing. “Can’t you see I’m busy ?”

Mrs. Deltorio crosses her arms and her expression calms—the change unnerves Isla.

“Listen to me, Isla. You tell me where he is hiding or tell him to surrender or I’m going to call the police and tell them to search your house for a fugitive.” she says. “And if they happen to find your mother’s little stockpile then your grandmother will have another family member locked up---.”

“Harlow is dead!,” Isla finally screamed. “Okay ? Harlow did the world a fucking favor and killed himself.”

“Liar,” Mrs. Deltorio shot.

“Look around,” Isla said spreading her arms.

Mrs. Deltorio paused and took in the bed, the clothes and furniture still on Isla’s blanket.

“Oh, Isla.” Her voice suddenly soft. “I’m sorry, Felix said--”

“They probably didn’t want it to get out. He killed himself at the camp…although I suspect foul play. The coroner called me and everything. He’s really gone.”

A pang of guilt filled Mrs. Deltorio’s chest. And fear. Fear for her own son.

 “I’m sure you want to run home and tell the whole neighborhood,” Isla said throwing up her arms.

She knew she must be quite the spectacle. Losing her husband and now her brother.

“Isla,” Mrs. Deltorio reapated. “Is anything I can do ?,”

“Yes,” she says softly. “Please stay the hell away from me.”

 

__

-3-

 

Maxwell was exhausted.

Lights out should have been 20 minutes ago.

Maxwell stared out at the 24 clean shaven young men standing at attention, their backs ramrod straight and eyes looking just above his eyes. He stares down at the mess he had made of the privates’ barracks,; overturning every bed and emptying every duffel bag to the floor.

The results of which was a fairly large pile of Camp Harmony contraband; alcohol, drugs, condoms, needles and personal syndicates.

“Let me remind you of the rules one more time,” Maxwell tells them making his way up and down the barracks. “No drinking. No smoking. No fucking. No unsanctioned communicating. To add a finer point to that you all will be running 50 laps. No one sleeps until this entire place is spotless.”

“YES SIR,” came the sound of 24 men speaking in unison.

Maxwell turned to his right where St. John was dressed in sweats.

“St. John,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” St. John nodded and turned to the men before jogging out the door. “FALL IN!,”

The barracks were filled with the sound of boots hitting the concrete as they filed out of the barracks behind St. John and to the training field.

Maxwell turned to his left and looked down at Haley.

They were alone for the first time in 24 hours.

“Make a note that I want Audrey to drug test everyone starting next week…may as well give the addicts time to detox.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Maxwell  predicted none of the contraband the privates had tried to sneak in had been anything quality. But Maxwell wasn’t sure the next time he’d be able to get away from camp.

He picked up the aftershave bottle that someone had cleverly filled with whiskey, the small bottles of hotel vodka, the nonprescription Vicodin and the cigarettes and put them in his pocket. He sent a message to Corp. Strange and both Corp. Halloran to come by and destroy the rest.

Maxwell walked by the prisoner’s tent  to make sure the locks were secured and nodded to the two corporals standing watch. He then walked to the empty mess hall and opened the doors of the mess hall with a wave of his key.

“Take a seat,” Maxwell says to Haley, who had followed him.

Haley quickly sits at the first table he sees. Maxwell takes a plastic juice cup from the kitchen and fills it with ice before pouring the whiskey into it.

“Why are we in the mess hall, sir ?,” Haley asks, his voice echoing around the empty room.

“Because I needed a nightcap for this conversation,” Maxwell tells him. “I looked into the case you told me about yesterday. It says Daniel Starling  was shot--”

“He wasn’t shot,” Haley said. “I mean—he was. Harlow shot him, but he didn’t die…we dragged him to the train tracks--”

“So, I gathered,” Maxwell says recalling the gruesome coroner's report  he'd read. “Harlow gave a statement that your brother-in-law had been associating with gangs. Harlow claimed he went to go get Mr. Starling from the bar where he was out drinking with gang members when he witnessed them  shoot Mr. Starling. When Mr. Starling  stumbled onto the track Harlow called 911, but a train was already coming… How much of that is bullshit ?”

 

“We did go near a bar. Harlow said we were going to meet Daniel for dinner, but when he saw Daniel he just shot him. I didn’t even know he had a gun.  Harlow said Daniel wasn’t good for Isla and had to die. He said this had to be done and he asked me to trust him and I still did back then. When the gunshot didn't kill him we pulled him on to the tracks and Harlow waited until a train was coming and called 911. He told me to go so I wouldn’t have to give a statement."

"Did he ever tell you the real reason why he did it ?," Maxwell asked.

"No. I think he was upset Daniel was taking Isla away from us. I always liked him--we all did."

“Then why didn’t you ever tell anyone the truth ?,” Maxwell asks.

“Isla was so heartbroken and I didn’t want to make it worse.  Harlow said it was for her own good and it would break her if she knew what we did. ” he said. “But now Harlow is dead and I just want to do the right thing. I don’t want to run anymore.”

 

“You are so fucking lucky I’ve been permanently disbarred,” Maxwell says lighting a cigarette. “I was a prosecutor. I bet I could have nailed you with the death penalty even though you didn’t technically  kill him.”

“…I helped killed.”

“Actually you didn’t,” Maxwell says. “The coroner’s report says he died before he was dismembered by the train. He probably bled out from the gun shot minutes before he was hit by the train.”

“So... he didn’t feel any pain ?”

“Not likely,”

“I want to tell the police Harlow’s statement is false and give the truth. To close the case,”

“It’s already been categorized as gang violence and closed,” Maxwell says exhaling a puff of smoke. “If I were your  lawyer I’d just tell you to shut the hell up about this.”

 

"I just want to tell the truth--"

“You can still be charged with obstruction of justice, action with intent to kill, accomplice to first degree murder, aiding and abiding a murderer and that’s just off the top of my head.  Any judge would throw the book at you since the actual murderer is dead.”

“How many years  is that ?,”

“Anywhere from 10-50 years,” Maxwell says.

“Okay….I could do 10 years,” he says quietly. “I could get time served and for being here and maybe even get out early, right ?”

“Not likely,” Maxwell says. “You’d have to leave here since Camp Harmony is only for nonviolent offenders. You’d go to a federal penitentiary and probably be the prettiest thing those men have seen in years. You’ll be forced to suck a lot of unwashed dicks and after  you’ve been beaten up too many times they’ll put you in solitary for the rest of your sentence. For your own safety.”

Haley had absently removed his hat and pushed his fingers into his hair grabbing the roots, pulling it down. His face turned red with frustration.

“I don’t know what do. I want to do what is right.” he says. “Do you think I’m going to hell, sir ?,”

 Maxwell inhales the smoke of his cigarette.

“I think we’re already in hell.”

“You don’t believe in hell do you, sir ?,”

“Have you ever heard the phrase there are no atheists in the foxhole ?,”

“You were in a foxhole, sir ?” 

“No. Not literally.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“This may surprise you, but I don’t personally believe your entire life should be about the worst thing you ever did. I think the same goes for your eternity.”

“I feel guilty, I want to confess,” Haley says. “But  I’m terrified of being locked up for 50 years.”

Maxwell tips more of the whiskey into his glass and sips it. Ignoring the faint taste of aftershave still in the bottle.

"Do you know why I don’t carry a gun ?,=”

“No, sir.”

“I was banned. I freaked out in the field. In the middle of a shootout I accidentally shot and killed my own damn  pilot. I was never charged. They told the man’s family it was enemy fire. I feel terrible about it.” Maxwell says. “The RLA banned me from using a firearm and put me here.  I fucked up badly and instead of giving me a proper punishment they just made sure I never do what I did again. I got away with something but instead of dwelling on that fact I  try to do  better and  excel where I am."

“May I be frank, sir ?”

“Tread lightly.”

“How can you excel at your job if you keep…breaking the rules ?,”

Maxwell smiles into his glass of whiskey.

“My job is to make the inmates life hell, manage the corporals, train the privates, protect you and Audrina  and keep this camp running.  Sobriety  isn’t required  to do any of  those things. “

Haley didn’t think that was true, but he doesn’t say it.

“Don’t confess,” Maxwell tells him. “Harlow is dead. He killed Daniel. The truthwon’t bring anyone justice. That is my advice to you. This is me protecting you. You’ve been through a lot of shit and you’re still a good kid. Don’t throw your life away. I can only hope now that Harlow is out of your life things will get better."

“Yes, sir,” Haley say gathering the loose strands into a ponytail.

“You can always do a deathbed confessional. Lawyers love those,” Maxwell says with a slight tinge of sarcasm.

“I’ll think about it, sir.”

“You’re dismissed,” Maxwell says and swirls the remaining whiskey in the glass. “I’m going to stay here and finish this,”

“Good night, sir.”

Haley stands and heads for the door, but  before he takes a single step he turns back towards Maxwell and  takes the cup of whiskey away from him and puts it on another table.

“What the fuc--”

The curse on Maxwell’s lips is cut off by Haley’s mouth on his. Maxwell parts his lips on instinct and Haley’s teeth come down lightly on the skin. It sends a sharp pleasure down Maxwell’s spine and he forces his tongue into Haley’s mouth.

 It takes all of Maxwell's strength to pull himself away from the kiss.

“Are you taking your daddy issues out on me ?,” Maxwell asks.

“No I--”

“I get it,” Maxwell growls. “ I tell you I think you’re a good boy and it turns you on ?”

“No!,” Haley says louder than he expects and covers his mouth. “No, sir. I…You…helped me. You’re keeping my secret…I was trying to do what you wanted. I'm sorry.”

Maxwell shakes his head amused. He wasn't a lawyer. Haley wasn't his client.

“You’re very right,” Maxwell says pulling him closer and kissing him again. “I am keeping your secret. I mean I could be court martialed for touching you, but you’d really be fucked if I told your secret.”

All the power Maxwell though he’d lost from Haley's blackout came back to him. He had a full proof way to keep Haley from ever betraying him.

Maybe God did want them to be together.

He grabbed Haley’s waist and pulled him into the chair on until he was balancing on his knees straddled Maxwell’s thigh.  

“You know our arrangement still stands. You help me. I help you. You keep your mouth shut.”

“I figured, sir.”

“I’d like to change the terms,” Maxwell whispered.

“Okay,” Haley said quietly.

 “Do I turn you on ?,” Maxwell asks. 

Haley’s hands trace Maxwell’s face, concentrating on the long eyelashes framing his dark and usually deadly eyes.

“I think…you’re handsome,” Haley says. “And, um...you scare me.”

“What do you know about being dominated ? ” Maxwell asks.

“Are you going to hurt me ?,"

“I'm not all that concerned about your pain," Maxwell smiles.

------

A/N

So, you guys I somehow fell down a rabbit hole of weird sexual fetishes a while ago and some of that is going to be brought up next Maxwell/Haley chapter.  Maxwell is into something that is very taboo (but not like super kinky) that I think is really interesting.

CPShawna: Wait, why are you teasing something happening in this serial ?

 SHV: I'm creating suspense ! Now, go and delete my search history.

CPShawna: Right...delete it...right.

Muse: Um, isn't Juliana's Dad in UL named Daniel too ?

SHV: Yes, but I'd forgotten and already used that name in chapter 2 of Compulsion and didn't want to change it. I think this is the only name I re-use.

Muse: What about in UL3--

SHV: It's spelled differently!