Chapter 19: Revelation and Rage

Max's vision was blurred with tears as he dragged himself towards his house, each movement sending waves of agony through his shattered right leg. Every step was a battle, but he was determined to reach home and finally tell his mom everything. The looming dread of facing Brandon and his gang had become secondary to the pain and fear he now felt.

As he stumbled up the porch steps, he clung to the railing for support, breathing heavily. His hand reached for the doorbell, but before he could press it, the door swung open. Standing there was John, back earlier than expected. The surprise in John's eyes quickly turned to horror as he took in Max's battered appearance.

"Max!" John exclaimed, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and anger. He reached out to steady his son, his hands gentle but his eyes blazing with fury. "What happened to you?"

Max could only manage a pained whisper. "Dad… it hurts…"

John's face turned pale as he supported Max inside, calling out for Margaret. "Margaret! Come quickly!"

Margaret rushed into the hallway, her face contorting with worry as she saw Max's condition. "Oh my God, Max!" She knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she examined his bruises and the obvious break in his leg.

Max tried to hold back his pain, but a painful moan escaped his lips as Margaret's fingers brushed against the most tender spots. "I'm sorry, Mom… I should have told you sooner."

Tears welled up in Margaret's eyes as she looked at her son. "Shh, it's okay, Max. We'll take care of you." She turned to John, her voice urgent. "We need to get him to the hospital. Now."

Without wasting a moment, John carefully lifted Max, who winced with every movement and carried him to the car. Margaret opened the door and helped settle Max into the back seat, where he lay down, trying to find a position that eased the pain.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of red lights and sirens. Max drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain making it hard to stay awake. John drove with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, his jaw set in grim determination. Margaret held Max's hand, whispering soothing words even as her fear threatened to overwhelm her.

At the hospital, they were immediately rushed into the emergency room. Nurses and doctors swarmed around Max, assessing his injuries. Margaret and John were pushed aside but kept close, their eyes never leaving their son. They watched helplessly as Max was examined, his leg carefully splinted to prevent further damage.

After what felt like hours, a doctor finally approached them. He was a tall man with kind eyes, but his expression was serious. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter, can we speak in private?"

They nodded, following the doctor into a small consultation room. The doctor closed the door behind them and took a deep breath. "Max's injuries are quite severe. He has multiple bruises and contusions, indicating he's been subjected to physical abuse over an extended period."

Margaret gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God…"

The doctor continued, "The most serious injury is to his right leg. The bone is broken, and the damage is significant. We've set it as best we can, but I'm afraid there may be long-term effects. There's a possibility that he might not fully recover, and there may be a permanent weakness or limp."

John's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white with restrained fury. "Who did this to him?" His voice was low and dangerous.

The doctor shook his head. "That's something you'll need to discuss with Max. For now, he's stable and resting. We'll monitor him closely."

John stormed out of the room, his anger palpable. Margaret quickly followed, catching up to him just outside Max's hospital room. "John, wait!"

He turned, his eyes blazing. "I'm going to find those bastards who did this to our son!"

Margaret grabbed his arm, her own eyes filled with a fierce intensity. "John, stop. We need to be here for Max right now. He needs us more than ever."

John opened his mouth to argue, but the sight of Margaret's determined expression stopped him. He saw the same fury in her eyes that he felt burning inside himself. Slowly, he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

"You're right," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "But they won't get away with this."

Margaret's grip on his arm tightened. "I know. But we need to do this the right way. For Max's sake."

Together, they walked back into the hospital room where Max lay sleeping, his face peaceful despite the bandages and bruises. They sat beside him, holding his hands and silently vowing to protect him from any further harm. The fight was far from over, but they would face it together, as a family.