Against the Ropes (27 page)

Pain and pleasure flow over my body. My sex quivers. My knees shake. Need coils in my belly so tight I can barely think, much less respond.

SMACK. “Answer me.”

Part of me wants to tell him to go to hell. Another part wants to turn around and make him give me what I want. But the part of me consumed by lust answers, “Yes.”

“Last one,” he rasps. The air whistles and the final smack sends a firestorm racing beneath my skin. I scream out my frustration, my need, and my pain. Max releases me and flips me over. He lifts me and seats my burning bottom on the cool, metal hood.

“You did so well, baby.” He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and I jerk away. I don’t want tenderness. I want release and I want to leave. In that order.

Max shoves his clothing down to his knees. His erection springs free, hot, heavy, and pulsing with need. He rips open a condom packet with his teeth and sheaths himself.

“Open for me.” He spreads my thighs with his firm fingers and grips my hips. “Look at me, Makayla. I want to watch you come.”

My eyes widen at the fierce possessiveness of his gaze.

“Mine,” he rumbles. “Say it.”

Dazed with need, I whimper, “Yours.”

He eases inside me and flicks his thumb over my throbbing bundle of nerves. One slick flick. One long, hard, delicious thrust. I am filled and stretched. I am possessed.

“You feel so good,” he groans as he pounds into me. “So slick and tight.”

Already on the brink, it takes no more than that to set me off. I throw back my head and let loose a guttural scream as my orgasm rips through me, sending white hot bolts of lightning through my veins. My sex clenches and pulses. Max angles in deep and drives into me with quick, hard thrusts. Seconds later, he tenses and shouts his release. The throb and pulse of his climax send me into a new wave of rapture, and I bite down on his shoulder to stifle my moan.

So hard. So fast. So unlike anything we’ve done before. So disconcerting. I have to force myself not to pull away.

We hold each other while the fire dies down. A chill creeps through me, winding its way through my body to my heart until I can no longer bear to be touched. I ease Max away and dress without saying a word.

While he hunts around for his shirt, I wander through the cars until I find an Aston Martin identical to the one I just drove. I slide down until I am sitting on the floor beside the vehicle, my cheek pressed against the cool, metal door, my hands around my knees.

Stones crunch over cement, and Max bends down in front of me. “Makayla? Baby?” The pain and hesitation in his voice tear at my heart, but still I hold up my hand, palm forward to keep him away.

Max sits on the floor across from me, his back against a red Ferrari. I tighten my lips and study his face. His distress is etched into the lines around his eyes, concern in his wrinkled brow. He scrapes his hand through his hair. “Let me hold you.”

I shake my head and close my eyes again. I breathe in the scent of rubber and paint, new leather, and old memories.

“Baby—” His voice cracks and his pain spills between us. My heart aches in response. I am hurting him with my silence. Hurting is not what I do. He told me he trusted me to tell him if there was something he needed to know. There is something he needs to know, and he needs to know it now.

“I used to have nightmares about what happened the night my dad died.” I keep my eyes closed and my cheek pressed against the Aston Martin. If not for the rasp of Max’s breathing, I could be alone.

“I was six years old. My dad was an abusive alcoholic. He shouted and swore, and hit my mom when he was really drunk. One day he came home from the bar worse than usual. When we saw he had a baseball bat, Mom told us to run. Susie and I hid in the upstairs closet.”

Max sucks in a breath but doesn’t interrupt.

“We heard shouting and screaming and then a thud,” I continue. “When we crept to the kitchen, Mom was lying on the floor, bleeding from her head. She was moaning, so I knew she was alive, but I didn’t know how to help her. That’s the first time I knew what I wanted to do with my life.”

“Go on, baby.”

“I tried to wake her up, and he came in and saw us. Susie ran away, but I couldn’t leave my mom. He said I could trust him and we would run away together. He said he would never hurt me.” I draw in a ragged breath and squeeze my legs tight. “I said no and held up my hands to ward him away. He was so angry. He lifted me by my wrists and pulled me into the air. I kicked out and hit him, and he dropped me. He was really angry then. He picked me up around the waist and threw me into the wall.”

Max makes a choking sound. Stones crunch and suddenly his arms are around me and my cheek is against his chest. I shudder into his warmth.

“Keep going,” he whispers. “I’m here for you.”

I swallow hard and dig my fingers into his arm. “I lay on the floor and watched him hunt for the bat. I thought we were all going to die. I closed my eyes, and I don’t know what happened next. I guess I gave up. Next thing I remember is Susie slapping my cheek. My father was lying on the floor, out cold but still breathing. We got Mom up and we all ran away with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Despite everything, it was exciting to run away in the dark, knowing we would never be afraid again.” My body tightens. “That’s how I know I’m not a fighter. They needed me and I gave up. It has always stayed with me.”

Max’s fists clench and unclench against my back. His voice lowers and thickens. “How did he die?”

“We found out later he got in the car—presumably to chase after us—but he was so drunk he hit a post. He died instantly.”

“What about Susie? Couldn’t she tell you what happened?”

I shake my head. “She never talked about it. I don’t think she remembers. She left home as soon as she could.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice wavers. “No wonder you have issues with violence and being restrained. I would never have asked you to work at the club. I would never have—” He chokes on his words. “Christ.”

I close my eyes and breathe in his warm, sexy Max smell. “I like being with you, Max. You make me feel alive. I like the things we do together. I won’t lie and say they don’t scare me. They do. But I trust you, and that trust turns the fear into something thrilling. The flashbacks only come when I’ve lost control—like when you tie me up.”

Do I tell him my real fears? That he needs a level of control I can’t give, or that he will turn his violence on me? Was today a game or a warning?

Max pulls me up and holds my face between his hands. “What we do together is totally different from what happened that night. You are in total control. One word and it stops. The only problem would be if you didn’t trust me enough to know I would stop when you said the word.”

“That’s what happened today,” I whisper. “You were angry at me. I couldn’t tell if we were playing or if it was real, and if it was real then I was afraid you had lost control and you wouldn’t stop. Like him. Violence and anger together scare me more than anything else.”

Max dips his head and presses his forehead to mine. “I told you before, I could never be angry with you, baby. You are who you are. I was angry at myself for not managing the situation better, but the minute we stepped through the door I put it aside. You were so wound up, I thought you could handle something more intense. I am a violent man, but I don’t want you ever to worry that I’ll be violent with you. I would rather cut off my hand than hurt you.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Okay.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I think I just need a bit of time.”

His brow creases with worry. “Are you…do you want to—”

I kiss him softly. “No, Max. I’m not running away this time.”

You didn’t trust me

We make it back to the club just before opening. I have just prepped the first aid room when my phone vibrates. I check the Caller ID. Max. He tried to be respectful of my need to be alone on our trip home, but now that we’re back, my brief respite appears to be over.

Where are u?

First aid room. U know this **raises eyebrows**

Just checking

Okay

Do you need anything?

No, thanks

Medical supplies?

No

Are you thirsty?

No

Hungry?

No

Cold?

No

Lonely?

No

I miss you

U just saw me ten minutes ago

Ten minutes is a long time

This is true

Do you need more time alone?

If I did, I wouldn’t be here

Good. I’m coming to see you

Bad Max. Injured fighters only

I am injured

U r not **folds arms**

I need minx medicine

Have to go. Amanda calling

***

Within ten seconds of speaking to Amanda on the phone, I deduce she is drunk. She only ever calls me Makayla when she is over her limit.

“What have you been up to this afternoon?” I ask after she mumbles something unintelligible into the phone. “It’s only seven o’clock on a Saturday night. You’re wasting your weekend.”

“We settled a big case and the clients took us out for a few drinks.”

“On a Saturday?”

“Time has no meaning in a law firm,” she admonishes me. “You know that.”

“Where are you now?”

She giggles. “In a cab on my way to the Geek Club. I need to speak to Jake. I want to know if we would have had a chance if I hadn’t called a break.”

Oh
God.
“You don’t want to do that, honey. He’s done with you. He’s moved on. You’re just going to embarrass yourself and get hurt in the process.”

“I need closure,” she snaps. “I need to understand what went wrong. How could he choose that skinny society bitch over me?”

“You hurt him.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she says quietly.

I fiddle with my first aid kit, repacking things that don’t need packing. “Couldn’t you go another night? Maybe when you haven’t been drinking all afternoon? Max and I could come with you.”

“I’m going now. I need to get it over with.”

I ball my skirt in my fist. “You can’t go there alone. It’s dangerous. What if Jake isn’t there?”

She groans into the phone. “Seriously? You worry too much. I’ll go in, see if he’s there. If he is, I’ll talk to him and leave. I’m not sticking around for the fights. And it’s not like I’m going alone to Ghost Town. It’s an upscale residential neighborhood. What could possibly happen?”

“Something bad enough to cause Max to make me promise never to go there again.”

Amanda snorts a laugh. “If Max had his way, he would probably wrap you in cotton and lock you up so nothing could ever happen to you. He takes overprotectiveness to the extreme.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Just sayin’.”

“If I wanted to do something dangerous, he wouldn’t stop me,” I lie. “We have an open relationship. We would discuss it and he would understand my point of view.”

“I thought I was the inebriated person in this conversation,” she laughs. Amanda knows me too well to be fooled. “Have a nice evening surrounded by hot, sweaty men.”

“Wait,” I bark into the phone. “I’ll come with you. Promise you won’t go in until I get there.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

“I’m not leaving my best friend to wander drunk into a dangerous fight club looking for an altercation with her ex.”

“You’re so sweet,” she sighs. “I remember seeing a bus stop about half a block away. I’ll wait for you there. DO NOT tell Max where you are going. I don’t want him to tip off Jake.”

“But—”

“If you tell him, don’t bother coming. If I find out Jake skipped out because you couldn’t keep a secret, I’ll be so mad at you…”

My heart sinks. “Just promise you won’t go in without me.”

“Pinky promise.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

***

“Max?” I knock on the door to his office and peek inside. Max points to the phone in his hand and waves me in.

I take a seat on the big, comfy leather chair in front of his desk and wait for him to finish his call. His office reminds me of his suite upstairs—polished-wood floors, exposed-brick walls, modern fittings, and the big oak desk covered in D-rings. Only the paintings on the wall behind him don’t fit with the wood and stone decor. Both are framed tribal prints, one red and one green. They remind me of his tattoos.

“Minx. What’s up?” Max asks after he finishes his call.

I bite my lip and stare at the floor. The lie I had prepared sours on my tongue. I don’t want to lie to Max, but I can’t let Amanda go into the Geek Club alone. Maybe I can fudge it.

“What’s wrong?” Max voice drops, and I look up just as his brow furrows.

“Amanda needs me,” I say in a rush. “She’s about to do something crazy. I know this is unprofessional, and I would never normally ever ask—”

“Go, baby. I’ll find someone to cover for you.”

My tension lifts and I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Aren’t you going to ask where or why?”

Max grins. “I trust you. I can be reasonable, except when it comes to your safety.”

My lungs tighten. I could have dealt with angry, shouting Max, but his kind understanding is almost too much too bear. I am an awful, horrible person. I am betraying his trust. He deserves better than me.

I push myself up and ’round his desk. “Thank you.” I press a kiss to his forehead, but before I can turn away, he sweeps me into his lap.

“That’s all I get?” he teases, and his dark eyes warm. “I suffer through an afternoon of silence and manage to restrain myself when my girl wants to disappear on a mysterious errand, and all I get is a kiss on the forehead?”

“Maybe you get a kiss on the cheek too.” I brush my lips over his cheek, scratchy with his five o’clock shadow and smelling deliciously of cologne.

Max frowns and twists his lips. “Hmmm.”

“Maybe you get a kiss here too.” I trace the outline of his lips with the tip of my tongue and nibble and suck his bottom lip. When he threads his fingers through my hair to pull me closer, I press my lips against his and dip my tongue into his warmth. Max moans into my mouth. A hot surge of need rushes through me.

My phone rings and I look over at my purse on the chair. What if Amanda decided not to wait?

“I’d better go.” I push myself away but Max holds me firm.

“I might need more convincing.” He kisses me so hard and deep, my toes curl.

My phone rings again, and I wiggle off his lap. “That’s probably Amanda.” I race over to the chair, grab my phone on the last ring, and accept the call. “Amanda. Don’t you dare go without me,” I bark into the receiver.

“Ms. Delaney. Name is Ty. I’m a collector at Collections R Us. I’ve taken over your file from Sergio. Says here you missed a payment on Monday. I’m after our money.”

My blood runs cold. “Where’s Sergio? Why are you calling me now?” I can’t disguise the horror in my voice.

“You know why I’m calling.” His voice is low, rough, and nothing short of menacing. “Sergio is away to deal with a family emergency. I’m handling his files for him, and I want the fucking money.”

“But…it’s Saturday night…you’re harassing me.”

Ty makes a tsk tsk sound. “I’ll fucking call you whenever I fucking want, you little deadbeat. Don’t think you’ll be putting me off the way you did to Serge. You had him twisted around your little finger but that crap doesn’t work with me. The money better be in our account first thing Monday morning or I’ll be taking a part of your paycheck for the rest of your fucking life and selling your parents’ house so fast they won’t know what hit them.”

My hands shake so hard I have to grip the chair. “You aren’t allowed to threaten me. I’ll report you.”

He snorts a laugh. “Christ. Like I haven’t heard that one before. How are you going to prove it? You got a record of this call? No fucking way. You got money to go to court? I don’t think so. I want my money, honey, or you and I will have a date at your workplace Monday morning, eight a.m.”

“Please,” I choke back a sob. “You’ll have your money. Just please leave my parents alone and don’t come to my work…”

Work. Oh. My. God. I’m in Max’s office.

I spin around. Max is standing behind me, only a few feet away. When I catch his gaze, his expression hardens into stone.

“Give me the phone.” His face and his voice command compliance, and right now, I’m not up for a fight.

“I have someone who wants to speak to you,” I say to Ty. I hand over the phone.

“Who is this?” Max thunders.

Ty talks for at least a minute. Max’s lips press into a thin line. His body stills. His face turns purple. Anger rolls off him in waves. His fury at my strip poker shenanigans was nothing compared to this. My thighs quiver and I curl up in the chair with my arms wrapped tight around my knees.

“Tell me how much? The full amount.” After thirty seconds, he barks, “You’ll have your money on Friday and you will NEVER contact her again. Give me the account details.” He stalks over to his desk and writes the numbers on a piece of paper, and then he ends the call.

I shake my head. “I can’t take your money, Max.”

“You will.”

“It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it.”

His jaw clenches. “You don’t deal with people like that. He’ll run you into the ground and your parents too.”

I nod and tears trickle down my cheeks. “That’s why I needed the second job.”

His face stills and my heart skips a beat.

“So take the money,” he shouts. “My company makes more than that in an afternoon.”

“I can’t. I don’t want you to ever think it was about the money.”

He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths. “I know that, baby. I never thought for one minute you were like the others.”

“I forbid you to make that payment, Max. If you do, I’ll never speak to you again. I’ll find a way out of it myself. I don’t want to be indebted to you. I don’t want to feel I owe you anything.” And I have to know I can walk away. If there was one thing I learned as a child, it was that.

“Aaaargh.” Max throws the phone against the wall. I jump at the sharp crack as it hits the exposed brick and slides to the floor with a soft thud. “Of all the stubborn, irrational…” He rounds on me, striding toward my chair in a blaze of fury. “Why didn’t you tell me? After what they did to my family, how could you not let me know they were after you?”

I exhale a long, slow breath. “It wasn’t him before. It was a guy named Sergio. He was different. More accommodating. We had a bit of give-and-take going. And with the second job I was pretty sure I could make the payments. There was no reason to involve you. And after you told me about your family, I didn’t want to put you through anything like that again.”

“Christ.” Max rakes his hand through his hair. “Do you even understand? He will stop at NOTHING to get his money. I went through this when I was fourteen. He will harass you and torment you. He will show up at your work, your home, even if you go for a walk in the park. He will make your life a living hell.”

“I’ll find a way. If it means I have to get another two jobs, then that’s what I’ll do. I owe the money. I intend to pay it back. If he had just let me make reasonable payments, it would have been fine. Plus I’ve filed all sorts of appeals and Amanda’s going to help me out. She’s just finished a big trial.”

“Take the money and pay me back.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. My mother never borrowed a cent off anyone. Even when things were at their worst, she always found a way to get by. I admired her for that. I would be happy to have half her character.”

Max slams his hand against the wall. “You didn’t trust me. Again. You didn’t think I could help you. No matter what I do, you won’t let me in.”

“That’s not true.”

He pulls open his door and looks back over his shoulder. “I am paying that debt, Makayla, whether you want it or not. I will not let you suffer the way my family suffered. I won’t have him chasing after you or threaten your life. I’ll save you even if it means losing you.”

The door swings closed. I am alone.

***

An hour later my cab pulls up at the bus stop outside the Geek Club. I have tested my phone and although it seems to have a few glitches, I have been able to text Amanda, check the weather, and find the nearest pizza joint.

I step out of the cab, and Amanda tosses the driver a roll of bills and then throws her arms around me. “I’m so sorry you had a fight with Max. I can’t believe you still came.”

My bottom lip quivers and I fight back the tears. I can cry later. Right now, Amanda needs me.

We walk up the sidewalk to the Geek Club. Light shines from the edges of the blacked-out windows, and loud punk music almost drowns out the sounds of the fight going on inside. The night is cool and still. Wind brushes through the treetops. The street is eerily deserted.

The side door is locked with no attendant in sight. Amanda suggests we walk around the garage and look for another entrance. We slip through a side gate and follow the wall around to the backyard. I am about to turn the corner when Amanda grips my shoulder and pulls me back behind a bush. The hushed murmur of voices carries toward us, and I peek through the leaves to see what’s going on.

Three men, all wearing jeans and dark T-shirts, are huddled in the corner. One man opens a shopping bag and pulls out four brick-size packages containing what looks like white powder.

Oh. My. God. I gasp in a breath and stagger backward, pulling Amanda with me. “Drug deal,” I whisper. “We have to get out of here.” We turn to run, only to find the gate blocked by a bald giant in a leather jacket.

I grab Amanda’s hand and we run back into the garden. I glance over my shoulder. The bruiser has been joined by the three drug dealers, and they are gaining on us. I wheeze in breath after breath and stumble over a toy truck and onto my knees. Amanda hauls me up and we keep running. The fence in front of us is about eight feet high and scalable if we find a foothold.