With trembling fingers, I keep digging, but I don’t find anything else but a couple of numbers and addresses. I stand and take my phone, dialing the club. “Hello?” a woman answers.
“Yes, hi, it’s Anabelle. I was wondering if Max is there.”
“Ah, no, sorry we don’t see much of him these days. He said you were unwell.”
My blood runs cold. “He doesn’t come in to work?”
“No. He’s given us all extra shifts. Last time I saw him was three nights ago.”
Oh my God.
“O-o-okay, thanks.”
I hang up and stare down at the numbers I found in his backpack. I dial the first one, which goes to a disconnected number. I dial the second and a husky-voiced woman answers the phone. “Hello?”
“Ah, hello,” I say, throat thick with tension. “Who have I called?”
“You’ve got the Southside Casino.”
Casino.
No.
Oh God, no.
“Oh, wrong number, thanks.”
I hang up and the tears come hard and fast. I cry until my body aches, and then I get angry. I get so damned angry I stand, storm down the stairs and go to my car. Fury is washing through me—raw, broken fury. How dare he? How dare he take everything we’ve saved and gamble it away? How dare he turn everything off as if it doesn’t matter? How dare he shut me out and lie to me?
He’s my husband, and tonight this ends.
I drive to the casino and find a park in the parking lot. I get out, hands trembling, and storm inside. There are pokie machines and tables scattered everywhere, with hundreds of people playing. Thick smoke fills the air and I can smell booze all around. Why the hell are so many people in here during the day? What is wrong with them?
I let my eyes scan the room and finally I see Max, sitting at a table, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, beer bottle in hand. I stop in my tracks and just stare at him. That man right there? I don’t know him. He looks drawn out and tired, but mostly he looks like a stranger. What the hell happened to him? What the hell changed in his life that made him like this?
What the hell did I miss?
Was it the accident he saw? He said it wasn’t bad; he assured me it wasn’t that.
So what the hell is it?
Anger bubbles up in my chest as I watch a woman lean over him, breasts near his face, giggling as she lines up some cards. No. No more. I storm over and the moment I reach him, I start screaming. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He jerks and spins around, staring at me in shock. Yeah, he just thought I’d sit at home, acting as though nothing was going wrong in our lives. He was wrong, so incredibly wrong.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Anabelle?”
His use of my full name is like a slap to the face. “What am I doing here?” I breathe. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious.”
“You have run all our money dry, and you’re doing drugs and . . .”
He launches up, curling his fingers around my upper arm and jerking me out of the casino at a rapid rate. He leads me down a few halls to a secluded room. He swings the door open and shoves me inside, slamming it behind him. “What the hell are you thinking? Screaming our shit out like that.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I yell. “You’re wasting our money, smoking drugs, drinking and pushing me away, and you’re seriously wondering why I’m here?”
“I’m havin’ a bit of fun!”
I shake my head, losing everything I’ve been holding together.
“Fun? Fun? Are you fucking serious?”
His eyes widen because I scream so loudly.
“What about us, Max?” I say and my voice breaks on his name. “What about this? I had to go to the doctor today, and I couldn’t even pay because I had no money left in the account!”
“Why did you need a doctor?” he asks, studying me.
“You’re seriously asking that? Don’t act as if you care. You haven’t noticed a damned thing in the last few weeks, so don’t pretend like it matters now. I obviously don’t matter.”
“I was going to get it back,” he says, his voice almost dead. That scares me.
“You took every cent,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling. “Jesus, Max, what the hell is going on?”
“Nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
I screech loudly and lift a lamp from a nearby table, hurling it across the room at him. I shock both himself and me, because I’ve never acted so violently before. My hands are shaking, my body is exploding with rage, and I can’t keep it in.
“If you want me gone, why the hell don’t you just say so? What did I ever do to you to deserve this kind of hell?”
“I never said I wanted you gone!” he roars.
I step forward and put my hands on his chest, trying to shove him. He curls his fingers around my wrists and jerks me, catching me off-guard. I stumble forward and my head bounces off his chest.
“You do,” I fight, squirming and tugging. “You’re just not fucking man enough to say it. Go on, Max, say it. Say you want me gone.”
“No,” he grunts.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I yell, trying to shove him again.
“Because maybe I’m not the sweet fucking man you think I am.”
“That’s not true, and you’re holding back. Just say it; say whatever it is you need.”
“No.”
“God dammit, Max! Let me go!”
“Fucking no!” he roars.
He pulls my body closer and his lips crash down on mine. Max hasn’t touched me in close to a month, so my body responds like a desperate child in need of a snuggle. I cling to him, kissing him so hard my lips burn beneath his. He spins us around and slams me against the wall, and a frenzy unlike any I’ve ever experienced with Max, comes rushing to the surface.
He wants to fuck me like a wild animal, and I want to let him.
So I do.
There is no foreplay, no sweet kisses and no gentle strokes. No, it’s all desperate animal-like craziness. He jerks my skirt up, I yank his jeans down and then my legs are around his waist and his cock is plunging into me. It’s rough and feral and so fucking hot. He slams me against the wall with each thrust. My nails slide down his arms, taking off skin as they go. He bites my neck, grunting against it, and fuck, it all feels so incredible.
“Max,” I scream out, bucking against him.
He catches hold of a nipple through my top and he pinches it, hard. I yelp and reach up, taking his hair in my hands and yanking it so hard he hisses. We’re in a frenzy, a dangerous, beautiful frenzy. Our hands are bringing pain to each other’s bodies, but at the same time, we’re bringing each other so much pleasure.
I can’t hold back my orgasm. It comes on like wildfire, tearing through my body and making me hiss out Max’s breath, because I can’t even muster up a scream. He grunts, thrusts, slaps and bites until he’s coming deep inside me, his big body jerking with each spurt of release. I come down from my high first, dropping my head into his shoulder and letting my legs down.
He slides out of me and then we step away from each other, looking at anything else. I don’t want to admit that what we just did felt so incredibly right, and yet so incredibly wrong, and I don’t think he wants to either. It didn’t solve any problems—hell, all it did was take away from the pain we’re living through for a few minutes.
But in the end, the problem still lies dormant, like a toxic explosion ready to erupt.
And erupt it will.
CHAPTER TWENTY
NOW – ANABELLE
“What the hell are you doing here with him?” Tina hisses into my ear as we stand in the kitchen, watching Max and Chase chatting.
“Everyone was out of town. I needed someone to look after Imogen.”
“Did you sleep with him?” she demands.
Her question throws me so much I don’t answer right away. “Oh my God,” she whispers. “You did.?
??
“It’s really none of your concern, Tina. My life is my business.”
“He ripped you to pieces, stomped on you and spat you back out again, and now you’re defending him.”
I spin on her. “Maybe you don’t know the full story, and maybe he wasn’t the only one in the wrong, did you ever think of that?”
Her eyes widen and she takes a step back.
“And not to mention, our mother just died. Is this really what matters right now?”
With that, I lift my purse and storm out of the kitchen. “Imogen, come on.”
“Where’re you goin’?” Max asks, narrowing his eyes with concern.
“Anywhere but here,” I snap.
Imogen runs out and I scoop her up, leaving the house before any of them can say any more.
I need time; I need to process. My mother just passed and my sister is more worried about why I’m with Max. I buckle Immy into the car and then I drive back to my apartment. I just need to be away from all of them. I need to grieve. I need to think about what happened with Max last night, and I need to spend time with my daughter.
When I arrive home, I see that Tyke’s bike is out front. In fact, there are quite a few bikes out front. Just magical. I sigh and get Immy out of the car. I’ll just say a quick hello and retreat to my room, they don’t usually bother me too much. I take Immy’s hand and lead her inside, and the moment I step in, I’m faced with a mass of sexiness.
Tyke’s brothers, or so he calls them, are as hot, if not hotter than he is. The only ones I know are Maddox, who is the club president and super smokin’ hot, Krypt, who is the vice president, and Mack, who is a club member like Tyke. They’re all good-looking men, gruff and dangerous, ranging from dark and deadly to Native American and mysterious.
“Belle!” Santana waves. “How are you?”
I force a smile, but it’s weak.
“Sorry to bother you guys. I’m . . . I’ll be in my room.”
“Is everything okay?” Pippa asks, standing from her position on Tyke’s lap and walking over.
“My mom passed away last night.”
Her eyes go wide, and then she wraps her arms around me. Before I know it, all the girls are huddling together, wrapping me in a giant hug. I can’t hold back the tears. I let them flow freely, still holding Imogen to my side, but letting them all hold me while I do. When they pull back, a few of them have their very own tears.
“Are you okay?” Jaylah, Mack’s Old Lady, asks.
“I’m doing as good as I can be, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry,” Santana says, clutching my hand.
“Me too.” Ash smiles sadly.
“Come on, let me take Immy for a few hours. You look exhausted,” Pippa offers.
“It’s okay, really.”
“It’s no problem. We’ll watch movies and make popcorn.”
“Can I please stay with Aunty Pippa?” Immy begs.
“Of course, baby,” I say, not even attempting the argument.
“If you need me to take her, anytime,” Pippa says, squeezing my shoulder, “you know I will. It’s going to be a hard few days. Let me take that pressure off. You’ll be happier knowing she’s away from it all.”
She’s right about that.
“Thank you, Pip.”
“Go and have a nice long bath, get some rest, and then we’ll help you with anything you need. I’m so sorry, Anabelle.”
I hug her again and give the guys a small wave. I get a range of nods back, but their eyes are sympathetic for me. I kneel down to Immy, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mommy,” she grins. “I’m going to watch movies!”
She loves movies, so this makes her more than happy.
“That’s super great. I’m sure Aunty Pippa makes the best popcorn, too. Mommy will be upstairs, okay?”
She hugs me and then runs off, waving to the bikers, not at all worried by their presence. They all love her, and immediately start a conversation with her. Smiling and shaking my head, I hug Pippa and thank her again before walking upstairs and stepping into my room. My chest is tight; it feels as if it’s going to explode, but I fight past it and force myself into the shower.
The warm water does nothing to ease the pain in my heart. I see my mom’s beautiful smile, and hear her laughter, and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. God dammit, I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Did she know I loved her? Did I tell her enough? I just want her back. I want five more minutes. I want to tell her I’m happy, that I’ll be okay.
I didn’t want her to die worrying.
And she did.
Tears explode from my eyes, and I’m so tired of them, but I can’t keep fighting the waterfall that needs to run free to ease the pain in my chest. So I cry. I cry until I’m gasping for air and my entire body is shaking. I cry so hard I don’t hear the door open, I don’t see the shower door move and I don’t notice anyone is there until the shower goes off and a set of hard arms curl around me.
I don’t stop crying. I don’t even fight.
A warm towel is pressed against my skin, and I bury my face into the cotton of the T-shirt that is covering a chest I love so much. There’s only one person brave enough to chase me when I storm out, and that’s the man I love so much. The only person who knows me better than anyone. The only person who understands me.
“Make it go away,” I sob violently. “Max, just make it go away.”
“Can’t do that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sitting down onto the bed.
I curl my fingers into his shirt and tug over and over, just wanting it all to go away. He lets me; he lets me cling to his shirt until my knuckles are white. My body trembles in his arms and everything inside me aches so hard that I just want to claw at my own skin to make it stop.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye, Max.”
“Sometimes that happens, but she was prepared for it, Belle, and so were you.”
“I didn’t tell her I loved her.”
“You think she didn’t know that?”
“But I didn’t get to say it one last time.”
He squeezes me tightly. “There’s never a last time. You can tell her as many times as you want, even now.”
“She was worried for me, worried I wouldn’t be happy. I wanted her to die in peace.”
“She did, Belle.”
“No, she didn’t. I was a mess, Max. Always a damned mess, over you, over the things that went wrong . . .”
“She knew you’d be happy,” he says, his voice thick. “Because I told her you would be.”
I go still in his arms. “What?”
“I went and seen her, the day before she died. I wanted to—ah, I don’t fucking know, clear the air I guess.”
“You went to see her?” I whisper.
“Yeah, and when I was there, she told me a lot of things, but she asked me . . . she asked me to take care of you.”
“And you told her you would just to make her happy?”
“No, baby,” he says, clutching me tighter. “I told her because I fucking meant it.”
I start crying again.
“She told me that I was the only thing you’d ever want or need, and all she wanted before she went was to know you’d have what you deserved.”
“She thinks I deserved you?” I sob.
“Yeah, and she was right.”
“I don’t deserve you, Max. I don’t deserve anyone.”
“That ain’t the truth, Blue Belle, and you know it.”
“I don’t,” I cry out, jerking his shirt. “I let you push me away, and I didn’t even know you were suffering.”
“No, you didn’t, but I didn’t make it easy. You can’t live holding onto the past. It’s a toxic place that’ll only bring you pain. We’re here now, aren’t we?”
“Being without you—God, Max, it was horrible.”
“Yeah,” he says. “It fucking was.”
/> “Y-y-you said that you . . . that we . . .”
“We gotta go slow, but I’m being a fucking fool if I say I’m not desperate to have you back in my life. Fuck, I love you, Blue Belle. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“You do?” I squeak.
“Abso-fucking-lutely, and nothing is going to stand in my way of fixing what I broke, but it’s going to take time, and I think we both need that time.”
“I think you’re right.”
“But hear me now, kid,” he says, leaning down and pressing his forehead to mine. “Nobody is going to take you from me. Nobody. Not even you.”
“I can live with that,” I croak.
He grins. “Fuckin’ glad, baby.”
I kiss his jaw.
Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is finally starting to shine through.
~*~*~*~
We buried Mom five days later with a simple but beautiful service. We laid her down next to Dad, the place she’d most want to be. Heaps of people came to pay their respects, and Tina was apologetic to me for her outburst in regards to Max. I was glad, because saying goodbye to Mom was hard, and I needed her there.
It’s been two weeks since that day, and things have been hard. Some days are easier than others, but mostly they’re getting better and not worse. Max has been taking Imogen on his days off, spending as much time with her as he can, and she’s thriving. She adores him, and he loves her with his whole soul.
I haven’t spent much time with him, though every time we’re alone, he takes me into his arms and kisses me long and hard. He’s been holding back, claiming we have to do this the right way, and that’s slow. We don’t want to lead Immy on and then crush her if things don’t work out, so we’ve been mostly hanging together as a family.
The more time I spend with him, the more desperate I’m getting for more of him.
Tonight I’m going to watch him fight with the girls from the club. They’re coming because Rainer is fighting Max tonight. It would seem that after Max fought with Rainer, he decided he wanted him to start fighting for him. Max obviously saw talent in the sexy bartender, and now Rainer spends his weekends in the House Of Obsidian, fighting for extra cash. He’s good too, from what I’ve heard.