Poking my head out the window, I call after her, “Would you mind telling Maddi that I’m here to pick her up? I’d rather not go inside; your house makes me itch.”
Wendy doesn’t answer. I wait for a few moments, idly contemplating whether I’ll need to head inside to fetch Maddi myself, but Wendy comes through for me. I really shouldn’t have doubted her. Women like Wendy are nothing if not doormats. Easy to direct and eager to please.
Maddi emerges from the side of the house, the gate slamming shut behind her. She tosses her bag over her shoulder, the agitated angle of her head alerting me to her dark mood. I push my door open and rush around to the side of my truck to open her door for her. She barely acknowledges me as she settles herself into her seat with an audible huff.
“Hey,” I ask gently. “What’s wrong?”
“Just get me out of here,” Maddi demands. She reaches out and snags the door handle from me. I let it go, squaring my shoulders when the door closes with a resounding bang. Hugging herself, she glares defiantly out the windscreen and summarily dismisses me.
Flickers of irritation spark within me. I try my hardest to get Maddi to look at me again, but she stubbornly stares straight ahead. She gives me nothing. A quick glance at the gate she came through gives me a little more information to go on. The sounds of arguing coming from the backyard are a clear indication that her father and brothers are involved in her poor attitude.
Settling myself back into the driver’s seat, I pause for a moment to give her time to explain herself to me. She doesn’t. So without another a glance in Maddi’s direction, I clip my seat belt and turn on the engine. We’re heading down the dirt track that leads back to the main road before I give her another skerrick of attention.
My silent condemnation is my weapon. It’s my way of showing her how disappointed I am in her behaviour. When she doesn’t immediately apologise for her rudeness, the irritation that plagues me grows into something reckless. I press my foot down harder on the accelerator, increasing our speed to a dangerous level. I want a reaction. I want her on her knees begging me to stop being angry at her. I want her to acknowledge that I am exempt from her petty emotional displays.
A quick look sideways tells me that it’s working. Maddi is fidgeting in her seat, plucking at the strap on her bag and pretending that she’s not taking surreptitious glances at me whenever she thinks I’m not looking.
“Brendan?” Maddi attempts to gain my attention.
I ignore her. It’s not her place to take control of the situation.
“You need to slow down,” she barks at me.
With a glare, I stare at Maddi until she drops my gaze and slumps back in her seat.
Good. She’s slowly learning.
“Please slow down.”
Shaking my head, I let my accelerator foot answer her plea. My truck is souped up and has plenty more left in the tank. If she keeps ordering me around, I’ll keep driving faster.
If Maddi stays silent, I’ll reduce my speed when I feel she’s sufficiently repentant.
We reach the bitumen of the main road. The fearful gasp she makes infuriates me, so I don’t take my foot off the accelerator like I had planned. Instead I push it down further and increase our speed again. The wheels squeal and the back end of the truck tries to step out on me. I wrench the steering wheel, muscling the vehicle into submission, and head for town.
The remainder of the trip is made in silence. The longer it lasts, the more I begin to doubt myself. Chills of disdain are beginning to emanate from Maddi’s side of the car. We’ve been getting along so well until last weekend at the bonfire that I’d forgotten how much she challenges me when I try to implement my usual highhanded tactics.
“Maddi?” I venture in a tight voice.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Maddi snorts, then folds her arms across her chest and looks out the window.
Lifting my foot from the accelerator pedal, I slow down until I’m doing the posted speed limit. The waves of aggravation coming from Maddi reduce slightly, and I feel a little spike of relief. Not a lot. But enough to temper my need to do something stupid.
“Why were you so angry at me?” I ask.
Her eyelashes flutter and I know she’s just rolled her eyes at me.
Pulling my truck off to the side of the road, I push the gear lever into neutral and unclip my seatbelt.
“I’m serious. Why were you pissed at me?” I ask again once I’m facing her.
She twists in her seat and glares at me. “I wasn’t angry at you. I was angry at my dad.”
“Okay…” Trailing off, I arch an eyebrow and wait for Maddi to elaborate.
It takes longer than expected for her response to come, during which my own temper tries to catch fire again. I swallow the urge, determined to avoid repeating my earlier mistake. As much as I want to exert my will on the situation, common sense screams that it would be fatal to my plans for tonight.
“You’re really weird,” Maddi states. I flinch. Her assessment is cold—and accurate. Feigning normalcy has never been something I’m good at. “If I’m having a meltdown and I ask you to get me out there, that means I’m trusting you to remove me from a situation I don’t want to be in. It doesn’t mean that I’m cross at you or that you need to act exactly like the assholes I’m trying to escape as some form of retaliation for your hurt feelings.”
Wow.
Her straightforward explanation hits me in the gut. My number one objective was to remain separate in Maddi’s mind from her father and brothers. Tonight, I joined their ranks, and I did it in such a way that I don’t have the first clue how to undo my actions.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I get it,” Maddi replies. “You’re not used to having someone stand up to you. Well, I’m not used to being treated like a second-class citizen.”
“Shit,” the uncustomary curse word leaves me lips unheeded. “I’m an ass, aren’t I?”
“Yeah,” Maddi agrees without hesitation. “You can be.”
“I really am sorry,” I say with as much earnestness as I can coat my words.
“Apology accepted.”
The smile that Maddi levels in my direction is kind and filled with sympathy. It freezes my blood in my veins. I can deal with her anger. I can deal with her disappointment. I cannot deal with her pity.
“How about we both pretend like we didn’t start this evening acting like fools?” she suggests.
My mind is reeling. This isn’t playing out in any of the ways I imagined.
That smile haunts me. It strips away my belief in my superiority and flushes my need to punish her down the toilet. Madelaine O’Brien is exquisite. The perfect foil to the manic control that tries to take over my mind every day.
She is no longer a pawn in this game.
She isn’t even a player.
She is the prize.
A non-negotiable, indispensable, requirement in my life.
I don’t want to live without her.
This discovery scares the living shit out of me.
To need someone.
To rely on someone.
To tie my future to someone.
It’s not something I would have ever chosen for myself.
Unfortunately, it appears that I don’t have a choice in the matter.
I’m hers.
She is mine.
Until the last breath leaves our bodies.
“Brendan,” Maddi says my name at the same time that she lays her hands on each side of my face. “Are you all right?”
Placing my hands over hers, I link our fingers before I tug her over to me. Understanding that she hasn’t had the same epiphany as me, I try to show her how I feel without coming on too strong. Maddi slides on the seat as I pull, until she is stopped by the handbrake. I wrap my arms around her. There is earnest intent in my next movements and I make them without thinking them through, without evaluating how they will play out, without worrying what my father w
ould think if he witnessed what I’m doing.
I go with my intuition, not my brain.
“You are an angel.” I whisper this against Maddi’s mouth. “A heaven-sent creature gifted to me by the Gods.”
She stiffens, instantly. I refuse to let her ruin this moment, so I hug her harder and concentrate on kissing her reservations away. It takes a couple seconds for Maddi to yield, but when she does it is perfection. I feel her acquiescence in every atom of my body. When she kisses me back, it steals my breath, and sends the dark thoughts that plagued me earlier up in smoke.
Poof. Like a rain cloud caught in a thunder storm, they dissipate, and I’m free of the angst.
I deepen the kiss, testing Maddi’s limits, smashing her boundaries, and relishing ever tentative touch she rewards me with. Last weekend, when she left the bonfire, I thought all was lost, but she’d proved me wrong. When I’d pulled over less than ten minutes ago, I thought I’d be fighting to keep her with me, but she’d settled my fears again.
Right now, in this moment, I feel true contentment for the first time.
Maddi is as perfect for me as I am for her. She understands me.
We balance each other. Two matching puzzle pieces. The yin to the other’s yang. Counterweights to the same scale.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The annoying sound erupts from my phone. It startles us both, and we pull apart. Maddi is breathless, as am I. She touches her lips, then attempts to straighten her hair. I barely recall winding my fingers through her long tresses, however the damage I’ve wrought tells a different story. She looks thoroughly kissed—and I vow to myself to keep her in that state as often as I can.
Swiping my phone from the dash, I check my messages.
HUGO: Where are you? The reservation was for 7pm, correct?
The clock in the dash tells me that it’s now quarter past seven. Apparently, we’ve been parked up for longer than I thought.
I toss my phone back into place, then regard Maddi with a grin. She’s given up trying to fix her hair. It’s now down, falling around her shoulders and almost reaching the seat she sits on. I’ve never seen her with her hair undone. Her usual style is a simple knot on her head, projecting an innocent image that I adore.
Seeing her like this adds another element to her allure. It creates a reaction in my pants that makes them tighten, widening my grin and increasing my determination to have her properly as soon as I can.
Tonight if possible.
“You’re stunning,” I say. Flipping a lock of her hair, I push it behind her ear and relish the silky feeling between my fingers. “I don’t think you realise how beautiful you are?”
Maddi blushes, ducking her head so she’s no longer meeting my eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
Restarting the engine, I pull back onto the road and head for the restaurant where we were supposed to meet Hugo and his date almost twenty minutes ago.
“So, we’re still going to dinner?”
“Yeah, Hugo’s already there,” I reply.
When she doesn’t answer me, I glance toward her. “I get the impression that you’re not a fan of his?”
“He’s a bit rude,” Maddi answers. Looking at her once more, I attempt to read her expression before averting my gaze back to the road. She appears indignant, wide eyed and ready to defend her position.
“He can be.”
“If you are aware of it.” Maddi sits up straighter in her seat, then turns to look at me. “Why do you let him treat you like that?”
I’m rendered speechless at her question. Stunned. Hugo can be rather sarcastic, and he enjoys nothing more than delivering barbed comments that can be taken two ways, yet I’ve never taken the time to really examine how he speaks to me. I’m normally knee deep in some form of wager with him and too focused on winning to pay attention to much else.
Maddi is right. Hugo does spend a lot of our time together insulting me.
Which is strange, considering I count on him to have my back any time I need it.
“It’s never occurred to me to mind what he says,” I reply with honesty.
She reaches across and takes my free hand in hers. “Well, I hope you’ll decide that you deserve more from someone who calls himself your friend.”
A feeling that resembles guilt niggles at the edge of my mind. Her sense of loyalty is strong. How would she feel if she learned how Nita sold her out with barely a qualm?
Upset? Angry? Vengeful?
“How’s this?” I ask. An idea has just hit me, and I want to see if I have enough influence on Maddi to make this play out. “I’ll stand up to Hugo and his snarky comments if you do the same with Benji. The way he treats you isn’t right, Maddi. You must see that?”
I expect protests and anger. Instead, Maddi squeezes my hand and leans against me. I take a moment to breathe in her scent and brace for her upcoming denial.
It doesn’t come.
Maddi scoots closer to me, then kisses my cheek and says, “Deal.”
Her response rips the wind from my sails and sends me spiralling into freefall.
Tonight is going in the books as one of the best in my life.
Benjamin O’Brien’s defeat is evitable.
To the victor goes the spoils.
Benji’s pride cannot possibly withstand the battering I’m about to deliver, when first, I take first Madelaine O’Brien’s virtue, followed quickly, by her heart.
TWELVE
“How’s school?” Hugo asks Maddi.
I pry my attention away from Nita, who’s sitting across the table, and try to work out if he’s being serious or not. He’s acting strangely tonight—even by his standards—and I’m curious to learn why.
“Fine, thank you,” my date responds.
Maddi’s answer is clipped. It’s also kind of inaccurate, considering it’s the summer break and will be for another week. Searching her face, I spy a look pass between Nita and Maddi, then Nita kicks Hugo under the table.
Something is definitely going on.
“You must be excited to have the end in sight?”
“I am,” Maddi replies.
Hugo smiles. It’s not a pleasant smile—more like the expression you’d expect to find on a crocodile just before it snatches its prey.
“Have you applied to any universities yet?”
“Yes, a few.”
I don’t know where he’s going with this line of questioning, but his demeanour has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. Nita’s Cheshire Cat grin doesn’t help, either. I didn’t even know they were seeing each other, let alone that she’d be his date to dinner tonight. Maddi’s reaction when we’d arrived had shown that she was surprised as well to see her friend.
This smells like an ambush.
“Is that what you’re heading to Brisbane for his weekend?” Hugo presses the point. “To tour some campuses?”
Maddi coughs. Reaching for her glass of water, she takes a sip, then pushes back her chair and glares at Nita. “I’m going to the ladies, why don’t you join me?”
Hugo sits back in his seat, satisfaction flowing from him while we watch the girls make their way to the restrooms. Once they’re out of sight, I lean forward with mu elbows on the table and snarl at him, “What the fuck are you playing at? Why’s Nita here?”
My supposed best friend shrugs. He picks up his cutlery and begins eating what’s left of his steak.
“Spill,” I demand. “You’re up to something.”
Placing his cutlery gently on the edges of his plate, Hugo steeples his hands under his chin and peers at me. With a measured gaze he examines my face. I feel my skin grow hot as my temper begins to emerge for the second time tonight.
“How serious are you about Maddi?”
“Very,” I snap. “She’s the one.”
His eyes widen at my answer. “I take it that this is no longer a game for you?”
I lean as far forward as I can, look him dead in the eye, and lay all
my cards out on the table.
“Madelaine O’Brien is mine,” I state with cold warning in my voice. “Whatever you might think is going on, I assure you that you’re wrong. I still want my revenge over Benji, but I will not let Maddi go once I’ve achieved my goals. If you have a problem with that, I’d advise you speak your piece now because I’m finding that my patience for your childish games is rapidly running out.”
Hugo holds his hands up in surrender. He drops my gaze and sits back in his seat.
Well, look at me—keeping up my end of the bargain I made with Maddi.
“Maddi’s going to Brisbane for a birthday party this weekend,” Hugo informs me quietly.
“And?” I arch an eyebrow, questioningly. “That’s a big deal because?”
“It’s for Mikhail Kennedy’s birthday party. Nita told me that she’s staying at his house since she’s been helping with the planning and is basically playing hostess for the night. Apparently, Maddi is close enough with this bloke that Nita believes she might have been with him previously—if not currently.”
My head spins. My ears pound. My heart races. The room around me falls silent and all I can hear is Hugo’s words over and over again telling me that Maddi has been with someone else.
It shouldn’t surprise me. She’s from a rather low-class, morally corrupt family. It just that I’ve been discovering what I thought were signs that she was pure, and I’d deluded myself into believing that she was untouched, despite my initial thoughts.
I’d also conned myself into believing that I was the only man in her life.
Apparently, not.
“How solid is this information?” I ask after half a minute of freaking out.
Maybe Nita has her wires crossed?
“One-hundred percent corroborated,” Hugo answers immediately. “Nita was shopping with her this afternoon for a gift and something to wear.”
Swallowing the lump that’s suddenly invading my throat, I let the air drain from my lungs. I drag in fresh oxygen and pray that it will oxygenate my brain enough to think of a plan before the girls return.
“Why is Nita telling you this and not me?”
“She’s annoyed at Benji for ignoring her, and since you’re currently occupied, she’s using me to regain his attention.”
Craving Control (Black Shamrocks MC Book 6) Page 11