“Do you know why?”
“I told you, I don’t!” Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, the woman pulled in a deep breath, then slowly let it out, her voice sounding painfully controlled as she said, “Whatever’s going on with you, Vivian, just…don’t. Don’t give in to it.”
Deciding that he’d stayed out of the conversation long enough, because that was some seriously shit advice, Max cleared his throat and spoke up. “Look, I get that you’re upset, Mrs. Jackson. But Vivian needs to know what she’s dealing with. She can’t just pretend like it isn’t happening. Telling her to do it that way is not only a bad idea, it’s a dangerous one.”
Marcia’s dark eyebrows nearly lifted to her hairline as she gazed back at him. “Good? Bad? Who gives a damn, when this nonsense could destroy her life?”
“Why don’t you just tell her what you know.”
Her chin jutted out at a belligerent angle. “But she—”
“Tell. Her,” he repeated, cutting her off.
“There’s not much to tell,” she said with a sniff, before looking at Vivian. “The only thing that your father loved more than his whiskey was his secrets.”
Softly, she said, “Come on, Mom. You must know something that can help me.”
Painful silence, and then the woman finally relented with a strained sigh. “Only that he would often go out of town for a few days or weeks at a time. Some months only once, others two or three times. And then sometimes he wouldn’t leave for months on end. But when he did… He was always a little less of the man I fell in love with when he came back to us. Until he finally just stayed gone.”
Beside him, Vivian shivered, and he found himself reaching over and taking her small hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze, the same way he had in the truck.
“Let it go,” her mother pleaded. “Please. Just put that necklace away and try to enjoy your life. Go have some fun. Don’t let all of this destroy you and pull you down.”
Vivian squeezed his hand back, then pulled out of his grasp as she took a few steps forward, her husky voice rough with emotion as she said, “Mama, I love you. I really do. But I can’t live like you have since he left. I won’t just stick my head in the sand and dream of better things. I need to know the truth. I need to face it head on.”
Marcia closed her eyes, her expression shutting down as she slowly opened them and said, “Then I can’t help you, Vivian. Just try not to drag your family down with you.”
Growling low in his throat, Max jerked forward just as Vivian flinched, looking like those hateful words had just slapped her across the face. “I’m not an asshole like dad,” she said, her calm tone completely at odds with the tightness of her jaw. “I’m not dragging anyone down. Especially not my family.”
“Don’t talk about him that way!” her mother snapped, an angry flush spreading over her gaunt cheeks.
A hollow laugh burst past Vivian’s lips. “Why? We both know it’s the truth.”
“He was a great man, Vivian. He just—”
“Don’t,” she cut in, holding up a hand. “Please, don’t. I won’t stand here and listen to you defend him.”
Turning toward the door, her mother muttered, “Then we have nothing more to talk about. I’ll come back and take care of the garden at the weekend.”
“Mom!” she cried, the way her voice cracked making Max’s chest feel like it was trapped in a vise. He couldn’t believe the woman was just going to walk out on her own flesh-and-blood, and anger had his voice coming out guttural and low.
“Before you leave, Mrs. Jackson, you need to know that there are some bad people looking for your daughter.”
Marcia’s brow furrowed with worry as she turned to face him. “What kind of bad people?”
“The kind who wouldn’t hesitate to use you or your sons to hurt her. So don’t let anyone you don’t know into your place, or give any personal information out over the phone. And if someone tries to contact you about Vivian, tell them that you haven’t talked to her since last week. Tell them that as far as you know, she’s still in Charity.”
Fear darkened her eyes. “Are my boys in danger?”
“These bastards want Vivian, not you or your sons. But as a precaution, I’ve got a security team watching over them and you.”
A mixture of relief and concern washed through the woman’s gaze “And who’s looking out for my daughter?”
“I am.” Reaching into his pocket for his wallet, he took out a business card that had his name and number on it and handed it over. “If you need to reach us, borrow a friend’s phone and use that number.”
She tucked the card into the purse that was slung over her shoulder, then turned and left without another word, not even bothering to hug her daughter goodbye.
The instant the door shut behind her mother, Vivian moved past him to lock it, then leaned forward, resting her forehead against the dark wood. “So, um, that didn’t exactly go well.”
“She’s…troubled.”
“God. You think?” Her tone was waspish, but he didn’t take it personally, understanding why she was upset. She straightened and scrubbed her hands over her face, then dropped them to her sides as she turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Max. I don’t mean to snap at you. I just… It drives me crazy,” she muttered, rubbing her hands over her arms. “He dumped all over her, and still, I know she’d take him back in a heartbeat if he ever showed his face again.”
“That’s rough.”
“It’s weak.”
“Naw. Love isn’t a weakness, babe.” He might have never been in love himself, but he’d seen enough of it in the Alley to know that it was a gift. Maybe one that wasn’t always treasured or reciprocated, but still beautiful. Something worth fighting for, and dying for, and protecting with all that you had.
But Vivian shook her head in disagreement. “It is when it does nothing but break you against a rock, again and again.”
He started to move toward her, thinking he just needed to hold her in his arms and give her what comfort he could, but stopped when his phone chirped in his pocket. Worried that it could be bad news, he took the phone out and glanced at the screen, quickly shoving it back in his pocket when he saw who the text message was from.
Vivian sent him a worried look. “Was that Elliot?”
Not knowing what to say, he just shook his head.
Her brow scrunched as she studied his odd expression, and then she gave a sharp laugh. “Ohmygod. You just got texted by a fuck buddy, didn’t you? You look so uncomfortable right now. If I wasn’t still so pissed off about my mom, I’d think it was kinda cute.”
Pulling his hand down his face, he exhaled a harsh sigh. “It wasn’t from a fuck buddy. It was from another pack member named Sophia. We were friends at one time. That’s it.”
“Have you known her a long time?”
He shoved one hand back through his hair, then blurted out a graveled, stilted explanation. “We met a few weeks before I was turned. And she was with me the night of the attack.”
Her expression changed in an instant. “Oh, God.”
When they’d talked about the attack in the truck, Max had been driving and hadn’t been able to fully take in her reaction. But standing just a few feet away from her in her grandmother’s living room, the early morning sunlight filtering in through the glass panel over the top of the front door, he could clearly read the horror and sympathy that tightened her feminine features and knew he needed to say something. He just didn’t know what. And he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about Soph.
For years after that gut-twisting night, everyone had thought he was crazy about the young Lycan, but he wasn’t. Instead, he’d been driven to keep her alive. Keep her from destroying herself. He’d felt he owed her that much, since she’d been the one who’d saved him that night, driving him up to Shadow Peak instead of letting him bleed out in the street after he’d been bitten.
But then, on the flip side, Sophia was the reason he’d been in
that shitty part of town to begin with, seeing as how she’d been the one who called him for help when she and some of her friends had ended up in an iffy situation. Still, he hadn’t ever held that against her, because it’d been his choice to help. His choice to do it on his own, instead of asking for backup.
Hmm. You’d think you would have learned from the lesson.
What the hell does that mean? he muttered back at the wolf.
Look around, Max. Where’s your partner? Your fellow Runners? Your family? You’re so worried about them learning what this precious female is to you, when you don’t have a single clue what you’re going to do about it, that you’re trying to do it all on your own all over again.
There’s more going on here than our connection, he argued. And I’m not a fucking kid anymore. I know what I’m doing!
A guttural laugh filled his head. Sure you do.
Piss off!
Do me a favor and try coming up with an original putdown next time, the beast said, giving a loud yawn. That one’s getting old.
“Max?”
He started at the soft sound of Vivian’s voice, blinking her back into focus. “Yeah?”
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Talking inside your head?”
He was keenly aware of the flush that moved into his cheeks, and felt like an idiot. “Sorry. I know that’s rude as shit.”
“Your, um, wolf obviously had a lot to say about your friend,” she murmured, her casual tone doing little to conceal her curiosity.
The corner of his lips twitched. “He’s not a fan, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“So what did she want?” she asked, pushing her hands in her pockets.
“Instead of living with the pack, Sophia moved down to one of the nearby human towns a few years ago, since she likes being closer to the clubs and dealers.”
Her brows drew together with a frown. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Yeah, it’s messed up. And now it sounds like she used her rent money to pay off a drug debt, so her landlord is kicking her out. No surprise there, but she wants help moving her stuff to a new place.”
“And you’re not going to text her back?”
“I’m not.” He exhaled another rough breath. “That probably sounds shitty, but I finally realized it was time to back the hell away about six months ago, and I told her then to stop contacting me. I’m done getting sucked into her dramas.”
This time, she was the one whose lips twitched with a tight smile. “So me and Sophia, always needing our white knight to pull us up out of the shit, huh?”
He jerked his chin back, giving her a what the hell look. “Where did that come from? I wasn’t comparing the two of you. Christ, you’re nothing like her.”
With a soft, bitter laugh, she said, “Call me crazy, but you’re caught up in a drama because of me right now.”
“I’m here because I want to be,” he ground out. “And this shit isn’t your fault.”
She looked away, catching her lower lip in her teeth.
“I mean it, Viv. And you comparing yourself to a woman who spent years trying to manipulate me, while only thinking about herself, really pisses me off.” He closed the distance between them, tilting her chin up with his hand, needing her to look at him. It was the first time that he’d touched her since they left the Reapers’ safe house—other than holding her hand—and he could tell from the way her breath caught and her pulse jumped that she felt the connection burning between them just as strongly as he did. She might not understand what it meant—shit, he knew she didn’t—but she definitely felt it.
Or hell, maybe it was just their chemistry or attraction or whatever you wanted to call it that had caused her reaction. God only knew it was stronger than anything he’d ever experienced.
“Max?” she whispered, after a few seconds had passed and he was still just standing there, staring down at her.
Shaking his head, he curled his hand around the back of her neck, under the weight of all that thick, silky hair. “Sorry. I just…” He drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out, his heavy gaze locked tight with hers, voice quiet and raw as he said, “I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again, okay? I think you’re amazing, and one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. You have so much shit being thrown at you right now, but you’re not letting it break you down, and that’s… That’s a goddamn miracle, Viv.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as she pulled away from him, the look he caught on her face before she turned making him frown. He didn’t think he’d ever known anyone as complicated as Vivian Jackson, but it didn’t put him off. Hell, when it came to her, nothing seemed to make him want to take a step back and regroup.
“So, um, what now?” she asked, when she’d walked a few feet away, then turned back around to face him.
Max frowned without giving her an answer, his attention caught on the dark circles that were forming under her eyes. She’d slept for most of the day yesterday, but still looked exhausted, and he had a feeling that whatever change she was going through was continuing to drain her energy. And she was definitely still going through the…transformation. Her scent just kept getting deeper and richer, until it was all he could do not to sniff at her pulse points like an animal, every single time he got close to her.
“If we lay low,” he said, finally answering her question, “we can probably chill here for a while, until we figure out our next move.”
She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach those incredible blue eyes of hers. “That’d be great.”
“Think there’s any food in this place?”
“My mom always keeps Gran’s freezer stocked, so I’m sure we can find something to heat up.”
They headed into the kitchen together, and even though they kept the blinds down and the curtains closed, there was enough daylight seeping around the edges that they didn’t need to turn a light on. They found a breakfast casserole in the freezer, and Vivian defrosted it in the microwave, before putting it in the oven.
“It needs to heat up for about forty minutes, so I thought I’d grab a shower,” she said, setting the timer on the oven before looking over at him. “There’s a TV in the spare room in the back of the house, so you could hang out in there if you want.”
“Sounds good.”
She showed him to the back room, and Max stretched out over the quilt-covered double bed. Grabbing the remote for the TV from the bedside table, he turned the set on low, then flicked through the channels until he finally found an old Bruce Willis movie.
Just as he heard the timer she’d set for the casserole start to go off, Vivian came back into the room dressed in a pair of yoga pants and another one of those slouchy shirts like she’d worn at the motel, and his body instantly tightened with need. Forcing his physical craving for her back with a heavy mental shove, he managed to make small talk as they headed back to the kitchen, dished up the casserole, and took seats at the small kitchen table. The food was amazing, and he was relieved to see her finish everything on her plate, knowing damn well that she needed the nourishment, the shadows under her eyes only getting darker. When she gave a little yawn, he told her to go and grab some sleep, and after a brief argument about how she wanted to help with the dishes, she finally gave in and headed back to the bedroom where he’d been watching TV.
His thoughts churned nonstop while he cleaned up in the kitchen, working tirelessly over everything that had happened since they’d first set eyes on each other only a few days ago, and Max knew sleep wasn’t in the cards for him. So he made his way into the living room and shifted a comfortable-looking green chair over toward the window, angling it so that he could see around the edge of the curtain, out onto the street, while sitting down. He spent hours keeping an eye on things, relieved that no one seemed to be watching the house, and must have dozed off eventually, because when he jerked awake from another nightmare, the day had given way into evening and darkness filled the room.
Walking over to the bed, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then tucked the afghan in tighter around her slender body, since it was getting colder in the house, even with the heat on. He meant to stop leaning over her like a creeper and go back out to the living room, resuming his watch at the front window, but couldn’t resist taking a moment to run his thumb across the silky, freckled skin that curved over her cheekbone. Couldn’t stop thinking about how insanely good it had been to get her under his hands and mouth at the safe house, the pleasure she’d given him more intense than anything he’d ever known, and he hadn’t even gotten his cock in her.
And now, all he wanted was to do it again. But this time, instead of keeping himself on that tight-ass leash, he wanted to just let go. Wanted to satisfy each and every one of the primal, visceral desires…hungers…cravings that were coursing through his system. Wanted to get inside her so badly he shook with it, as if the need might actually break him apart.
And it wasn’t just the connection making him feel that way. No, no way in hell.
It was everything.
It was her.
Her fire. Her smiles. Her laugh. Her strength. Her spirit. Her mind. Her scent. Her eyes. Her mouth. Her hands. Every exquisitely feminine line and curve of her body. And even that thick, beautiful hair. He needed to fist his hands in it again and hold her beneath him. Hold her close while he pounded himself so deep and hard between her silky thighs that he was hitting the very heart of her. Breaking her open. Breaking her apart, just so he could hold her close afterward and put her back together again.
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