The cell slams against the wall so hard the case cracks and flies off. Tumbling to the floor along with her heart. His gaze never lifts from his bare thigh, the muscle twitching under his fist.
“You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
His lips move like a fish searching for oxygen yet no words escape. His eyes sink shut and he shakes his head, clutching his forehead with his palms.
She grips his arm, jerking the dead weight. Still nothing. She scrambles onto his lap, clutching his cheeks in her trembling hands. “Damn it Max. Fucking say something.”
“Nick....”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Panic steals her voice, and she can barely push out the words. “What about him?”
“He’s...dead.”
14
Chapter FOURTEEN
Gina winces from Max’s tight clutch on her hand as they run through the foyer and up to the nursery. Yet she refuses to complain. Unable to chastise him for his worry over her when Shae barely hangs on.
He stops short, and she fists the back of his shirt to keep from tumbling against him. A sob burns her throat from the pitiful sight in front of them. Shae sits on the floor, scraped knees tucked to her chest. Bits of gravel stick to the web of crimson crisscrossing her pale skin. An unfocused gaze stares toward the white shelves adorning the brown and pink polka dot walls. Covered with memories of their once perfect life ‒ her and Nick’s wedding. Evie’s hospital picture. The first time Max held her. Just the hint of a smile on the infant's tiny lips as she lies swaddled in her godfather's arms.
Blade squats next to her, murmuring words Gina can’t make out. But it doesn’t matter what he says. None of them seem to register to Shae, her fingers twirling the huge diamond round and round on her shaking hand.
The bodyguard stands, his face drawn with worry as he nods to them. Acquiescing to the friends who want to help but probably can’t. Not when revenge steals away the future Shae only recently accepted as possible.
“I’m so sorry.” The bravado Gina attempts fails, her cracking voice revealing her agony too. Yet Shae doesn’t respond to her condolences or her embrace. Her trembling skin like ice even with Max’s heat curling around them. Gina steps back, allowing her fiancé to scoop up their friend off the caramel carpet.
“I don’t want to wake her.” He nods toward the cradle before curling Shae against his chest. Her body as limp as her spirit, not responding to Max’s rich voice filling the quiet space. Too broken to resist or comply.
Gina peeks at Evie, her mouth slightly parted with soft breaths rustling the lacy edge of her sleeve, her tiny fist curled near her head. Calm. Peaceful. Safe. From the savagery spinning in their world. Immune to their hearts crumbling around her. While hers beats contently, rising and falling under the soft cotton of her flowery blue sleeper.
Fire races through Gina’s core. So fucking unfair. This baby survived so much hell to get here, only to lose her father a few weeks after her birth. Resisting the urge to stroke her delicate curls, she leans closer. “Even if your daddy is gone, you and your mommy will always be surrounded by love."
She quietly slides the door shut, fastening the lock to reinforce the impenetrable material. Grateful with the remodeling Nick ordered to make the nursery and master bedroom a fortress for the girls. Which they need more than ever with what Max’s about to do.
She strides through the other doorway, connecting to the master bedroom. Forcing herself to get her bitterness under control, she drops down next to Shae, curled on the sofa in the small sitting area near the wet bar. This time Max squats in front of their friend, her tiny hands engulfed by his huge fingers.
“I will keep you and Evie safe. You know I will always protect you.” He glances at Gina, his unwavering gaze meeting hers. Reminding her of the promise he made earlier. “All three of you.”
She nods, confirming her commitment to his choice. Their choice. They will take care of their friends. This is their family now.
“What’s going on?” Uncertainty coils through Shae’s voice as she scans his face. Recognizing, even in her grief, the tension pulsing in Max. Realizing the risk he takes. For her. For all of them. “Please wait! Don’t go!”
He ignores her tug on his arm as well as her plea and nods to Blade, already jogging backward out of the room. “Do whatever you have to do to protect them. Only Andy and I are allowed in here or the nursery.”
“I don’t understand. What is he doing?”
Damn. Shae’s already been through hell and the horror isn’t over yet. Gina swallows hard, bracing herself for her friend’s panic. “He has to stake his claim on Nick’s business. Or they’ll…”
Fucking hell, how does she shelter this innocent woman who’s endured more than she ever thought she’d be able to withstand? “Without Nick here, they might kill you. Both of you, as part of an attempt to take over.”
Her friend’s head shakes, unable to understand how people she trusts, men who guard her body and her home, could turn on her. The realization must settle in and she jumps up, wide eyes flitting from Blade to the nursery. Uncertainty jerking her movements, questions of what to do playing out on her paled face.
The bodyguard treads backward, closer to the monitors lining the wall, and lifts his palms slightly. Wanting to signify his innocence. Struggling to prove he’s not the enemy. “It’s okay, Mrs. DeMarco. I would never hurt you or Evie.”
Shae turns to her, seeking reassurance. Which Gina can only offer because of Max. “It’s okay. We’re safe.”
A slight nod, before Shae perches again on the edge of the cushion. Not completely convinced of Gina’s assertion. She grasps her friend’s quivering hand. Trying not to freak out while they wait.
Blade shifts on his feet, relaxing slightly, before he glances at the screens. Must be thinking the same thing she is. Turn them on and see what’s playing out beyond their hiding spot. But watching the confrontation could be even worse than not knowing.
“He had a call.” Shae’s whisper drags her out of the anxiety engulfing her. Her head tilts, reliving the memory only she can see, her long hair tickling Gina’s bare leg. “There was some kind of problem. He was so worried. I could see it in his eyes.”
Let her talk? Shush her fears? She has no idea what to do. Nothing can make this better.
“He told me to stay with Blade and walked away. Then he climbed in the car. He never does that. He never leaves me.” Her tear streaked face lifts up from staring at their bed, searching Gina’s features. “Why did he go without me?”
Her chest clenches from Shae’s heartbreak. So many questions none of them will ever receive the answers to. “I don’t know.”
“I ran to him, but the flames were too hot. There was so much fire. I couldn’t find him.”
The same story Blade related to Max while they drove to the mansion. Having to tackle her to keep her from getting too close. Dragging her away from the possibility of another explosion. Her collapse onto the sidewalk when Dominic confirmed Nick was gone. Never said a word the entire ride home. Running to the baby’s room to confirm that at least her child was safe.
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt.”
“But I am.”
Shae caresses over her chest. Trembling fingers grasping the pink fabric covering her broken heart. Just like Gina’s.
Max jogs down the stairs. Only Dominic stands in the foyer. Hesitation lining the man’s face as he glances back to the garage.
“Are they all in there?”
The bodyguard’s head dips, confirming the assembly getting ready for a reprieve or a massacre. No time for doubts. Any hint of indecision blasted away along with Nick’s body.
After Dom pushes open the door, Max takes a small step inside. Letting his gaze flick from man to man. Owning all twenty of them. Waiting for him to take charge. Or take a bullet.
“Who fucked this up?” He keeps his voice low, almost too soft to hear. Forcing the men to strain toward him.
&nbs
p; Nothing.
Scanning the group again, he stops on Leo, a small twitch of the man’s pinky reflecting his guilt. He waits, knowing the bastard will never confess. But someone else will. “Who fucked this up?”
Several flinch at his scream. Fucking blazing hot in this airless garage. At least that’s what it feels like when death licks at the edges of his inferno.
“It was Leo.” Dominic lifts his chin, smug defiance in the face of his team member’s failure. “He was talking to some girl at the hostess stan—“
Wide eyes stare back at Max from the bullets ripping through Dominic’s chest. “Fucking rat pussy.”
The barrel swings to Leo, pumping three shots into his torso too. The other men wince more than the traitors he just assassinated. He waits, letting their bodies fall. Watching their blood sprinkle onto the textured concrete. A sharp contrast of cranberry against dull oatmeal.
“Nick’s dead because these assholes couldn’t do their god damn fucking job! These lazy motherfuckers have put every single one of you in jeopardy. Now we’re on the defense. Which we’ve never been on before. So now I’m going to be the one to fucking fix this.”
He shoves his gun in his holster and drops his arms to his sides. Effectively unarmed, conveying that he’s the boss. Not through intimidation or force. But because he is. And fucking hopeful he’s right that they’ll submit to his reign in the middle of chaos. “I’m in charge now. My territory, my rules. I’m meeting with my captains in an hour. Until then, the house is on lockdown. Nothing has changed with your orders to protect Mrs. DeMarco and the baby.”
No protest. Yet no agreement. Shock keeping their mouths and feet motionless. Heads jerk toward Andy, stepping inside, a prismed bottle dangling from his tattooed hand.
A farewell toast he can barely stand to make. His best friend’s gone, and he has to act like he doesn’t give a damn. Disregarding the man and their friendship so easily. Not caring about anything except grabbing the power.
He accepts the whiskey and raises the decanter above his head, the golden liquid glinting beneath the severe fluorescent lighting. Lifting his eyes to the heavens in tribute. “To Nick. He’ll be missed. But the fucking world goes on.”
The smoky liquid slides down with ease, past the lump in his throat, pooling with the sorrow simmering in his belly. Along with the self-hatred for treating Nick’s passing with such nonchalance. Fuck it. He does this for the girls. To honor his friend’s only request.
He offers the liquor to Anthony. Who brings the rim to his lips, taking a long drink without hesitation. Thank fucking god. The men pass the bottle between them. Each of them giving their tribute to Nick. And their loyalty to Max.
Once the improvised ceremony ends, he points to Leo and Dominic sprawled on the floor. “Get them the fuck out of here. I don’t want the women to see them.”
John and Mario hustle over, one grabbing Dom’s feet while the other man grasps his shoulders, hefting up the huge man. Good. Another reassuring sign of their obedience to his orders. He strides into the house, reiterating his confidence in his authority by turning his back on them. Demonstrating his faith that none of them will put a bullet in it.
At least not today. Hopefully the next confrontation will go just as well.
15
Chapter FIFTEEN
Gina stands behind RJ, hugging herself in a futile attempt to keep from trembling, while he furiously taps the keyboard to grant her access to the penthouse. An impromptu transformation from their home to Max's new office with just a few calls to summon the deadliest members in Nick's team. Off limits tonight to everyone but the new boss and the empire he plans to reign.
So different than three months ago when she enlisted the tech nerd’s help. Last time she chased Max here to save his heart. This time might be to save his life.
Lucky that RJ didn't question her lie that she misplaced her card key in the chaos. The computer geek not bothering to double check with Max or Andy. Afraid to rouse their anger, especially with the stress already gripping them. Keeping himself out of trouble while unwittingly getting her into it. Just wanting to quickly override the system so he can scurry back to complete Max's other assignments. Unaware that granting her admission wasn't one of them.
Which is fine. He doesn’t need to be pulled into this any deeper than he already is. Max is going to be so pissed. With explicit instructions before he left not to leave the mansion, she defies every order he gave her. To keep her safe. And him from worrying. But she can't leave him on his own. She trusts Andy. Everyone else, not so much.
Her heart races in her chest. His first meeting with Nick's – his – captains. Which could disintegrate with just one misstep if any of the men harbor illusions of grandeur, thinking this is the perfect opportunity to launch their own glorious reign. She's not naive enough to think they won't start shooting with her there. Nick's rule that women and children are off limits may no longer apply. Especially if an unquenchable greed for power drives their actions. The greatest threat to a new ruler is his own uncertainty. Which Max cannot show regardless of how much he despises being thrust into this position.
That’s why she's here. No one knows more than her. Sometimes you have to kill to protect the people you love.
The techno nerd grins as the display lights blink from red to green. Always smug when he shows off his skills. “There you go.”
“Thanks, RJ.”
The tip of Andy's Glock greets her as she pushes open the door. His furious gaze bores into hers. The whispered swear just as harsh as if he screamed it. He shakes his head, his taut body softening, and he taps his finger against his lips. Goosebumps explode on her sweaty skin from his warning. Uncertain if he's protecting her or Max. Probably both of them.
Jabbing his finger toward the hallway behind her, his wordless reprimand orders her out. Now. By the look on his flushed face, he doesn't care where she goes as long as it isn't here. Sorry Andy. As much as she likes the bodyguard, she ignores his command. Regardless of how angry he becomes. Because they both know he can't do a damn thing about her intrusion. A tussle in the foyer could be the tipping point for all hell to break loose in the meeting. Neither of them willing to risk it.
Mouthing 'I'm sorry,' she toes off her heels. Thank fucking god they’re strapless. She sneaks down the corridor, and silently slides open the door to the kitchen, which allows her to see the living room from the serving pass-through to the dining area, while giving her a bit of camouflage.
Her breath catches from Max sitting in the same chair as when she found him last time, so lost and desolate. His huge body filling the beige cushions.
That night his limbs were loose, limp with alcohol and despair. Now, he appears just as relaxed. Yet she knows the truth. His only tell that he has no tells. Doesn't tap his fingers. Or roll his neck. Or stroke his hand over his black hair. Just gazes at the four men and one woman staring back at him.
Minutes tick by, and no one speaks. Sweat rolls between her breasts and down her quivering stomach. With the tension escalating, Diane, the mastermind behind their international shoplifting ring, crosses and uncrosses her legs. Brent rubs his hands up and down his thighs, his body coiled as if ready to jump up any second.
Come on, Max.
Do something. Say something.
Before they kill you.
Duke blows out a deep breath, a distraction to hide his hand sliding down to his pocket. Fuck! She curls her shaking fingers around her gun, scared to act. Yet even more terrified not to.
Andy steps into the room, and Max nods to the mercenary, confirming his presence. Duke’s fingers glide to the armrest from the bodyguard’s proximity. Cupping her palm over her mouth to keep from crying out in relief, she lets her hand fall away and drops into the stool. Rather than risk falling with her wobbling legs. Trying to protect him almost too dangerous for her head and her heart.
“You know why I've asked you here. Nick’s dead, and I call the shots now. Anyone who has a fucking thing
to say about it, better fucking speak up.”
Her heart twists. The loss of their friend still raw and bitter. Made even worse with Max’s emotionless declaration. They’re not even allowed to mourn Nick’s death in this fucked up world.
“Fuck this.” Brett leans closer to Max, a threatening gaze boring into her fiance. The most defiant and rebellious of the group. Also the one with the most to gain if he decides to battle Max for control. With the entire west coast distribution system under his command, he could rally an army of insurgents with a single phone call. "Who gave you—"
"No one gave me jack shit. I took what belongs to me."
Their eyes flick to Brett, waiting for his reaction. A snarl curls the man’s lips, his freckles more prominent as his face flushes.
“Just because you ran security doesn’t mean you can run this empire. You really think you got the fucking balls to handle it?”
“I know I do.” Max reclines against the chair again and holds out his palms before tilting his head. Smug, relaxed, and unconcerned. Everything she’s not. “But if you don’t believe it, try me.”
Brett blinks a few times. His debate to accept or ignore the challenge canvasses across his face. Finally, he slouches against the black leather seat, giving an almost imperceptible nod. Breathing air back into the room and her squeezing lungs. Fucking shit. Her own body falls limp against the wall behind her. Max is safe. At least for now.
“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s focus on business. Mrs. DeMarco and her daughter are under my protection and should remain untouched. They don’t—”
“First Enrique’s daughter and now Shae. Are you going to start fucking the nanny too?” Matteo gives a haughty laugh and looks around, trying to garner support for his fucking stupid remark. No one joins in the rally of his insult, most of them ping-ponging their gazes from Max to the moron. The twitch in Max’s cheek means he’s thinking the same thing she is. If this guy wasn’t the best in the business at making enemies disappear, his own stupid ass would vanish too.
Truth About Tequila: Believe in Me (Surviving Absolution #4) Page 12