The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  “They’ll never see the initials on my hip.” She wiggled her gorgeous ass into my groin.

  I’d kill them if they did. Her breathing deepened, and her body melted into mine. I kissed her head. The beautiful creature in my arms was so strong on the outside and so delicate on the inside. She was my strength—my polar bear. I’d bleed for her. I’d break every bone in my body for her. Right there, right then, I vowed I’d give my soul to protect her, even if that meant working for the devil.

  Chapter 8

  Kade

  I couldn’t sleep. After lying awake for three hours, I decided to get something to drink. My mind was twisting and turning with shit I didn’t want to think about.

  I hesitated before I climbed out of bed, making sure Lacey was sound asleep. She was curled up in a fetal position facing me, her eyes moving rapidly, her long brown hair fanned out above her over her pillow. Her breathing was even, and if I weren’t mistaken, she was dreaming of something nice since her luscious lips curled upward.

  I slowly got up, threw on my jeans, then padded down to the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet save for the fridge humming. Moonlight sprayed in from a window in the small breakfast area just off the kitchen, allowing me to move around without having to turn on the light. I searched the cabinets adjacent to the fridge and snagged a glass.

  I had my hand on the faucet when a bang from the front of the house caused me to drop the glass in the sink. I grabbed a knife from the wooden block, spun around, and carefully made my way out of the kitchen. As I veered into the hall, icy cold air slapped me, practically knocking the wind out of me.

  Straight ahead, tree branches swayed in the distance as the sound of leaves rustling filtered into the house. The front door was wide open, the back of it banging against the doorstop.

  What the fuck?

  We probably hadn’t closed it all the way earlier. With the knife ready to strike, I shuffled forward. I didn’t think it would be necessary to call the cops unless I found signs of an intruder.

  I passed the staircase and peeked into the front living room on my way to the front door. After a quick scan, I quietly closed the door and locked it. My heart slammed against my ribs as I darted upstairs, hoping Lacey was still asleep. She wouldn’t handle this well. God, not after the home invasion in California.

  I poked my head into her room and relaxed. She was still sleeping soundly. After I checked the three rooms upstairs and every room downstairs, my pulse slowed even more. The garage was my last stop since the house didn’t have a basement. Lacey’s Mustang sat in the far bay. I quickly walked around then went back in. I had to remind myself to talk to Lacey and make sure she switched on the alarm when she was home, although I’d been the last one in and as soon as she’d deactivated the alarm I’d been all over her.

  I returned the knife back to the block and rummaged through my mind, wandering around the first floor checking every room again. Maybe the door didn’t latch, and the high winds had blown it open. I scolded myself for being so careless. I’d only had Lacey and sex on the brain. Think with that Mensa brain of yours, Maxwell.

  Raking a hand through my hair, I realized I was standing in the middle of her old man’s office. A nightlight glowed from somewhere in the room. Just about every room in the house had a nightlight of sorts for Lacey. Maybe I could find a connection between Robinson and Lorenzino and validate what Pitt had told me. Something to give me some form of assurance Pitt wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass. Not that any of what he’d said would ease my mind.

  Music awards hung on the walls. The top of the desk was covered with file folders.

  I crossed the carpeted floor to sit in the leather chair behind the desk. I switched on the desk lamp and started opening drawers. The top right one was laden with pens and paperclips. A box of cigars was the only thing inside the second. The last drawer was empty. The remaining three drawers on the left held computer cables and power cords.

  I directed my attention to the file folders. The first five contained what appeared to be contracts and letters, all bearing Eko Records’ letterhead. I opened the next one and found a picture of Harrison Lorenzino. Fuck me. I was about to flip it over when a scream tore through the house. I bolted upright. The picture and the folders fell from my hands. Someone was in the house. I sprinted out of the room, up the stairs—taking them two at a time—and into Lacey’s room, where I stopped dead in my tracks.

  The ominous scene in front of me sent ice through my veins. I knew she had nightmares. This wasn’t one. This was a full-on night terror. I only knew the difference because my mom had them.

  A ray of moonlight spilled in through a crack in the curtains, shining on the very spot where Lacey was kneeling on the bed, cradling her pillow in her hands, rocking back and forth. “No! No! No!” she screamed. “Please wake up, Mom. Please. You can’t die.”

  Tears poured out of her wide-open eyes as her hair stuck to her damp face. I slowly approached her and eased down on the bed.

  She continued to rock and cry and shake and breathe heavily in a trance-like state. Then she started petting the pillow as though she was smoothing a hand over someone’s hair, murmuring, “I love you,” over and over again.

  I held my breath. Memories of my mom flooded back. She used to wake up with night terrors right after my sister died. My father taught me not to wake her, but to gently place a hand on her or hug her if I could. Night terrors usually occurred shortly after one fell asleep. It didn’t matter. Demons didn’t follow the definition of a night terror. Hell, they made their appearance whenever they wanted to.

  I maneuvered myself so that I was sitting in front of her with my legs extended on either side of her, careful not to jar her awake. I got closer and wrapped my arms around her. When I did, she stopped rocking. I rubbed her back and kissed her hair as she snuggled into me.

  I repeated over and over in a hushed whisper, “I love the crap out of you, baby. I’m here for you.”

  I didn’t know if she could hear me, and if she did if it would help. Shit, but my mantra was definitely helping to calm my nerves. I did love the crap out of her. I’d never loved anyone as strongly as I loved the broken woman in my arms. PTSD was a hard illness to overcome, and I would do anything to help her heal.

  As I kept repeating the two lines in a soft tone, my eyes began to burn with tears.

  Once her breathing evened out, I removed the pillow from between us and gently tugged her to my chest. I dozed off while I held her, waking again as sunlight replaced the moonlight.

  She stirred awake. I didn’t move. Actually, I didn’t think I could. My legs were asleep. Her hand started moving over my morning erection. Shit. The more she lazily rubbed, the harder I grew.

  “Mornin’,”she said sleepily. “Why are your jeans on?” she asked as though it was a sin for me to be wearing them.

  For fuck’s sake, it was a sin in my book. I should be naked like her and rolling on top of her as we slowly woke up together.

  “And why am I sitting in your lap?” She lifted her head and kissed my neck.

  I growled angrily at the voice in my head. She mistook that as her cue to slip her hands inside my jeans.

  Control, asshole. With all the willpower I could muster, I pulled away her hand, when all I wanted to do was feel her hand wrapped around me.

  She protested with a soft whine, and that sexy tone only served to make my entire body pulse with the need to repeat our earlier shower scene—only in bed.

  “Baby, do you remember anything from last night?” I dragged the backs of my fingers along her cheek.

  “Should I?” She batted those long lashes, and I thought back to when she’d recited those nursery rhymes for me. “Are you okay?” She got on her knees, and I lost it.

  I pushed her onto her back and leaned over her, nipping at her lips, her neck, then her bre
asts. She arched into me, letting out a soft moan.

  Then my phone rang.

  I kissed my way up to her lips, ignoring the irritating piece of technology. When it stopped, I said, “We should get ready for school.” We still had a couple of hours, but I needed to straighten up the folders on the desk. I leveled up on one hand. “You had a night terror earlier.” I brushed a thumb over her eyebrow.

  “Do I want to know what I was doing?” Her eyes were downcast.

  “Let’s just say it was about your mom.” I nipped at her nose so she would look at me. “Did something happen in California?”

  According to Lacey, she’d had nightmares for the longest time after she buried her mom and sister. My guess was she’d also had night terrors. My old man had explained to me that nightmares occur during REM sleep and people usually wake up kicking and screaming. In the end, they remembered either the last of the nightmare or sometimes all of it. With night terrors, nine times out of ten, people hardly recalled them at all.

  “Maybe visiting my mom’s grave stirred up old memories.”

  No doubt. “Can we talk about what the cops said other than the lead?” I hated to jump into this conversation while she was naked and my body was begging to do so sexy things to her again, but I had to find out what she was afraid to tell me while we had some privacy.

  She tensed beneath me. “The police believe that whoever killed Julie and Mom were after something and that they may not have gotten it.”

  Every muscle in my body tightened. Pitt’s words filled my head: “James Robinson has something the Lorenzino family wants.”

  Looks like I’m going to be a tutor.

  Chapter 9

  Lacey

  Silence followed us to school that morning. I rode with Kade since I hated driving in the snow. I stared out the window, not paying attention to the passing landscape. I was searching deep within my mind to recall any part of my dream, but I was coming up empty. Kade had said it was about my mom, and I wanted to remember. My psychiatrist, Dr. Davis, had said that analyzing a dream sometimes helps you to cope with and control intrusive memories. Between the discussion at the police station and visiting the cemetery, my subconscious was probably working overtime.

  Kade’s rough fingers grazed my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. “I’d love to be in your head right now.”

  “Was I doing anything weird when I was having the bad dream?” I glanced at him. Hopefully nothing embarrassing.

  His copper eyes filled with concern. “You were calling out your mom’s name.” He interlaced his fingers with mine. “It’s okay. You weren’t sleepwalking.”

  I’d been known to walk in my sleep. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers.

  “Do you want to tell me why you’re so tense?” Something seemed to be bothering him. I didn’t know if it had anything to do with my dream. He always worried about me. He’d seen me black out.

  He made a right into the lot of the sports complex and parked in his usual spot behind the school. A mixture of deciduous and evergreen trees dotted the landscape in front of us. Several trees were showing signs of spring with tiny buds on their branches.

  “We didn’t turn on the alarm last night. You usually do turn it on every night though, right?” He cut the engine.

  “Of course, but last night I had a sexy guy distracting me,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

  One dimple emerged, then two, then his honey-brown hair toppled over his eyes. He met me halfway. Once his lips touched mine, delicious tingles shot down my belly, erasing any thoughts of bad dreams or alarms. Kade always did that for me. I loved being able to sleep with him without worrying about the time or rushing home. I had at least two more nights to snuggle with him.

  “My dad might not be home until the weekend,” I said against his lips.

  He had meetings at Eko Records, and he wanted to check on Zeppelins, the club he owned in LA. I’d encouraged him to stay as long as he needed, but the conversation had turned into a full-blown argument. I understood his worry about me staying home alone, considering what Detective Fisher had told us, but I couldn’t live with someone babysitting me all the time. I knew how to handle a gun. I knew self-defense, and I had a group of guys who would protect me at all costs. Kade and his brothers were fiercely protective to the point where they could suffocate a girl.

  So, I’d come clean. I told Dad that Kade was staying with me while he was in California. After all, I was eighteen. Initially, he’d protested. After I explained to him that Kade would kill anyone who touched me and that we were responsible adults, he reluctantly gave in. He liked Kade, but I was his little girl.

  Kade’s kissing my ear jerked me back to the present. “Shower again tonight, then?” he asked.

  A bang on the window made both of us jump. Kade pulled away and turned to the driver’s side window. I peeked around Kade to find Kelton’s not-so-handsome mug staring at us.

  I gasped. “What the hell happened to his face?”

  Black and purple bruises marred the area around his eyes and jaw. His nose even appeared broken.

  “I told you. Brothers playing around.”

  “You beat him that bad?” My voice hitched. “What did you do? Take a baseball bat to his face?” There was no way Kade would inflict bruises like those on his brothers. I thought back to our phone conversation on Friday night when I was at the LAPD. He’d sounded out of sorts on the phone.

  Kade growled before he said, “Why don’t you say ‘hi’ to the triplets?” He tipped his head at Kross’s Jeep. “I’ll be out in a minute. I need to send a text to Hunt.”

  “You’ve been on that phone all morning.”

  “I’ll be out before Kelton gets his hands on you.”

  I doubted that. Kelton was a guy who liked to hug, and not a simple hug—a grizzly bear hug. I shrugged, grabbed my backpack, and jumped out. Once outside, I zipped up my jacket as I rounded the back of the truck. Before I could even lift my head or protest about the freezing temperatures, I was tucked into strong arms.

  “Hey, girl.” Kelton squeezed me as though he was trying to get the last of the toothpaste out of the tube.

  “I thought I taught you how to hug gently,” I managed to say before he let me go. “What happened to you? You look like a raccoon.” We wandered over to Kross’s Jeep, parked on the other side of Kade.

  Kross and Kody were leaning casually against the Jeep mumbling something. Kade got out of his truck, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

  Kelton grinned at me like the cat who caught the canary. “The girl I dated over the weekend was wild in bed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I smell a lie.” I hadn’t said much about Kade’s bruised jaw or fat lip. The brothers always helped Kross spar in the boxing ring they had in their garage. So when Kade had said it was brothers fighting, I brushed it off.

  I cozied up to Kade against his truck. “What happened for you to beat Kelton like that?” Anger was beginning to bubble to the surface. “Dare I ask if you guys saw Greg over the weekend?” If they had, I didn’t understand why they didn’t just tell me. I was getting angrier that they kept evading my questions.

  Kross and Kody choked or laughed, I couldn’t tell which. Kade glared at them. I got the feeling I’d hit the nail on the head. I wasn’t going to blow a gasket, yet. I wanted Kade to come clean. I knew his brothers wouldn’t. They could be interrogated by the law or an enemy of our country and they wouldn’t give up information, no matter how much pain was inflicted. Although trying one more time might spur Kade into action.

  A gust of wind whipped my hair in all directions. I brushed it from my eyes and skimmed my gaze over Kross. “You’re the one who has a legit excuse, and your face is practically clear.” He had a small cut over one of his eyebrows.

  “Darling, I’m the
best.” He crossed toned arms over his chest, his massive biceps bulging through the letter jacket he was wearing. “The dude didn’t stand a chance against me. And neither do my siblings.”

  Cocky much? I diverted my gaze to Kody. In the past, he’d been the one who was always willing to talk.

  He lifted his hands shoulder height. “I had my fill of fighting. I don’t need another broken nose, especially not from my brothers.”

  Just for good measure, I pinned a look on Kelton. He combed a hand through his disheveled hair as his blue eyes stood out in stark contrast to the blackish bruises. I waited for him to say something, but the only sound was the wind.

  “And all of you are full—”

  Kade popped off the truck, pivoted, and blocked me from his brothers. When I opened my mouth, he planted his lips on mine, warm and soft, tasting like mint.

  After he’d had his fill, I said, “Your kiss may make my panties wet, but it doesn’t fog my brain. You’re not telling me something. You know how I hate that, Kade. Let me decide what I can and can’t handle.” It had been a while since Kade and I had fought, and when we did it was usually about things he held back from me or didn’t want to talk about until he was ready.

  He eased back and shot a quick glance over his shoulders. I peered around him. His brothers were gone. I didn’t blame them. Anytime Kade and I got into an argument, they scurried away like cockroaches.

  “We’re going to be late,” he said. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  I didn’t like when anyone demanded I tell them something I wasn’t ready to tell either. Regardless, I had the urge to stomp my foot and scream. “Tonight it is.”

  He went to grab my hand, and I shoved it into my coat pocket. He angled his head at me. I shrugged. We strolled down the path to the main building. Kids were trampling across the snow-covered lawn, heading into school. Puffy clouds skated across the sky. The way it had been snowing, I doubted Coach Dean was going to have baseball practice outdoors this week. We’d been using the indoor facility for the last three weeks. Coach had started practices mid-February.