Berserk

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Berserk Page 11

by K. S. Adkins


  “My father tried to have you killed?” I say, more to myself than to her. “My father tried to have my wife killed? My father tried taking you from me?”

  “It’s looking that way, yes.”

  “I’ll fucking kill him myself.”

  “Max,” she says, crawling into my lap. “Look at me. I know you want to, I know what that need feels like, but there’s more, and no one is killing anyone until we get the rest. That uniform was hired, girls being taken from here, drugs and weapons being sold here, even if we stop Hank we aren’t stopping the problem.”

  “What?” I grate out. “Girls? I thought that was random. I mean, it fucking happens everywhere. Guns and drugs? I don’t let that shit in here!”

  “Max!” she growls, bringing me back. “You weren’t letting it in here but it found it’s way in when you weren’t looking. Trust me, I know. Venessa and Macy, add it up; this is not a coincidence. Don’t tweak out on me here; we’re partners. This is what partners do.”

  “Fuck! I need to talk to Tony.”

  “I’ve got someone working on that.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Don’t do this with me,” she growls. “I’m not the enemy. When I said I was here to help, I meant it. Your father’s hands were bloody long before Lush’s doors ever opened. I said it before, if it wasn’t Lush it would have been something else.”

  “So then the real reason you came back was because—”

  “Of Hank,” she finishes. “But this goes higher than Hank, Max. A lot fucking higher.”

  “How high?”

  “DPD high.”

  “You’re not joking.”

  “Afraid not.”

  “Being home, here with me, you’re in danger.”

  Grabbing my face and kissing me twice, she looks me in the eyes. “I’m always in danger, Max,” she says. “It’s one of the things I live for.”

  “I can’t let anything happen to you,” I whisper. “I won’t.”

  “Ask me what else I live for.”

  “What else do you live for, Blue?”

  “You, Max,” she says, with pure fucking love in her eyes. “I live for you.”

  Closing my eyes and taking several breaths, it makes sense. I should have seen it, should have known, but I was so focused on other shit I didn’t, I missed it. Since the day I opened this place I’ve been played. Hank for one, Tony for another, just to name two. The only person in my life who’s ever been straight with me is curled up in my lap, and I left her behind.

  Holding her to me looking down at a finger that no longer wears my ring, I feel the change come over me. The change that was always there, hiding, waiting for the right time to surface. Fate sent her back to me and I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to get between us. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt my wife, wearing a fucking smile while I do it.

  Even my own father.

  “Why him?” I ask her, picking up glass from the floor. Of all the men that she parades through here, that piece of shit is a constant. He treats her horribly, not that she’s coherent enough to get it, but I’m forced to be around it and I’m sick of it. Tonight I was trying to study; I’ve got finals this week, and I didn’t have the luxury of running the streets tonight. Lina is asleep in my room while I clean up the latest disaster in my mother’s life. Rinsing the blood from my finger where the glass nicked me, I remind myself that this is temporary.

  “He takes care of me,” she says, reaching for a new glass. If she would just drink directly from the bottle, it wouldn’t certainly cut down on dishes.

  “He doesn’t take care of you,” I remind her. “He keeps your mind blown out and your legs open.”

  Laughing, she lights a cigarette and stumbles back into her room. “Like I said, he takes care of me. You need to find a man to take care of you, too. With those looks ain’t no man gonna love you because you’re pretty.”

  Throwing the glass in the garbage, I go back to my room, slamming the door behind me.

  “You’re beautiful,” she says while staring at her algebra book. “She’s just jealous.”

  Lina is a lot of things; sweet and cuddly isn’t usually one of them. “I know I’m not a dog, but doesn’t she see we’re practically identical?”

  “That’s the problem,” she says, looking up. “She doesn’t see anything. If it makes you feel better, she was lying.”

  “About what?”

  “When she said he takes care of her and that you aren’t pretty, she lied.”

  “Thanks, Lina.”

  We finished inventory together. Max made several calls to vendors, and the cleaning crew came and went. I’ve never seen him work before. To say he’s a business man wouldn’t be giving him credit. He’s a leader, a very strong and powerful one.

  Calling Lina, I leave her a voicemail. Rafe calls me giving me the uniform’s name and lets me know he’s off the grid. Wonderful. Rafe also says Rogan is taking Venessa up north and he’s laying low with Macy. He asks me when I am calling my team in, and the answer is not yet. If I call them in now, Hank will hide, and anyone in the DPD that’s a part of this will scatter, too. Oh and the little fact that I have a civilian partner and the fact that I’m married to the same man I’m investigating would mean my job. Looking over at Max I can honestly say I could give a fuck about the job, but I need it to close this case. After that? Who knows…

  Content to just be near him on the way back home my phone startles me, especially when it’s my personal line. Considering I’ve already spoken with anyone who would actually use it, including Bishop, it catches me off guard. Swiping the screen I answer, not at all surprised the Captain finally found me.

  “̓Sup, Cap,” I say by way of answering, because the Captain used to ride me about my street talk, too. Yes, I’ve buried it over the years, but from time to time it’s fun to let it out.

  “Agent Allen,” he says. “Or can I still call you Jules?”

  “You can call me whatever you want,” I offer. “How’s the ticker?”

  “Not you too,” he groans. “I’m fine, I’m too stubborn to die. Why is it you’re back and from what I hear married, and yet I knew nothing of it?”

  “Never came up in conversation?” I ask sweetly.

  “Jules, I’ve known you since you were a kid. Sprung you from holding three times and taught you to shoot. How could you not tell me?”

  “Only two of those times were actually my fault, Cap, and the third was a setup,” I explain. “If memory serves, I taught you how to shoot and no one knew I was married. It wasn’t to hurt you; we just wanted it to be the two of us.”

  “So what brings you back then? It ain’t a visit, so you mind telling what’s going on in my back yard?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Jules…”

  “Sorry, Cap, this one’s over your head.”

  “Unbelievable. Don’t make me choose, Jules. There’s ways to do this, and excluding me ain’t the way.”

  “Not asking you to choose Cap,” I say. “Just asking you to stay out of my way.”

  “A courtesy call would have been—”

  “Unnecessary,” I say. “I don’t need your permission, and I certainly wouldn’t ask for it. I’m handling it, Cap; stand down.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “And you’re making a point, I get it. Take care of that ticker, Cap. I have to go.” Disconnecting, I take a deep breath and tuck my phone away. Reminding myself that though I’m back, this certainly isn’t my home anymore.

  “The Captain isn’t happy you’re working behind his back, is he?”

  “No,” I tell him. “And he doesn’t have to be. I outrank him; pure and simple. He knows his department is on my radar, and he sure as hell doesn’t like that, either.”

  “What happens next?”

  “More training.”

  “After training?”

  “I have an idea or two,” I say, smiling. When he smiles back I see that he gets it. With this da
rk cloud hanging over our heads, who knows how long I have with him, but the time I do have is going to be spent with him inside me as much as possible.

  “That’s her?” he asks, studying the photo I gave him.

  “Yeah that’s her.”

  “She’s beautiful,” he says before putting it in his pocket. “Where was this taken?”

  “On the riverfront,” I tell him, remembering the day perfectly. “She was here for the weekend. That’s the only time we came outside.”

  “You love her.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

  “She loves you too,” he says. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “Thanks, Tony.”

  “A word of advice,” he says, opening the door. “A woman like her needs her freedom but, she also needs to know she’s loved. She knows she’s loved, right?”

  Hanging my head in shame, I don’t answer. Because I don’t have an answer.

  We’ve been training for what feels like days. Not to mention we started out with a run. In all my life I’ve never ran anywhere. When she dressed for it my dick got hard. Tight pants, tight top, sports bra, and two pistols all were stuffed perfectly around her body. She runs with guns. A few weeks ago that would have freaked me out, but now it feels normal.

  While we ran she wanted to talk. I could barely breathe let alone carry on a conversation, so I let her do all the talking. Her legs are so short she had to work double time to keep up with me, but she did. Ten minutes in she even kept up with me while running backwards. My lungs hurt, my sides were burning, and my calves were fucking screaming at me. She smiled and told me to suck it up, that she does this every morning. Ten miles, every god damn morning. This is why cars were invented; humans weren’t built for this shit. But for her I’m determined to do better, as soon as I can breathe again.

  My final lesson for the day was disarming her. She explained how it looks easy enough, but that when an experienced person carries in most cases they know how to protect themselves and their weapon. Giving it a shot I lunge, going for her pistol. Just as I reached for it she has my wrist bent, my fingers touching my own palm, and my eyes watering.

  “Again,” she says, showing me a move. Trying it out, she sweeps my legs out from under me and uses her fingers as a mock pistol, showing me that had I been anyone else, she’d have blown my head off.

  So we do this over and over; I’m fucking tired and I’m hungry. Slapping me in the shoulder she tells me to use all the moves at once, back to back. She even gives me a handicap by walking away. Deciding it’s now or never, I attack. She blocks and attacks back. It’s full-on combat, but somehow I managed to hold her and relinquish her of her weapon. Letting go of her, she looks back at me and nods, followed by a smile.

  I fucking did it.

  Breaking for dinner I pull out what we need and start throwing it together while she talks to her friend Lina. She’s just in the other room, so when the chicken is in the oven and everything else is waiting, I decide to stand on the other side of the wall and listen.

  “You’re good where you are, then? You know I’ll get you out,” She asks Lina. After a moment she says, “You trust him?” Seeming pacified with her answer, the rest of the conversation seems average until I hear her say, “He’s just a job.” Pause. “No, I don’t love him, not even a little bit.”

  My heart fucking stops.

  Staggering back, I look around my kitchen for an escape. I swear the walls are moving and the floor was swallowing me. Hearing her say it hurts more than I thought possible. I never thought I’d actually lose her, not for real. Our history was always one goodbye or another; I never thought it could be permanent. This time is different; this was worse, because she was never mine to lose, and for once I thought I had her. Just as she hangs up I head to the door to grab my keys and get the fuck gone.

  “Max,” she says. I tell myself not to turn around; don’t fucking do it, dumbass.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “No you’re not,” she says, stepping in front of me. I swear to god I want to slap her for doing this to me. “The thing about eavesdropping is that you only hear one side of the conversation; you also only hear what you want to hear.”

  “Fuck you,” I say, pushing her away. “I know what I heard; I know how I fucking feel right now. Don’t fucking play with me, Jules; I’ve been played enough.”

  When she pushes me against the door, I try moving her hands off me because her touch physically hurts me, but she refuses to let go.

  “Look at me, Max,” she says. “Please.” Like a fucking coward I open my eyes, confused by the softness in hers. “I told you many times Lina can sense lies.”

  “Not you Jules!” I growl in her face “Everyone else can play me but dammit not you!”

  “I’ve also told you that we always play games with each other, and she calls me out and I lie to her on purpose.” She tells me after screaming at her. “It’s how she and I communicate; Max, take a second and think about what you heard.”

  Kicking around in my brain the pain is too raw for me to make sense of it. Then I think back on all the times she’s talked about Lina and it fucking clicks. Lina, the anomaly. The girl who catches every lie, no exceptions. “You do love me? I’m not just a job?”

  Nodding to me, she smiles, and I just fucking snap. I’ll never get women, fuck I’ll never get this woman. I’m so primed right now I don’t know if I’m fucking happy or dying inside. One second my world ended and then it exploded with joy again. I’m not built for this kind of emotional shit. Grabbing her I pick her straight up, despite my arms screaming at me. She wraps her legs around me and I take us both down to the couch with her on the bottom and me crushing her. We attack each other like we never had before. She’s rough, I’m rougher. Pinning her arms above her head I get eye level with her and get serious.

  “Say it.” When she just smiles, I apply pressure to her wrists like she taught me and her smile gets brighter. “Fucking say it.”

  “I love you.”

  “Again,” I order, grinding into her.

  “I love you.” Releasing her wrists I literally rip the clothes from her body, needing her bare to me. Not just her body, but all of her. She owes me this. Undressing myself I wrap her around me, grab her neck and pull her face up to meet mine.

  “Again.”

  “I love you, Maxwell.”

  Spreading her open I slam it home. Her back arches while mine tightens. As long as I live I’ll never get enough of this, enough of her. I rarely sit on this couch because I just don’t fit, no way could I fuck on it, but looking at her I was willing to take a chance. We started on the couch but that was a disaster. Rolling us to the floor and pushing the table out of the way I fuck her into the wood floor. She’s scratching and moaning while I rail her hard and without mercy. The entire time I go at her she tells me she loves me. Over and over again she says it like she can’t stop saying it. Each time she does, I get closer to coming. Desperate to fuck even harder I toss her onto the couch where she knows to drape her arms over it and put that ass in the air. Watching her do what needs to be done, I work my cock over getting place behind her.

  When she looks over her shoulder, she looks up and right at me. When she says, “I’ve always loved you, Max,” I bury myself as far I can go, pumping into her, railing her long and deep so there’s no fucking doubt who loves her back. My right hand is gripping her hip where the tattoo stares back at me. Gripping her even harder I have no words to tell her how fucking sorry I am. How it was my actions that kept us apart. But the harder I fuck her is my way of telling her that I was never letting my wife go.

  Pushing herself up she reaches her tiny arms behind her to grip my ass, pulling me to her. Thrusting short because she won’t let me pull out, I grind down on her and she moans, declaring her love for me again. Pulling her hair I bring her mouth to mine and take everything she’s got. Suddenly she moans deep and I feel her coming all around my cock. Breaking the kiss I roar wit
h my own release, taking her down with me. Still pumping my hips I wrap her up, my body encompassing hers, and whisper in her ear, “I love you, Blue.” I promise her, “God, I Swear I never stopped.”

  Turning around so we’re face to face she gives it back to me. “I know, Max; neither did I.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Being with you could never hurt; it was being without you that did.”

  “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. We’ve got now, Max.”

  “We’ve got forever, Blue. That’s a promise.”

  Covering her, touching her, watching her breathe is the first taste of peace I’ve had since the day I met her. When I married her I made a promise to never leave, and I broke that promise. Tonight, I promised her forever, but there’s a small part of me that wonders if that was a lie, too.

  I don’t even trust myself anymore.

  “Are you ever coming home?”

  “Eventually,” I tell her, being vague about it. If she knew that I did in fact visit but didn’t make time to see her and Macy, she’d flip and try to cut me. “I promise.”

  “It’s boring without you and Lina,” she pouts into the phone. I know Venessa, so I know when she pouts “Macy and me haven’t been arrested in years.”

  “If I promise to get us locked up when I come home, would that make you happy?”

  “Yep.”

  “Deal.”

  Venessa is like a tsunami when she’s up there performing. The Venessa I know is pretty laid back but Kharma, that chick, is a wild card. When I sent the group text out earlier I let them know I’d be here tonight and asked if we could have some girl time; they said yes. I’ve heard the stories of her up there, but this is the first I’ve seen it. To sum it up: Rock star status. So while Max looks things over Macy and Rafe are keeping me company while Rogan watches Venessa. My god, he’s a mean-looking son of a bitch, but seriously one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met, next to Max that is. Speaking of him he comes over often to fill our drinks or just to touch me. Finally we can open in front of others and it feels amazing. This time when he comes over he wraps his arms around me, puts his chin on top of my head, and keeps me close. Rafe looks especially happy about it, but no one here is happier than I am.

 

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