by SE Chardou
I smiled to myself. Max had a great personality, dry wit and made me laugh. He could also make me jealous, angry, suspicious and downright petty. Yes, he was God’s gift to women but when I looked into those gorgeous aquamarine eyes of his, I lost and found myself all at the same time. The caress of his skin against my cheek was one of the sexiest moves he could make followed by the way his right hand gripped my swan neck in a possessive but gentle squeeze. I melted around him and sadly, I couldn’t see past him. Maybe I should have told him I loved him too and I wouldn’t have sat alone, miserable in a piss soaked dress that had begun to smell up the car with that awful, acidic stench. He would leave and never come back because he had no reason to return to me ever again.
I should have said something; I should have given him a reason to stay with me instead of a million excuses of why he’d be better off without me.
The back door suddenly opened and Max stood against the car as I sat up as quickly as my bum leg would allow me.
“Come on, I brought some wet towels. It’s as good as we’re going to get to clean you up for the time being. Out of your dress. Now.”
I took off my dirty dress and slid out of my panties, tossing them on the floor. He did a general wipe off before concentrating on the area between my legs and my buttocks. Tenderly, he helped me step out of the vehicle where I was exposed. I had nothing covering my body except three tattoos—a magnolia vine on my right thigh that had been untouched by the bullet, a snub-nosed pistol below my right ribcage surrounded by the words, “Love Hurts,” and another magnolia vine on my left shoulder blade.
Max quickly dressed me in a black t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts that came just above the knee. The flesh wound was hidden beneath the jeans and dressed with a large Band-Aid until we could get to the hospital.
He ran a brush through my hair before he set about breaking into the Armada and transferring all our belongings into the SUV.
“So, here’s the plan. We’re gonna drive as fast as we can to Orlando International Airport. Once there, we’ll get tickets for a flight out of the country. Then, we’re going to drive this stolen SUV and go to some shitty county hospital in the worst part of the city. Hopefully the car is stolen again—we can take a cab back to the airport. We have to get you treated before we leave the country, baby,” Max explained before he kissed my lips, his own lingering longer than necessary.
I nodded. “What if they’re looking for us?”
“They are but we can’t get far before getting you treated. I swear to God, we are on the first thing smokin’ that is leavin’ the country. I don’t care where it takes us, just as long as we get the fuck out of U.S. airspace—you got that?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Max helped me into the Armada before he raced over to the driver’s seat and used a special kit. First, he disabled the LoJack system, rendering the device useless. Apparently the family kept a spare set of keys somewhere in the car because the light to the push button ignition flared orange and the engine turned over as soon as Max pressed it with his foot on the break. Moments later we were safely driving on the highway heading North on I-95 toward Orlando. I’d never been so relieved or so scared in my whole entire life but I held on to the faith that Max and I had each other.
Nothing was truly lost to us and we could take on the world together. We’d survived this and I refused to believe Dimitri could outsmart us—not when we were such a lethal and deadly combination apart but together, we were unstoppable.
Chapter Sixteen
Maxwell
A Week Later
Max stretched out beside Mags and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She turned toward him and grinned before glancing at the ocean again.
“What’s up?”
She shook her head as her pale green eyes met his. “It’s just so fucking blue . . . it’s beautiful here and I don’t wanna go back.”
“We don’t.” He looked towards the gorgeous view they had of the white sandy beaches and endless blue water. “Not now at least. However, we do have to make a run to the Caymans. We can’t carry all this cash on us and besides, I need to establish my one account there wasn’t compromised.”
“Could that be a day trip perhaps?” she teased as her fingers tickled the back of his neck.
“Believe me, you’ll love the Caymans too, Peaches. The scenery is equally awe-inspiring and there are a lot of things for us to see and do while we’re there. Either way, I promise you won’t be bored.”
Max studied the water again and thought about how different everything could have been but it worked out for the best.
Mila had only given him a small part of his money; five hundred thousand to be exact but along with the cash was the information about a sizeable portion of the banks Dimitri used in Switzerland.
He knew the right people and for a fee that was well worth it, Trey Lennon, a member of the Lucifer’s Saints, had hacked into various accounts belonging to his former mentor. He’d drained over two hundred million dollars in five-million-dollar withdrawals and programmed each to take a trip around the world. As the money hopped from one account to another, it eventually became untraceable through its many networks. Trey had set the pattern to last for two weeks before the money ended up in several accounts in the Cayman Islands. The operation had cost him well over two million dollars but it was worth it to Max.
Money would no longer be an issue for them and although they would never go back to the carefree lifestyle they lived before, without financial problems, every part of their existence would be tolerable.
Not that Max was all that concerned about being on the run from Dimitri. Now that he knew the chances of him taking out his brother and father were slim, it’d given him time to focus on the Koslakov Mafia and their network of associates. As beautiful and lovely as their current vacation spot happened to be, it also served as a frequent location Yevgeny Kitaev visited often. He owned a huge second home, a hillside villa on a golf course in Montego Bay. He was in good company with many other well-to-do Europeans and Jamaican native families who happened to be the most fortunate on the tiny island sitting in the middle of paradise.
Dimitri would be the last man he would go after but until he did get around to him, he planned to assassinate every one of his stepfather’s partners and acquaintances. His Russian backers would finally think he’d gone too far and decided to wage war on his own people and one by one, they would all fall away from him like dominoes.
This is exactly the reaction Max was hoping for. It would make it that much easier to tear his former mentor’s kingdom down, brick by bloody brick.
After Dimitri’s business associates had been dispatched of, he would go after the key soldiers. They would never see him coming because although he knew he was capable of becoming a monster, it was a side of him he wished Mags had tamed.
Unfortunately, she was only one person and although she had been a calming influence on him as a person—both psychologically and spiritually. However, she would never be able to change who he fundamentally was. The beast inside him was created by one monster: Dimitri Koslakov and not until he was dead, gone and in the ground rotting would that dark side of him succumb to light and perhaps an overwhelming sense of peace.
Max wasn’t naïve and never thought he could ever truly be a good person but perhaps there was some part of him that was worthy of redemption. He had to place his faith in that, the same way he knew he loved Mags more with each passing day. There was hope that one day, he’d love her so much, his heart might burst from happiness but until then, he was content to hold her in his arms and show his emotions rather than embarrass her constantly by expressing to her how much she meant to him.
Mags turned toward him before she stood.
Her thigh was fine though an ugly purple bruise still marred her perfect golden skin. The bullet had to be operated and removed but since it wasn’t an actual live round, they were able to blame the accident on the ineptness of phantom frie
nd to handle a weapon.
Their story, which was accepted by the emergency attendants, was a friend—who didn’t realize she’d slid the safety off—aimed, fired and shot Mags accidentally.
It wasn’t exactly a lie since he knew his mother had meant to wound her but maybe should have aimed somewhere other than her thigh.
“I’m gonna take a dip in the water. You sure you don’t wanna come?” she questioned while all he could do was look at her and drink in the essence of her beautiful body.
“I don’t know. That could be a dangerous proposition coming from you,” he murmured as his eyes stared into those pale green orbs that had him positively mesmerized.
Mags laughed out loud. “Oh come on, Max. Please don’t tell me you’re scared of little ole me. What could I do to a big, strong guy like you? Smother you to death with my breasts? Maybe choke the life out of you with my thighs? I’m still healing you know.”
Max laughed out loud. “Okay, fine, you’ve convinced me.”
She rewarded him with a tempting smile as he stood to his feet. He grabbed her suddenly and threw her over his shoulders as she began to fight and pound his shoulders with her fists.
“Put me down! This isn’t funny, Max!”
“Actually, it’s hilarious.” He ran towards the water and held her over his shoulders until he was waist deep before he set her down.
She placed her hands on his pecs and glared at him with cold green eyes. “That was an asshole thing to do.”
“Come on, Peaches, live a little. You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“Very funny.” Her facial features softened as she looked at him again. “Are you sure we should do this, Max? I mean, once we put the plan in motion, there’s no going back. We could live a good life. Hell, we’ve got more money than most people will ever spend in a lifetime and we can stay one step ahead of Dimitri.”
Max shook his head as he stared at her with bright aquamarine eyes. “It’s not a choice, Mags—at least not one we get to make. He’s gunning for us—I shot his wife for Christ’s sake. He wants me dead.”
She looked away from him and glanced towards the sun. “All I know is when I was with the WKs, Koslakov was feared more than Abandonato. I can’t tell you why because they’re just as deadly to me—different ways they do business but dead is dead if you fuck up and piss them off. I don’t know . . . maybe Brad and Nel didn’t fear Angelo as much as they feared Dimitri because he didn’t look for me hard enough. Perhaps if he found me and knew what they’d done to me . . . maybe he could have put the fear of God in them.”
His right hand grabbed her throat before he worked his way up to her chin and turned her to face him. “Abandonato did everything in his power to find you, Mags. I know because I was the one put on the detail to make sure he never located you. The WKs have been doin’ business on and off with the Koslakov Mafia for a while. They figured they needed protection from the Italians after what they did to your parents. Please don’t think Angelo isn’t gunnin’ for the people who did that to his favorite cousin and her husband not to mention the disappearance of their daughter.”
“What’s your plan then? A life on the run?”
Max shook his head. “The WKs are small fish in a big motherfuckin’ pond. You said you wanted to know why they killed your parents. Along the way, I’ve told you a lot of half-truths. The real reason why your parents are dead is because Sophia was Angelo’s cousin. That was Dimitri’s first strike against Angelo. No one knew we were comin’ at the time—hell, we didn’t even know Nevada was gonna be our home base.
“For a while, Dimitri tried to get some traction in Southern Nevada but it was a no-go. The Tri-Cities area—Reno, Carson City, Lake Tahoe—was a better fit. Before he knew he wouldn’t be able to get past the Italians and the Unions in Vegas, he put out a hit on your mother. The WKs accepted the offer. Five million dollars. They owed Abandonato two mil and kept the rest. Your dad didn’t steal shit. He’d always played fair with them but he died because of who he was married to and no other reason.”
She lightly bit her bottom lip. “I know why you’re telling me this . . . but why now?”
“We can’t have secrets from one another—not if this is going to work. You knew I saved your life but perhaps you didn’t know why. Now you do,” he answered honestly.
“Why do I get the feeling that isn’t the only reason?”
Max smiled genuinely. “It’s not. I still want to meet with Angelo Abandonato. As soon we get back to the States, I plan to arrange a meet.”
“Are you sure about that?” She looked into his eyes again. “Meeting him would be a dream come true for me. Now I know he thought I was important enough to look for, I have all the respect for him in the world. How do we know he won’t get spooked and put a bullet in your brain?”
“Well, first of all, I do want to marry you. Raz was right about one thing. I love fucking men but I love fucking women too. I’ve always known I could go both ways and for a long time, I thought perhaps Raz and me had a future. That was until I met you. I need a ride or die chick, Mags. Without a fucking doubt, that woman is you. I knew it from the first time you stepped into Brad’s office and met me. I sure as hell know it now.”
Mags wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why Maxwell Cartier—”
“Maksymilian Gillespie actually.”
“Okay . . . Maks . . . are you asking me to marry you?”
“In my own roundabout way, yes, indeed, I am. You are the first person I’ve met who truly understands me and in this life, that’s a fucking rarity. There’s no one else I wanna wake up next to or fall asleep curled in my arms. I wanted you then, I desire now and I will always crave you,” he explained in a sincere voice.
“Yes.”
“Yes? That’s it?”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“You’re not gonna fight me on this decision?”
Mags shook her head. “Not on your life! I want to be with you too. Even if we’ve only know each other for four months and have decided to pledge undying love to one another.”
“Well, some people do it in a shorter period than that.”
“Like who?”
“Those bachelors on television. How do you fall in love in six weeks?”
“I think it’s eight.”
“Whatever. You wanna do this or not?”
“Yep . . . only because I’m pretty damn sure it took me nine weeks to realize I loved you . . . maybe ten . . . eleven . . . twelve—shit, I’ve lost count. You know what’s really crazy? I don’t care when I realized I wanted you but I do and life’s too short to play games.”
“I’m glad you realized that.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Max wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his mouth against hers as she ground her body against his.
It was the best feeling in the world and would definitely take the edge off of what he had to do that night.
He didn’t want to think about it but he knew it would start the whole process in motion.
One way or another, he and Mags would bring Dimitri down and end that son of a bitch.
Revenge couldn’t have tasted any sweeter than having the woman of his dreams in his arms as the turquoise Caribbean waters lapped around them.
Life was perfect.
For now.
Epilogue
Magnolia
Eventually our Caribbean escape came to an end and when it did, there was one less Russian Mafia family to contend with and the war had begun.
Not with a bang but with a utter whimper that could be heard throughout the underworld.
Despite having no evidence to the contrary, Dimitri was suspected and blamed for Yevgeny Kitaev’s death and the brutal beating of his wife. Max didn’t have the heart to kill her although she certainly wasn’t innocent or unsuspecting of what her husband did for a living. However, she repeatedly whispered to the Montego Bay Police Officers and staff at Monte
go Bay Hospital, “D'yavol sdelal eto.”
The Devil did it.
Everyone in the underworld knew Dimitri’s nickname. He wasn’t known as Dimitri “Devil” Koslakov for nothing.
Max never told me whether or not he spared his mother that night when all the shit went down in Boca Raton but after the murder of Yevgeny, I knew he couldn’t have murdered her. Not that I could fault him for making that decision. She was the woman who’d given him life and if he couldn’t end hers then I had to respect that.
We returned from the Caribbean after securing enough cash to keep us off the grid and settling our accounts in the Cayman Islands. I wore a princess cut pink diamond ring Max had surprised me with the last night we were Jamaica before we left for the States.
There was no going back to Northern Nevada. Not at this time when everything was still too hot and we knew Dimitri was actively looking for us. Instead, we settled into New Orleans and bought a fashionable, two-bedroom penthouse condo off Lake Marina Avenue in Lakeview. We were several blocks from Lake Pontchartrain. The building, relatively new and built in 2000, had survived Hurricane Katrina but the structure hadn’t sustained any damage.
We settled into our new life with relative ease. The only issue that concerned me was meeting Angelo. I couldn’t believe how the closer the date approached, the more anxious I felt.
Max had set it up because I didn’t trust myself to go through with the phone call. Angelo readily agreed, probably out of curiosity more than anything else. I’d made reservations for us at an uptown restaurant, Gautreau’s, which was known for it’s excellent food and upscale dining. It was an intimate restaurant where I knew we would all feel safe and secure.
Trey Lennon updated Max three times per week, usually by text from a burner phone, as to what Dimitri knew in terms of our whereabouts. We’d told no one—not even Rasmus—where we were staying in the States. It was safer that way because if he was captured and tortured, there wasn’t any information he could give to compromise our location.