Max (Ride Series Second Generation Book 6)

by Megan O'Brien

  I grinned, relieved that despite so many changes, some of the very best things would be staying the same.

  Chapter 20

  WREN

  “Buy you a beer, sweetheart?” the unfamiliar man on my left asked and was promptly met with a low growl from Max as we sat along the barstools at Mad’s.

  I rolled my eyes as the man slunk off to a table in the back. “You’re such a caveman. It’s a good thing you’re cute,” I scoffed.

  “Cute?” he demanded incredulously, clearly not liking that description.

  “Cute, hot, and outrageously handsome,” I assured him with a grin, leaning into him for a quick kiss.

  The past few weeks had been good. Great actually. I’d officially moved in with Max. My injuries were nearly fully healed, and I’d just recently convinced Max to let me ride with him. The summer was nearing its end, and we’d spent a few days at the lake with friends. After a blowup fight, the worst we’d had yet, I’d started back at work with a Knight member always in tow. My nights were spent wrapped up in Max. We’d been taking it slow—well, Max had. If lady blue balls were a thing, I had them.

  Max’s phone pinged with several texts as I finished my drink. “I’m not gonna be able to take you home tonight,” he announced regrettably, looking at me briefly before turning back to his phone to fire off a text.

  “What happened?” I asked, trying to hide my concern.

  “Nothin’ for you to worry about,” he was quick to assure me. “But I gotta ride out with a few of the guys tonight. I’ll have Gunner take you home and keep an eye on things until I can get there.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the prospect but knew better than to protest.

  He chuckled at my expression. “Hopefully it won’t be long. And I’ll tell Gun I’ll pound him if he’s not on his best behavior,” he added.

  I shot him a skeptical look. It wasn’t that Gunner was a bad guy; he just had the sense of humor of a fifth grader.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him. I didn’t want him worrying about me when, despite his attempts to assure me, I could tell whatever he had to go deal with was important.

  He reached over to pull my hand up to his lips, kissing my knuckles before tapping the bar twice and standing up to leave.

  I watched him go, hoping the churn in my gut that felt like something terrible was about to happen was wrong for once.

  ****

  Gunner took me home, striding into the house like he owned it, and after greeting both dogs, moved to the kitchen to immediately forage in the fridge.

  “Making yourself comfortable?” I asked with a laugh as he stood up, an apple in his mouth and a beer in hand.

  He shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

  “Want me to make something?” I offered.

  “You don’t have to,” he protested. Obviously, Max’s words of warning to be on his best behavior had at least somewhat made their way through.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him, muffling a smile. “How about a grilled cheese?”

  His eyes popped comically. “One of my favorites.”

  I laughed at his enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll get started.”

  “So, how’s being shacked up treatin’ you?” he asked, plopping down in one of the barstools and taking a giant bite out of his apple.

  I looked at him dubiously. “We’re going to small talk, really?”

  He chuckled. “Well, damn, Wren, you always did like to bust my balls.”

  “Wasn’t so much something I liked, more something that had to be done.” I sighed dramatically.

  He shook his head, grinning.

  “It’s really good,” I answered, serious now, looking down at an expectant Sky as she looked up at me, no doubt hoping I’d drop something. “Things with Max, they’re good,” I shared, waiting for him to tease me.

  Instead, he nodded, his gaze sincere. “You two are good together.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured. “How about you?”

  “How about me what?”

  “Anyone catch your eye around here?” Despite his antics, Gunner had never had a reputation as a ladies’ man.

  “Nah.” He shrugged dismissively.

  Something about the way he wouldn’t meet my eye said there was more to the story, but I didn’t push.

  We sat in surprisingly comfortable silence as I finished his sandwich and slid it in front of him.

  “It’s late. I’m gonna turn in,” I told him quietly. “Thanks for staying.” As the words left my mouth, the dogs started barking and growling ferociously toward the back patio. I’d never heard them do that, and the hair rose on my neck at the sound.

  “Fuck,” Gunner bit out, immediately pulling out his phone. “Go lock yourself in the bedroom, back of the closet. Now,” he ordered as he held the phone to his ear.

  I looked at him wide eyed and turned to do as he asked. Now was not the time to argue, even though despite my fear, I wanted to help. What if he was outnumbered? What if he got hurt? I could hear him on the phone with someone—Max?—telling them to get to the house.

  I ran on shaking legs to our bedroom, locking the door behind me. I could hear the dogs, their barking more frenzied as I eyed the bedside table where I knew Max kept a gun. I grabbed it, ready to hide in the closet when the sound of glass shattering from the living room hit my ears at the same time as the bedroom window broke as well.

  I stared in horror as a large man climbed in through the window as sounds of a struggle could be heard from the living room.

  “Stop right there,” I ordered, training the gun on him. Pop had had me shooting at eight years old, and I had damn good aim.

  He took a step back, his dark eyes assessing me. He was heavyset with dark beady eyes and a receding hairline. I took him in. He was big but obviously out of shape. Even now he was huffing and puffing from the effort of climbing in through the window. I might not be able to take him, but I could likely outrun him if given the opportunity.

  “What do you want?” I demanded.

  He sneered. “We’re gonna take a little drive,” he replied simply.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I growled, hoping I sounded a lot stronger than I felt.

  He took a menacing step toward me.

  “Stop,” I repeated, holding the gun higher.

  He smirked, seeming entirely too comfortable despite my having a gun trained on him.

  My heart hammered in my chest as my palms began to sweat.

  “Go ahead,” he prompted, again taking another step toward me. He didn’t think I’d go through with it.

  I swallowed hard and pulled the trigger, squeezing my eyes shut.

  Nothing happened.

  His amused laugh had me opening my eyes in shock. “Looks like you’re out of bullets, sweetheart.” He smirked, yanking the gun out of my hand.

  Shit.

  Chapter 21

  MAX

  “Somethin’s not right,” I growled to Maddox as we waited at the drop point along with Cash and Xander. “Are you sure your intel is good?”

  Maddox had heard the Rossi’s were doing an arms deal inside city limits, and we wanted to be there when it went down. This was our best chance to bring some hurt on those assholes. Now, it was an hour past the time we’d been told, and my instincts were screaming at me to get back to Wren.

  “I thought it was, man.” Mad shook his head. He had a source he’d used for the past few months, but he wouldn’t tell any of us who it was. If I didn’t trust the man so damn much, I’d be suspicious. Just as I was going to press him, my phone rang with Gunner’s name flashing on the screen.

  “Fuck,” I swore. “Gun,” I barked by way of answer. I knew something had to be way fucking wrong for him to be calling.

  “Someone’s outside. Need you back here,” he replied. I could barely hear him over the sound of the dogs going crazy. “I put Wren in your room, but I don’t know how secure that is. Not sure what I’m up against.” His tone was calm, but I knew my best friend wel
l enough to detect the underlying stress in his voice.

  “We’re coming,” was all I told him as I hung up and started up my bike. I couldn’t spare the time to say more. I didn’t need to explain anything to the guys, they’d heard the conversation. Within seconds, our motors were revved and we were hitting the highway back to my house.

  Even at the speed I drove, it felt like an eternity to get there. I wasn’t accustomed to feeling fear. The thought that something could be happening to Wren in that very moment, that she could be hurt or worse, had me feeling helpless and so fucking angry a red haze had formed in my vision. I had to fight to think clearly through it as I parked off the road a half mile from my house. We needed the element of surprise, and the sound of our bikes wouldn’t allow for that.

  “Gun didn’t say how many,” I shared as the guys came to stand alongside me. “I don’t know the state of play. We go in quiet.”

  I didn’t wait for agreement but simply took off at a run. I’d never moved so fast in my life. The sound of a gunshot as we neared the house had me doubling my pace.

  A glance through the shattered patio doors showed Gunner standing over a dead man, a smoking gun in his hand. “Wren?” I panted, stepping over broken glass.

  “In your room. I haven’t been back,” he replied, his breathing labored. “Was fighting this asshole.” He swore, kicking the dead man with his boot.

  I ran back to my bedroom, finding both dogs whining at the closed door, the sound making my gut clench in fear. The gnaw and scratch marks proved how hard they’d tried to get into the room. I opened the door and at first didn’t understand what I was seeing. The window was shattered, and a large man was laying over Wren. It took me a second to realize he was dead and she was trapped under him.

  “Fuck!” I swore, racing into the room, the dogs at my side as I hauled the man off her. Wren crawled into my arms, knocking me to my ass. She was sobbing uncontrollably as I pulled her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her.

  “Fucker’s dead,” Mad announced. “I don’t see any wounds.” His tone was confused as he and X peered down at the him.

  Gunner soon joined us, his face dark with remorse at what he saw. “I’m sorry, Wren. I couldn’t get back here.” He was shaking his head, clearly tormented. “I had two guys on me. One I took care of. The other ran. Not sure how far he got; Bo got him pretty good,” he added, giving Bo an affectionate scratch on the head. “Could have been a lot worse without these two backing me up.”

  Wren was shaking in my arms, her head buried in my chest. “It’s okay, Gun,” she managed through chattering teeth. It killed me to see her like this. I wondered how long she’d been trapped under that fat fuck.

  His eyes turned to me full of fury. “It was a setup, wasn’t it?”

  “Must have been,” I growled, feeling so stupid for not planning for that possibility and relieved I’d at least thought to have Gunner stay with her.

  I’d never make that mistake again.

  “What happened?” I asked her quietly as I held her close.

  She sniffled and pulled back to look at me with teary eyes. “I came back here when Gunner told me to. I grabbed your gun just as he broke through the window.” Her eyes turned to the dead man on the ground. “I tried to shoot him, but the barrel was empty,” she whispered.

  Another mistake I’d have to correct.

  “He thought that was pretty funny.” She winced at the memory. “He took it from me, and I don’t know, I just sort of attacked him,” she admitted. “I knew I didn’t have much chance, but it was either that or stand there and let him shoot me.”

  The idea of my girl trying to take on that hulk of a man was upsetting at best.

  “Then he just sort of collapsed,” she continued. “I think he had a heart attack or something. Fell right on top of me, and at that angle I couldn’t get him off.” She shuddered.

  Being trapped under a dead man who’d been trying to kill you would scare the shit out of anyone. The fact this had to happen to Wren after everything had me vibrating with rage and regret.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” I rasped, holding her to me, not ever wanting to let her go.

  She pulled back again to look at me in confusion. “Why would you be sorry?”

  I scoffed. “Because I should have kept more men on you. Should have seen this could have been a setup.”

  She gripped my shoulders. “This is not your fault.” Her eyes were bright with determination. “This is no one’s fault but theirs.”

  I squeezed her hips, needing her flesh under my hands. “That gun will always be fully loaded from now on.”

  She snorted, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Or next time I’ll just shoot it more than once.”

  Despite the situation we found ourselves in—in a heap on the ground, glass all around us with a dead man three feet away, my girl managed a smile. If she didn’t get how strong she really was, I’d never stop trying to make her see it.

  Gunner cleared his throat. “Uh, glad you two are straight and all, but we need to get two dead bodies out of here and figure out what the fuck happened. And I think you might have some repair work to do,” he added dryly, his eyes on me.

  Wren scooted out of my lap, and I stood, offering her a hand up and pulling her into my side. “Yeah. I’ll call Freddy to repair the glass.” I nodded. “We can stay at my folk’s house tonight,” I added, looking down at Wren.

  Her eyes were wide and glassy as she nodded.

  I shot Gunner a look, one he understood without words.

  He nodded once. “Right. I’ll ride out over to Cal’s. Give him a heads up.”

  I nodded my gratitude as he left the room.

  “Tatum’s on his way,” Mad put in. “Why don’t you take Wren and get out of here? We can take care of this.”

  “You sure?” I asked. Normally, I’d never even consider it, but with the night Wren had had, I knew I needed to get her out of there.

  Mad nodded. “Take care of your girl, Max.” He grasped my shoulder briefly before letting go.

  “Thanks.” I swooped Wren up into my arms, ignoring her shriek of protest as I carried her through the house. “I don’t want you stepping on any glass,” I told her firmly.

  “There’s not glass over here!” she exclaimed as I neared the front door, the dogs on my heels.

  “Well, maybe I just need to carry you then.” It wasn’t a lie. Having her weight in my arms helped calm me.

  She was silent after that, no doubt sensing I needed this as I deposited her into the passenger side of my truck. The dogs hopped up in the back without hesitation.

  “I’ll run back inside and get you a change of clothes,” I told her. When I went to move away, her fingers held my tee in an iron grip. She looked up at me with wide eyes, telling me without words not to leave her. I leaned into her, pressing my forehead to hers. “Okay, babe. Scratch that idea. We’ll just find something of Mom’s for you to wear,” I murmured, kissing her forehead.

  I jogged around the side of my truck, climbing into the driver’s seat, and pulled her hand into mine where it would stay until I was forced to let go.

  Chapter 22

  WREN

  It was after one in the morning by the time we pulled up in front of Max’s parents’ house. Despite the hour, both Jill and Cal stood on the front step, Cal’s arms wrapped around his wife’s shoulders as they watched us approach. Worry shown bright and clear on Jill’s face while Cal looked pissed as hell.

  I was distantly aware of Cole and Gunner hovering inside, no doubt providing extra security in the event it was needed. It was a terrifying reality that I couldn’t even consider at the moment.

  Jill didn’t try to hug me as she normally would, no doubt sensing how much Max wanted to keep me close. “Your old bedroom is all set up,” she murmured to Max. “Mason is home from school for the weekend. He wanted to wait up, but we told him to go to bed,” she added, referring to the youngest Jackson.

&nbs
p; Max nodded, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me in close. “I need to get Wren to bed. We’ll talk in the morning,” he replied, his eyes on his father.

  Cal nodded, watching his son closely. I could tell the wait would be hard for him, but he’d do it for Max.

  “Thank you both,” I murmured as Max ushered me inside, the dogs right behind us. He guided me upstairs to his old room. It looked much the same as it had when he’d lived here. Though I’d never stepped inside in my years visiting the Jackson home, I’d certainly snuck more than a glance or two during my frequent trips down the hall to Emmie’s room.

  A double bed lay pushed up against the far wall. A simple desk was against the opposite wall piled with books. A guitar rested in the corner, clearly not one of his favorites since he’d left it here, and motorcycle and music posters covered the walls.

  Despite myself, I smiled at the room that reminded me so much of the boy I’d fallen for and the man that was now mine.

  Max guided me to sit on the bed, kneeling in front of me. I thought to protest but realized he needed to do this, and frankly, it felt good to be cared for. He examined my feet, reassuring himself I hadn’t stepped on any glass. When I expected him to stand, his head dropped into my lap instead, his arms wrapping around my waist.

  For a while, we just sat in silence, embracing. I could have said I was fine, but that would have been a lie. Instead, I let him hold me. We both needed it.

  Finally, he stood up, pulling me with him. He peeled off my clothes with a focused tenderness that had my heart pounding. He slipped the T-shirt Jill must have left out for me over my head and pulled the covers back. I climbed in dutifully as he shed his own clothes, leaving him in only black boxer briefs.

  The sight of his body never failed to make my breathing accelerate.

  He climbed in beside me, pulling me into his body and kissing the top of my head.

  Despite my exhaustion, I felt too tired to sleep. I propped my chin up on his chest, looking up at him. “I never thought I’d be spending the night in Max Jackson’s bedroom.” I grinned.