I still remember the way my hero stared at me when I finally lifted my head to look at who had rescued me, the way he pulled back my hair and told me it was all right. He was beautiful, and I was haggard and covered in filth.
“What’s your name?” he asked me.
There was a comfort to his tone, his touch. I knew I was disgusting in every sense of the word. I was shaken up, horrified and questioning everything. I hadn’t bathed in over a week, I had pee on myself and my clothes were dirty. Fuck, it was the lowest point in my entire life.
But he didn’t seem to notice or care about any of that, and when he talked to me and put his hand on my arm to comfort me, I didn’t either.
“Sophie,” I breathed my name and told him, “Sophie Miller.”
He offered me the kindest smile, and all the while he rubbed soothing circles along my back. I kept shaking’; I couldn’t stop, even if inside I felt so warm with him holding me the way he was. “I’m Madox and these are my friends, Cody and Ryan.” My gaze shifted to the other guys, both of them watching me and instinctively, I moved closer to Madox.
Madox. The name itself sounded powerful and protective. I whispered it and then looked back up at him. It was a sin to look at him the way I was in that moment. I knew I shouldn’t, that I was going to hurt later but just before I could tear my gaze away, he smiled at me. One of those sweet smiles that’s genuine and steals all your worries from you.
“Sophie’s a beautiful name.” The way he said it, I felt beautiful. I felt like someone else. I felt like the night hadn’t happened the way it did.
I didn’t question him at all when he told me, “Come on.” I was grateful when he wrapped the jacket he’d thrown down before around my shoulders.
The scent comes back to me at the thought; he smelled clean but woodsy as he held me close to his side. His hands were strong and warm, he was taller and far more dominating than the other men, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear in me.
The other two guys talked to him, their words bouncing around in my head but not being heard as I tried everything in my power to just stop shaking.
I only knew I wasn’t okay and something bad must have happened, because I couldn’t stop shaking.
I was in so much shock that I didn’t even realize I was in the car with them until the doors were closed and we were moving. That’s when I freaked out, but Madox shushed me.
He asked me to trust him, and there were no questions after that, only demands. To come inside. To shower and change into his clothes. To this day, I swear someone else took over that night. No sane girl would have blindly listened to him, especially when I remember how scared I was of Ryan and Cody. They didn’t look at me like Madox did. They didn’t know what to make of me, and I didn’t know what to make of them.
I came back to it hours later, remembering how Madox had said something at the bedroom door before closing it and before I passed out.
When I went to sneak out, that’s when I realized he’d locked the door from the inside and closed it. I remember how it felt so wrong to unlock it and dare to step out into the hallway. I only registered how expensive everything looked in that moment. I didn’t notice any of it before.
It was quiet, and the house felt lonely. I found out later that it was empty. Madox had locked my bedroom door and the doors to the house, and they’d all left together. They knew the men who’d tried to hurt me, and they hurt them back.
It’s why they didn’t run after the guys. They didn’t need to. They knew where they’d be.
It wasn’t worth it though. Madox didn’t just hurt the man, he beat him unconscious at a bar and was arrested.
The fucked up thing was that after I went home and told my mother I was sorry, and they found out what had happened and I confessed even more of the sordid truth, it was my stepfather who bailed Madox out of jail.
I felt like I owed him – I owed both of them – more than I could ever repay.
I was a girl who was no one. A girl who knew nothing. A girl who wanted to stand up for something, but fell to the lowest low when on my own. I caused nothing but problems, and I hated myself for it. If I could take it all back, I would’ve.
Until I saw Madox again a week later, complete with his group of friends, when I finally had the balls to apologize but also thank them. That day changed everything. I wouldn’t be the person I am without them.
I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been walking down the street at that moment. Just the thought of that shed gave me the worst nightmares for months, nightmares where Madox and his friends weren’t there.
The nightmares went away though the day after I told Madox about them. Because he fucked me against that same shed and told me that was the only memory of the shed that mattered.
It wasn’t my first time with him, but it was one of our firsts. The first time he took me anywhere but his bed, and the first time he showed me what depths he would go to in order to erase any pain I had.
He was right too. Nothing else mattered. That was the first time I wanted to tell him I loved him. But I kept quiet. I saved my words like he did, and pretended I was okay with that.
Lying in Madox’s arms while staring up at the ceiling fan, every bit of that anxiousness, that regret… that small bit of hope, comes to the surface all over again.
“Should I pretend to be asleep so you can sneak out? Or will you let me buy you coffee?”
Madox’s voice is calm and even, although his sleepiness is evident in his tone.
“As if you could sleep through me wrestling my jeans over my ass,” I mock him as I shift under the comforter, listening to it rustle and pretending like memory lane didn’t just tear me down to the girl I used to be. Laying a cheek against his chest, I peek up at him as he chuckles.
It’s been so long since I’ve kissed him, but in my head I always imagined it was everything. The heat, the forcefulness mixed with a tenderness that smoldered with desire. I thought a few months ago that I made him seem larger than life in my memory. That it was all in my head.
But it’s real. Every bit of it is real. The way he kisses, the way he does everything, is even better than I remember.
My fingers play with a small smatter of hair on his chest as I wonder if he wants me to stay a little longer, or if I should go. More importantly, I wonder if anything at all has changed.
Chapter 7
Madox
The Ten of Swords, is a card that foretells an ending, and a painful one at that. The deep wounds will linger, but what’s worse still, is that this card means self-sabotage. The loss is purely a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I can still feel her lips kissing down my neck as the waiter pours our coffee. The smell is rich and enticing, but it’s nothing compared to my memory of last night. I have to stare at the front door to keep from replaying every second with her in my bed, listening to the chimes of the bells hanging above the door as an older man wearing a newsboy cap enters, pausing to shake out his umbrella.
“The weather sucks today,” Sophie says, although her voice is sweet and airy. My eyes drift back to her as she blows across the top of her coffee. Mine’s black and hers is only a few shades darker than the cream tablecloth.
As she takes her first sip, I can’t take my eyes off of her. Last night was everything I wanted. Everything I’ve needed for years.
“I want to see you again.”
My words catch her off guard and she nearly spits her coffee back up. She’s frantic as she pulls the napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth.
I don’t say a damn thing, only wait for her response once she’s set down the napkin.
“Can’t we just talk about the weather and pretend like I’m not wearing the same clothes I had on last night?”
“No,” I say, and my answer is flat. I know what I want; I’m not accepting anything less. Her hesitation sends a prick of uncertainty down my spine, but I ignore it. I know she feels what’s between us just like I do. I know she d
oes.
Sophie’s smile fades to nothing and she shifts nervously in her seat before glancing at the door.
“Is that so shocking? That I want to see you again?” I ask her, feeling a wretched twisting in my chest.
Her eyes reach mine instantly. “That you would say it? …Yes.”
Anger simmers as she keeps her blue eyes on mine, prying and searching for God knows what.
“I found myself when I left.” A deep breath leaves her as she sighs and picks up her mug to take a sip. “I like the person I am now, and I don’t want to go back to what I was.”
“I understand. I made mistakes in the past; I know that now. But I don’t want to fight you. And I don’t want to lose you either.” I offer my hand to her, palm up on the small table, and just like I knew she would, Sophie sets her small hand in mine before tracing the lines on my palm with the tips of her fingers. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. I just want to see you again.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie whispers, looking lost and I hate it. I hate it all. I pull my hand away, feeling the chill in the air against my palm. It pairs perfectly with the hollowness in my chest.
“You’ll ruin me,” she answers with a dullness in her voice, a loss of fight yet complete with conviction.
Ruin her. Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do. No other man is right for her but me.
Hearing those words on her lips unleashes a part of me I don’t want to hide from her. It’s impulsive, but I grab the leg of her chair and drag it and her closer to me. She squeals, and with the addictive sound she smiles broadly. The heat, the tension, it all skyrockets as she bites down on her lower lip and that beautiful blush I love to see creeps onto her cheeks.
“People will see.” She barely gets out the excuse before I growl the back, “Let them.”
“Madox,” she says and her whisper is a hushed admonishment, but her smile stays in place as she peeks up at me.
“I wanted to kiss you.” I give her the excuse and before she can answer, I take my kiss. She parts her lips and lets me in. With both of her hands reaching up to my neck and pulling me closer, she pulls away after a moment.
“The way you kiss me…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, keeping her eyes closed the entire time.
The need to take her right now creeps up on me as she glances at her phone, and it buzzes in her hand until she clicks the screen.
“I have to go; my boss wants to meet for brunch before work tomorrow.”
“I want to see you tonight.” I leave no room for negotiation in my tone. I need her tonight.
Picking up her purse, she brushes her hair behind her ear and settles her phone into place, leaving me waiting.
Just as I’m ready to tell her I’ve waited long enough, she speaks softly. “I’m scared it’s going to be just like how it was before.”
She’ll never know how much it fucking kills me to hear her say that. Every day since she’s left, I’ve coveted what we had.
“I don’t want to be some weak girl hanging on the arm of a man who’s perfectly fine if she walks away,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I don’t want to fight, Madox.”
“We don’t have any reason to fight. I’m just taking you to dinner.” I feel my throat tighten as I swallow, and the old man from earlier leaves with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand, making the bells jangle again. He steals her attention from me, but when I get it back, she offers me a kind smile.
“I don’t remember you being this … persistent.”
“You don’t know everything about me, Sophie.”
She doesn’t know how I kept tabs on her when I found out she’d run away. She doesn’t know what I thought of her that very first night she slept in my clothes, in my house, either.
“Meet me tonight.” Although I’ve given her an order rather than a request, I’m not sure that she will. Her movements pause, halting the hoodie midair before she slips it on and then nods.
“I’ll meet you.” Her expression turns soft as she tells me quietly, “I was dreading seeing you, you know?” She shakes her head as if in disbelief then adds, “But somehow I knew I wouldn’t be able to set foot in this city without running into you.”
I don’t know what she expects for me to say in response, so instead I give her the address to the restaurant.
She offers me a kiss on the cheek before she leaves, bells chiming as I watch her walk away, thinking about that first night I met her, the night I saved her, and how everything shifted the first moment I saw Sophie Miller.
She may have dreaded seeing me last night, not to mention countless times when we were off and on over the years. But there isn’t a damn thing I ever dreaded when it came to her. Since the moment I saw her, it’s always been her.
“Is she homeless?” Ryan asked me from the front seat of Cody’s Mercedes. He asked the question from between tightly clenched teeth, but she heard him anyway, stiffening beside me in the back seat. She was so beautiful. So innocent and naïve, but full of passion and fire. I could see it the way she stared up at me. Her vulnerability though, her trusting me, it called to me like nothing had before.
Cody rolled down the windows, letting in the night air as we drove back to our place by the park. It was a smaller place, one owned by Cody’s parents, and we used it as our party pad. Brett had stayed back to play video games, but he was the only one there. She’d be safe there; we could keep her safe. I could keep her safe.
“I left my parents’ house… my car, fuck…” the small girl trailed off and whirled around to look out the back window. “My car is back there, just--”
“It can wait,” I said, cutting her off. She’s already freaked out once, but she listens to me. She trusts me.
“I don’t want to go home.” Her words shook like her shoulders did, and when Cody looked back at her, she scooted closer to me. She did that all night, clinging to me like I was her savior whenever anyone looked at her. No one had ever looked at me like that.
She needed a shower, clean clothes and someone to look after her. At least until she stopped shaking.
“Should we call the cops?” Ryan asked, peeking back at me in the rearview mirror.
I shook my head, feeling the familiar anger rise inside. I didn’t need the police involved. I already knew what I was going to do. The anger would have taken over, like it used to ever since what happened with my father, but in that second, her side touched mine. She leaned against me, soft and warm and wanting to be held.
She wanted me to hold her.
She needed me to.
It should anger me that I crave that moment back. She was anything but okay, and I have no right to want to go back there when she was in so much pain.
But no one has ever needed me like she did then.
It took hours before she agreed to sleep in my room at the house. I told her I wasn’t letting her sleep in her car, and I thought she’d fight back, but she was too tired. I could see it in her eyes.
I locked the bedroom door before closing it shut … I locked it because I didn’t trust myself to leave her alone that night. I wanted to sleep beside her, to ask her every question that popped in my head.
I wanted to kiss her more than anything. She was younger than me, she was vulnerable and it was wrong. It was fucked up that I craved her like I did. But worse than that, I felt deep inside that she’d kiss me back. She’d do whatever I asked that night, and I didn’t trust myself not to ask for more than she could give.
I’d never been attracted to anyone like I’m drawn to Sophie. I want to take every bit of her, and that’s exactly what I did. Every single piece of her was mine.
She’s used to fighting; her mother made sure of that.
When I didn’t fight back, she left me.
When I did fight back, she left me.
I know how to hold her when she needs me to, and back then, she needed my touch often. I have no fucking idea how to hold on to her though when she doesn’t want it, but I’m not going to b
ack down. I did once, and it left me desolate for three years, waiting for her to come back.
I know she wants me the way I want her. That’s the only thing that matters, and I’ll prove it. I’ll make it right between us.
I refuse to let her go ever again.
Chapter 8
Sophie
The Fool is not what it may appear. It’s the card of new beginnings and trust in life. Although it comes with caution, with challenges and setbacks waiting in the wings, that’s what makes the Fool. That small bit of happiness is only because what’s to come is being willfully ignored.
Okay, so I got drunk and slept with Madox.
And maybe it was more than sex.
And maybe I’m having a hard time pretending like I don’t still have feelings for him even if it’s not the same to him. And yes, I know we’ll never be able to be together because we simply aren’t on equal footing. He’s so much more than I will ever be.
So should I have slept with him last night… no.
If I took a poll, I’m sure half of Manhattan would raise their hand and say they’ve done the same damn thing or something like it. Well, not with Madox, but with their exes or former lovers. It happens.
I was only tipsy, but I’m going to blame it on Ryan and the shot he bought me. I’m going to kick him in the dick the next time I see him too, for leaving me alone with Madox the second he could.
He knew what he was doing.
My phone buzzes with yet another message from my nosy bestie who could have given me a heads-up about last night. She had to have known they’d be there, although she keeps telling me she had no idea.
So then what? Trisha’s text makes me roll my eyes. I only told her I ran into Ryan and Madox last night. She didn’t ask about her brother, so something tells me she already knew.
Cards of Love: Three of Swords Page 5