Rapture & Ruin by Julia Sykes

Chapter 13

Allie

He was waiting for me when I stepped out of the cab: a dark shadow lurking on my front porch. My stomach flipped, but I resolutely walked toward him.

I am strong. I am independent. I can do this.

I had to see this through, for his sake. I no longer believed he was a threat to my dad; there was no conspiracy for him to uncover. But if he continued stalking my family, he would eventually be caught.

I remembered his sister’s cruel taunts. I didn’t know exactly what he’d been through, but Max had suffered enough. The pain he must’ve experienced when he was branded with that awful scar must have been excruciating. And now he would forever carry the mark of that pain, unable to hide the severity of his trauma, no matter how much he might want to.

I didn’t know much about Max, but my few intense encounters with him suggested that he abhorred weakness. He’d scorned my pity, and he’d been at his most unstable when I betrayed a hint of sympathy.

Max had been beautiful once. Now he believed he was a monster. And I suspected that for all his warnings about dangerous men in organized crime, his monster lived on the surface of his skin, not in his soul.

I squared my shoulders, resolute. As I approached, Max straightened from his casual pose where he’d been leaning against my front door. He moved closer to the streetlight, so the illumination caught on his sharp cheekbones and jaw. That skull-like mask had terrified me in the basement. Now, I knew what lurked underneath: a damaged man who preferred to hide in shadow rather than expose the mark of his pain to the world. He’d rather frighten people away than let them get close enough to see his scarred face.

But I’d been close enough. Not only had I seen the scar on his flesh, but I’d watched his awful sister inflict deep wounds with her cutting remarks. How many times had she slashed him with her sharp tongue? Max had said that she’d served as his legal guardian for five years. His mother had been dead and his father imprisoned. My heart ached to think about an abandoned, tormented teenage Max living in that grand house with rot at its core.

Had he been scarred even then? How long had she been tearing into him with that particular emotional lash?

He must love his father very much to put himself at such risk to defend his family from the false threat posed by my dad.

I lifted my chin and joined him on the stoop, meeting him squarely in the eye. The streetlight flashed over the black pools, tiny pinpoints of light in a sea of darkness.

“Sorry if I scared you.” His voice was a deep, soothing rumble, as though he was speaking to a spooked doe.

I’d thought Bambi was a derisive nickname, but maybe there was more to it. I still believed that he was keeping an emotional barrier between us, but he’d also protected me. He’d saved me from being hit by that car and insisted on seeing me safely to my door. Even though his actions tonight had been deranged, he’d thought he was defending me.

We needed to sort this out right now.

“You didn’t scare me,” I replied honestly. “I’m scared for you.”

He drew back ever so slightly, as though I’d shoved the brick wall of his hard chest. “Nikolai Ivanov doesn’t scare me.” It was a rough growl.

I blew out a sigh. “Yeah, I kind of got that from how you were snarling at him.” I gestured to the concrete step in front of my house. “Can we talk?”

He lifted a brow in challenge. “Don’t want me to come inside?” The sneer that tilted his lips let me know that he fully understood why I didn’t want him in my sanctuary: the last time he’d been in my home, he’d drugged and kidnapped me.

I fixed him with a cool stare and sat down on the step, waiting for him to join me.

He let out a sigh of his own and settled down beside me, his big body moving with predatory grace. Suddenly, an image of a panther slid through my mind: sleek and powerful, with sharp teeth that could tear apart anyone who threatened him.

The beast was a rest now, his shoulders relaxing. A shiver raced over my skin, and he frowned.

Before I could formulate my first argument against his continued vendetta, he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested, even as I was enveloped by the warmth of his residual body heat. Unlike Niko’s tux, Max’s jacket didn’t smell like expensive cologne. The earthy scent of the leather mingled with something deeper that was purely masculine and uniquely Max.

“I do if you insist on sitting outside,” he retorted. “That dress sure as hell won’t keep you warm.”

My blush descended all the way down my chest, further heating my skin. It suddenly felt far too revealing, and I wrapped Max’s jacket more tightly around me to hide the redness that colored my pale skin. I didn’t want my body to betray the fact that he’d elicited such a strong reaction with his single, incisive remark.

He shifted again, reaching for something behind him. He pulled out a brown paper bag that had the distinct shape of a wine bottle.

“Here.” He handed it to me, but I didn’t take it right away.

“What’s this?”

He rolled his eyes at me in that infuriating way. “It’s wine.”

Irritation prickled my spine. “Yeah, I can see that. Why do you have wine?”

He shrugged. “I thought I scared you back there. I figured I’d bring it as an apology. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” I promised, reaching for the bottle.

Before I could take it from him, his long fingers deftly unscrewed the cap with a definitive clicking noise.

“There. Now you know it’s not poisoned.” One corner of his lips twitched, and the light danced over his eyes.

“That’s not funny,” I retorted, waiting for the shudder of residual fear at his reference to my time in his basement. But the signs of terror didn’t come. All I felt was that hot, prickling irritation, and before I could think better of it, I snatched the bottle and took a swig of the wine in an act of defiance.

You don’t scare me.

The heated needling sensation melted into a flood of warmth at the rich flavor of the pinot noir. It was smooth, fruity, and comforting. Not as nice as my favorite vintage that I kept in my wine rack, but close enough.

I lowered the bottle and briefly unsheathed it from the paper bag to inspect the label. My tastebuds had been right: pinot noir.

“How did you know I like pinot?”

His expression went carefully blank, and he shrugged again. “Educated guess.”

Oh. He’d been in my apartment. He’d probably gone through my things, looking for nonexistent evidence to use against my father.

The shudder of revulsion finally rolled through my body. I hated that he’d violated the privacy of my home, the place where I was supposed to find strength and independence.

He snagged the bottle from my hand, lifted it to his lips, and took a long gulp. His throat worked as he swallowed, drinking way too fast.

“Hey.” I placed my fingers on his wrist to direct the bottle away from his mouth. “Don’t get drunk. I need to talk to you.”

He lowered the wine with a grimace. “This isn’t nearly strong enough to make me drunk.”

I snatched the wine from him, moving it safely away from his grasp. I set it on the step on my opposite side, ensuring it wasn’t within easy reach. I needed him to focus.

“About tonight,” I began, settling back into calm purpose. “You can’t keep stalking my dad like this. I know I said it didn’t matter to me, but it does. You’re going to get caught. Especially if you do something as stupid as attacking Mikhail Ivanov’s son in plain view of event security. If my father had already been outside, he would’ve gone ballistic.”

Max’s jaw tightened, taking on the harsh line I was starting to recognize all too well: he was pissed that I’d supposedly put myself in danger. “But he wasn’t outside, was he, Bambi? You were standing there with the son of a Russian oligarch, with no regard for your safety. Nikolai is dangerous. You shouldn’t be anywhere near him.”

“That’s funny,” I said coolly. “He said the same thing about you.”

“Of course he did,” Max bit back. “That’s because I am dangerous. You just don’t want to believe it.”

The hot prickling of my annoyance spread from my spine all the way to my fingers and toes. His matching irritation rolled off him and collided with mine. Sparks pinged over my skin, making every inch of my body come alive.

“Yes, I get it. You’re so menacing and brooding.” I gave him an eye roll of my own. “You would’ve torn Niko apart. That doesn’t mean you pose a threat to me. I understand that now.”

“Niko?” His voice deepened to something dark and rough. “You’re close with that monster?”

I scoffed. “He’s just a man, Max. An obscenely wealthy but normal man. And no, we’re not close. I only met him tonight.” Something clicked into place in my mind. “Wait, you hate him because he’s Russian? Is that what this is about? Your prejudice?”

“It’s not prejudice,” he growled. “You just don’t want to know the truth. And I don’t want you to know it, either. I told you not to keep digging into your father’s case against my family, and I meant it. Why was Niko getting close to you tonight? Does his family know about your little investigation?”

My cheeks flamed with something indefinable. Anger? Embarrassment?

“He was asking me out before you came and shoved him away,” I retorted. “Is that so hard to believe? That he’s interested in me like a normal guy is interested in a girl? This isn’t some conspiracy, Max.”

“Of course it’s not hard to believe,” he snapped back, as though I’d offended him somehow. “You’re beautiful and intelligent, and your father is the mayor of New York. That’s why it’s so convenient for his father to task him with keeping an eye on you.”

I shook my head in disbelief, momentarily struck dumb by the depth of his delusion.

“Do they know about your investigation or not?” he barreled on, every bit the charging, rage-blinded bull.

“No, they don’t.” I struggled to keep the lie from my tone. Mike had boasted about my interest in the Five Families case in front of Mikhail, but that had to be pure coincidence. If I admitted it to Max, it would just reinforce his insane beliefs.

His dark eyes narrowed. “You’d better hope they don’t. Stay away from Nikolai Ivanov.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” I declared, indignant. How dare he tell me who I could and couldn’t date?

He leaned toward me, imposing the full weight of his menace. His sensual lips thinned as he hissed a warning, “I can, and I will. You don’t want to believe there are monsters around you, even when they’re in plain view. Nikolai might look pretty, but he’s every bit as monstrous as I am.”

I pushed into the heat of his anger, my burning frustration mingling with his. “Well, guess what, Max? I don’t think you’re a monster at all. I think—”

“Stop talking, Bambi.” The low command was hot against my lips, his barely contained rage and pain teasing over my skin in a tingling wave.

“I told you not to call me Bambi,” I hissed right back. “You can’t tell me who to date, and you can’t tell me what to believe. You might not like it, but I’ve seen you, Max. You’re not a monster. You’re—”

My tirade was smothered when his mouth clashed with mine. For a moment, I froze, stunned by his heat and raw ferocity. The low growl that made my belly quiver rumbled against my lips, hungry rather than enraged.

Shocked, I sucked in a gasp, and his lips molded to mine. The heat of my frustration turned molten, rolling down my spine like warm honey. My hands lifted to his chest, but when I touched the hard, rippling wall of muscle, I didn’t push him away. My fingers twined in his shirt, clinging on to him for support as my head began to spin.

The kiss was feverish and rough, our battle of wills descending into something purely primal and fierce. His tongue, which had issued so many sharp retorts and scathing rebukes, surged into my mouth, seeking to tame mine. I met him with ferocity of my own, refusing to give him an inch.

My mind went hazy, anger morphing into raw aggression I’d never felt before. It had a ragged edge of need and hunger that drove me to a frenzy. One of his huge hands cupped my nape, his fingers sliding into my hair to trap me in place. He deepened the kiss, seeking control.

Suddenly, my fingernails were biting into his corded arms, and my teeth nipped at his sensual lips. He let out a purely masculine sound that rumbled straight through me to quiver in my core. Something pulsed inside me, and my need turned into a greedy craving for more. I’d lost track of where I was, who I was. My senses were entirely consumed by the feel of his tongue against mine, his salt-kissed leather scent, and the low, hungry sounds we exchanged on each ragged breath we shared.

Keeping one hand in my hair, his strong arm was an iron band around the small of my back, pulling me closer and caging me. The heat that pulsed deep inside me surged, and I melted against him. Whatever wild, primal thing inside me that had driven me to this fierce madness finally surrendered to his strength and masculine will. Giddiness fizzed through my veins, crackling through my body. I allowed myself to drown in it, becoming drunk on the heady rush of his ruthless kiss. I opened for him, allowing him to claim me more deeply.

He groaned against me, taking everything I offered and demanding more. My head spun, and my fingers tingled where they curled into his flexing muscles. Finally, he pulled back, allowing me to breathe. I swayed toward him, not ready to end this thrilling madness that we shared. I didn’t want to think; all I wanted was to feel his mouth on mine, his strength locking me exactly where he desired.

His fingers tightened in my hair, and little sparks of awareness danced over my scalp as he restrained me from demanding more. His forehead rested on mine, our lips so close that the pulsing inside me intensified to an aching throb.

“Allie…” He rasped my name, and I shivered at the feel of it sliding over my skin in a hot wave of need.

I leaned into him as much as his grip on my hair would allow, and my brow brushed over his. The odd sensation of his too-smooth, scarred skin barely registered; I wanted his mouth on mine again, and I didn’t care about his scar. Thinking about the mark of his pain made my heart clench, and my hands left his arms to clutch his shoulders. I might as well have tried to pull a granite statue closer.

As soon as his ruined brow touched mine, he stiffened in my hold. After a heartbeat of stony stillness, he recoiled from me as though I’d burned him. His strong arms released me, and he wrenched himself from my much weaker grasp as he surged to his feet.

I swayed, shaky in the wake of our intense kiss and his abrupt withdrawal. One big hand closed over my shoulder, steadying me for a moment. He jerked away almost immediately, reeling back and crossing his arms over his chest. I stared up at him, my jaw slack with shock.

He towered over me, a dark shadow. Every muscle in his massive body seemed to have locked up, and his face was twisted in a horrific scowl. He glowered at me, and white flames flickered over his black eyes.

“Max?” My voice was small, and he flinched at the sound of his name on my tongue.

“Go inside,” he bit out.

I blinked rapidly, struggling to get my brain to work in the aftermath of his decimating kiss. “But—”

“Now,” he snapped.

I wasn’t sure what I intended to protest, but the whip of his command jolted me to my feet. His jacket slid off my shoulders, and he caught if before it hit the ground. I fumbled for my keys in my clutch, and I braced one hand on my door to steady myself. Max didn’t offer me support this time.

My stomach dropped to the pavement, and I didn’t understand why. The giddiness that’d flooded me sparked into jitters, leaving my fingers trembling and my mind an addled mess. For some reason, my lungs tightened, and my eyes stung. The molten honey that’d pooled in my belly soured, making my insides squirm.

Max’s dark presence at my back teased over my skin like a physical touch, drawing a shudder from my chest. I couldn’t bear to look at him. My neck locked up tight, refusing to turn and face him. All the hot defiance that’d driven me to a frenzy cooled to an icy chill, and my flesh pebbled.

My key finally turned the lock, and I bolted into the sanctuary of my home. Automatically, I slid the deadbolt into place behind me before lurching forward. I moved through my foyer and into my living room as though drunk, stumbling slightly as I kicked off my high heels.

I glanced out the huge bay window, my eyes drawn as though by a magnet. My dark protector was gone. Max had melted into the shadows, disappearing into the night.