Rapture & Ruin by Julia Sykes
Chapter 20
Allie
Iwas cuddled up in Max’s lap on my couch, our kisses turning languid. After a long while, he pulled back and allowed us both to catch our breath. His dark eyes roved over my body, studying every inch of me as though it belonged to him.
His calloused fingertips brushed my wrist, and a scowl distorted his features. I followed the direction of his fiery gaze and noted the bruise where Gavin had grabbed me. I’d covered it with a gold cuff bracelet to hide it at the office, but now the mottled purple ring was clearly visible.
“I’m okay,” I said softly, even as my stomach turned at the memory of his cruel grip. “My skin just marks up easily.”
His black eyes snapped to mine, his white teeth flashing on a growl. “It’s not okay. I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”
I reached out and traced the sharp line of his tight jaw, my fingers tingling at the rough scrape of his stubble. His eyes closed for a moment, and his face relaxed. He leaned into the tender contact.
My heart squeezed. How long had he been denied this simple human touch?
A question about his accident was on the tip of my tongue, but one glance at the brief, serene expression on his face gave me pause. His hair was pushed back, his scar on full display. He seemed to have forgotten to hide it when our bodies were entwined. On some innate level, he was starting to believe he didn’t have to hide from me. He was starting to trust me.
I couldn’t bear to lose that.
“You did more than enough.” I reassured him instead of asking about his scar. “You should’ve seen Gavin today. He has two black eyes, and his arm is in a cast. He’s hurting for what he did to me.”
Max’s head canted to the side, and his dark gaze picked apart every nuance of my ferocious expression, noting the slightly cruel twist to my lips. “You seem happy that he’s in pain.”
I shrugged, but my shoulders tensed defensively, and I fiddled with my locket to alleviate the burst of anxiety. Vindictiveness was an ugly quality, but I couldn’t bring myself to suppress it. “Am I supposed to feel bad about it?” I challenged.
His features split in a breathtaking, wolfish grin. “No. I like it. He deserved far worse.”
I nodded, but I rubbed the smooth back of my locket for comfort. I wasn’t sure if I needed soothing because of the implication that I was a vindictive bitch or because I was still rattled by what Gavin had done.
Max’s eyes fixed on the necklace. “You don’t have to be anxious.” He nodded toward where my fingers worried at the warm gold. “I’ve noticed that you touch it when you’re stressed. I’ve never seen you without it,” he explained.
I blinked at him. His perceptiveness should’ve been slightly unnerving, but his intense focus on my every move made my stomach flip in a decidedly feminine response. Max made me nervous in all the right ways.
“It’s all I have left of my mother,” I admitted, sharing the information without thought. Max would never use it to hurt me. He’d protected me so many times. I could trust him.
“We lost everything in the fire,” I murmured. “I was wearing this when my dad carried me out of the burning house. It was my grandmother’s—her name was Alexandra, too. My mom was very close with her, and she wanted me to know that we shared the same tight bond. She gave it to me when I turned ten.” The picture of my mother and me that I kept safely locked inside was the only physical photo that existed from the time before the fire. Before we’d lost her.
For a moment, the flames filled my vision. My throat burned from my screams, and my father’s arms were iron bands around my chest.
“I didn’t go back for her,” I whispered. “I wanted to save her, but I didn’t.” The smoke seemed to choke my lungs, and my eyes stung.
Max curled two fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face to his so he could lock me in his intense black stare. I fell into the bottomless pools of his eyes, desperate to drown in them, to lose myself in him.
“There was nothing you could’ve done.” His voice was roughened by his own pain.
I sniffled and swiped at the tears on my cheeks. “Sorry.” I managed a watery apology. “I know you lost your mother too. It must have been hard for you.”
His jaw hardened to granite. I pressed my palm against his cheek. His teeth stopped grinding beneath my tender touch, and the angry mask fell away. His brow furrowed with the pain that he kept so deeply buried.
“You couldn’t have saved your mother,” he said. “You’re not responsible for her death.” What was meant to be a comforting statement came out in a gravelly rasp. “I can’t say the same. My mom died because I was too weak to save her.”
I brushed my thumb over his cheekbone, commanding his attention and grounding him to me. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I countered softly. “You would’ve been a child when she died, right? What could you have possibly done?”
His eyes blazed, but he didn’t pull away. “I watched them murder her,” he snarled. “The Russians brutalized her before they killed her, and I watched. I didn’t stop them.”
I forgot how to breathe. “Max…” His name was a tight exhalation, and my eyes burned hotter.
His blind hatred and prejudice against Niko suddenly made awful sense, and I understood his misguided vendetta against my father with terrible clarity. If his family had told him that my dad had colluded with the Bratva—the criminal organization responsible for murdering his mother right in front of him—it was no wonder that he loathed Ron Fitzgerald.
The weight of the realization crushed my heart, and the tears I shed were for him, for the agonized boy who’d endured unimaginable trauma and had blamed himself for over a decade.
“I was thirteen,” he seethed. “Old enough to take on a man’s responsibilities when it counted. I failed, and she died because of me.”
Oh, Max.
“You’re not responsible,” I whispered, echoing the words he’d said to me.
I’d never realized how bound we were by similar pain. We both harbored a deep self-loathing, carrying guilt like a boulder on our shoulders. But where I’d hidden behind false smiles, Max had constructed his mask of rage to contain the terrible truth that we both held at our core.
I wasn’t ready to let go of my guilt. I didn’t know how to exist without it. If I released the strength it took to endure the strain, I might shatter into a million pieces.
He probably felt the same. I wouldn’t push him to absolve himself, because I didn’t want to break him.
Wordlessly, I pressed my forehead to his. He flinched when I made contact with his scar, so I caressed the right side of his face, allowing my fingers to slide over the damaged flesh for the first time. I wound them into his unruly curls, anchoring him to me. His massive body shuddered, and he leaned into my touch.
“Allie…” My name was a soft, pained groan.
A knock on my front door shattered the moment like a lightning strike. Max jolted away from me, and he was halfway to the foyer before I could blink. Confusion slowed my reaction time.
Who would be knocking on my door at this time of night? It had to be past ten o’clock by now.
Max’s boots thundered over the tiles as he rushed to confront whoever was outside.
I surged to my feet and rushed after him, hastily buttoning my top. What if it was my dad? I couldn’t imagine why he would come over right now, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d randomly stopped by to check on me.
My stomach dropped to the floor. I couldn’t allow Max to see my dad. Especially not when he was so raw from his confession about witnessing his mother’s murder. I’d seen the damage his massive fists could do to someone’s face. If Max attacked my father, he would severely injure him.
I reached the foyer just as Max wrenched the door open. His low growl gave me pause, but I resolutely pressed forward.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.
His hostile tone made my stomach knot, and I skidded to a stop just behind him. His muscular frame filled my doorway, blocking me with his bulk. I peeked over his shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat.
Max’s sister stood on my front porch. The streetlight illuminated her sharp cheekbones, transforming her beautiful face into something savage and cruel. The physical similarities between her and Max had never been more apparent, with her harshly beautiful features and full lips twisted in a smirk. Her shark’s eyes danced with cruel delight as they fixed on me.
“Hello, princess.” Her white teeth flashed through the darkness, and her razor-sharp gaze cut back to Max. “Why didn’t you tell me that sweet little Allie is the mayor’s daughter?”
“Leave.” The word was a barely intelligible snarl, and Max’s big body practically vibrated with rage.
She lifted a slim shoulder in a casual shrug. “There’s no need to be rude. I’m happy to leave with you, little brother. Father wants to see us.”
All his muscles locked up tight. “Allie, go back inside.”
Francesca gave him an exaggerated pout. “Don’t be like that, Max. I’ll leave your precious princess alone.” She bared her shark-like smile at me. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
My insides squirmed, but I forced myself to meet her glittering gaze. “Max is here at my invitation,” I announced, lifting my chin in defiance. “You aren’t. Please leave.”
She turned her grin on Max. “Aw, she said please. So polite. Far too sweet for a brute like you. Come on, little brother. It’s time to go.”
Max’s muscles coiled tight, ready to unleash violence to protect me. “I’m not leaving her. You shouldn’t have come here, Francesca.”
Her head canted to the side, her eyes gleaming as she waved behind her. “But I’m not the only one who came to pick you up. Our dear cousins are here. They’ll drive us home, and we can all have a family meeting.”
A black sedan waited at the curb. I could barely make out two dark silhouettes in the front seats.
My heart slammed against my ribcage as reality crashed down on me. I’d been so intent on convincing Max that he didn’t scare me that I’d forgotten how frightening his relatives were. These people were mobsters. They’d committed the horrific, bloody crimes that’d given me nightmares during the week I’d spent poring over the Ferrara case files.
He was too young to have participated in those crimes. They weren’t.
And they were waiting outside my house. They knew where I lived.
“Fine,” Max ground out through gritted teeth. “I’ll come with you. Just leave her alone.”
“No!” I grabbed his forearm, desperate to keep him away from the monsters that waited for him in the dark. They might be his family, but they weren’t kind to him. He wasn’t safe with them. “Stay with me, Max.”
His muscles flexed beneath my fingers, as though my weak hold was an iron shackle binding him in place.
“Aw, she’s so cute,” Francesca said in that awful singsong voice. “I bet our cousins would think so, too. Should I introduce them?”
“No!” Max barked, angling his body in front of mine so that I was completely blocked from their view. “I’m coming with you. Allie, stay inside. Lock the door behind me.”
I couldn’t let him leave with those monsters. My fingernails sank into his skin. “Please, don’t go.”
He wrenched his arm free, and my nails scored bright red lines into his flesh. He rounded on me, eyes blazing. “I’m leaving, Bambi.” He spat the nickname in a warning tone.
He wanted me to know that I was putting myself in danger by confronting Francesca. The longer I kept him here, the worse things would get.
Francesca’s tinkling laugh needled the base of my skull. “You have pet names for each other? Adorable.”
He ignored her, focusing completely on me. His big hand cupped my cheek, his thick fingers sliding into my hair.
“I’ll come back,” he promised. “No matter what happens, I’ll come back to you.”
My heart tore open. What could possibly happen to him? What would his family do to him? They’d already inflicted mental torment by lying about my father’s involvement with the Bratva, the organization that’d brutalized and murdered his mother right before his eyes. His sister clearly wielded words as a weapon, but what about his cousins? What were they capable of?
Bloody images from the case files filled my mind, and my eyes burned. His sensual lips brushed over my cheek, catching the tear that spilled over.
“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured in my ear, a fierce oath.
I swallowed hard and nodded. I dreaded the prospect of him leaving with his awful family, but he was choosing to go with them. Based on his sister’s veiled threats, I believed he was protecting me. Max was strong, but I doubted he could take on the two men in the car and come out unscathed. If he went with them willingly, they wouldn’t have a reason to hurt him.
I hoped I wasn’t being naïve.
He’d told me so many times that I was naïve, and I’d bristled as though it was an insult. But faced with Francesca’s delighted taunts, I realized I was completely out of my depth. Max knew it, and he wanted me to stay out of it. I would only be a liability to him if I insisted on involving myself further.
“I’ll be waiting,” I promised on a fierce whisper.
I wouldn’t let Max go, no matter what. I cared about him too much to allow his family to take him from me. I had to trust that he could manage the situation without my interference.
He trusted me with his darkest secret. And I trusted him with my whole heart.
It fluttered in my chest at the realization. I’d never felt anything like this for any man. It was too soon, too wild, to call it love. But it was powerful and addictive enough that I never wanted it to end.
He pressed one last kiss to my forehead before pulling away with stilted, jerky movements, as though leaving me caused him physical pain.
“Lock the door,” he commanded. “Now.”
He kept his eyes on mine, refusing to leave until I was safely barricaded inside. I didn’t want to lose sight of him for even a second, but I didn’t have a choice. Max wouldn’t be able to handle his family unless he believed I was safe.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and shut the door between us, hiding him from my view. The heavy glide of the lock clicking into place slid between my ribs like a knife to the heart.
I rested my brow against the cool wood and listened to the heavy stomp of Max’s boots as he retreated with his awful sister. The car started up and drove off, carrying the man I’d come to crave far away from me.
My chest squeezed, growing tighter with each of my racing heartbeats. Waiting for Max to safely return would be agony.