Psycho (The Line Walkers #2)

20. Chapter 20 – Maddox

Chapter 20 – Maddox

P ulling into the parking garage at nearly six in the morning after yet another long night of hunting, I ached for nothing more than Liv’s calming touch on my skin. I never craved another human being the way I craved Liv, it was visceral, and it was vital; I couldn’t go without it.

But as soon as I parked my truck, my internal alarms started screaming when Chris, my head guard, came out of the shadows in a rush.

Throwing my door open, I bolted from the truck and met him in the elevator corridor. “What is it?”

“She found T-bone in the hallway outside of her apartment.”

“Fuck!” I roared, slamming my fist into the button as the man rushed on.

“She gouged one of his eyes pretty bad. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s blind.”

I ignore anything else he had to say as I hit the button for the top floor of the building, panicking with each passing second of Liv being upset and scared from finding armed men in her space without me telling her first. As the elevator came to a stop, I could hear her screams before the doors even opened.

And as soon as they did, a ceramic mug flew at my head that I barely avoided before it smashed into the back of the elevator. “You son of a bitch!” Liv screamed at me with fire in her eyes blurred with tears. “You lied to me!” My vision was tinted red at the thought of her in nothing but a tight long sleeve shirt and booty shorts for my paid guards to enjoy the sight of.

I dodged another mug as she threw it out of our apartment door as three guards watched silently. Three men hired by me to protect her at all costs, who watched as she gave me a tongue lashing. “Leave us!” I bellowed, catching the next mug in the air as her red hair flashed through the opening, no doubt on her way for more ammo. “Now!”

With a hard shove, I crossed the threshold, grabbing her arm before she could land another blow. The door slammed shut behind me, a heavy, satisfying click sealing us inside, away from their prying eyes and ears. “You bastard!” A sharp screech tore through the air as she thrashed against my grip, her fist a blur before connecting painfully with my jaw. She gasped, a ragged breath hitching her chest, her fist trembling with a mix of fury and pain.

“Stop it!” I commanded and took both of her arms, crossing them over her chest and then turning her so her back was against my chest. I needed to calm her down, or she’d hurt more than just her hand. “Storm, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, you dick licker!” She screamed, fighting me anew. “You made me think I was crazy! Those fucking men have been lurking for weeks and I thought I belonged in a nuthouse, but it was all because of you!” Her voice was manic as she swung around, kicking and fighting me for every inch of space she could make, but she wouldn’t get away. “I thought I was going insane, and it’s all your fault!”

“Shh, Storm. Just calm down for a second and we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Her voice broke and then her teeth bit into my forearm, instantly breaking through the skin as she held nothing back in her attempt to gain her freedom from me. “I want to hurt you!”

“Then hurt me.” I growled as blood ran down my arm. Gently as I could, swept her legs and pulled her down onto my lap on the floor, twisting my legs over hers so she was sitting on her ass with me wrapped around her like a cobra. “Here.” I held my other arm out and her teeth sank into it just like the first when she realized she couldn’t move anything else to fight me with. When she broke through the skin, she spit my blood out and hissed in anger, but didn’t go back in for another bite. She huffed and I could feel her heart racing under my arm across her chest, but she remained silent finally. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t like those words would do any good, but they needed to be said.

“I’m angry.” She sneered and shook against my arms like she hoped I had loosened them up since she stopped fighting the last time. “Really fucking angry, Psycho.”

“I know.” I held my arm out and eyed the puncture wounds, “You have every right to be. But above all of that, you need to calm down for the sake of the baby.”

“Fuck you.” She hissed, but followed it up with a deep breath. A long stretch of silence came after that, and I let it linger as she obviously tried to collect herself. “Who are they?”

“Guards.” I replied honestly, “To protect you when I’m gone.”

“To keep me imprisoned, you mean.” Liv shook her head, “Let me go. I want to get off the floor.”

“No,” I kissed her temple, “But I will let go of your arms if you promise not to go for my eyes.”

She sneered under her breath, something that sounded a lot like fuck around and find out, but didn’t go right for my vitals when I loosened my hold on her wrists. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

“Because I knew it’d upset you.”

“And finding an armed militiaman in the hall wasn’t upsetting? I thought he was a hit man here to kill me! Kind of how I did when I saw one on the rooftop last week, Maddox. I deserve to know who’s existing around me!”

“Storm, I already told you that you were right. You won’t hear me counter your claims on it. But you need to lower your heart rate and relax so you don’t go into labor.”

“I’m fine. But I want to get off the floor.”

“Why is being off the floor so important to you?” I argued, annoyed with her repeated request when she wouldn’t do the first thing I asked of her.

“Because!” She fought anew, elbowing me in the chest and cried out when I recaptured her flailing limbs. “Because it reminds me of that fucking room!”

My mind raced to catch up to her, and when it did, my heart sank. “The storeroom.” The place I found Liv months ago, cold, beaten and unconscious, with nothing around her but the cold concrete floor.

“I want to get up!”

Getting onto my feet, I lifted her into my arms and off the cold floor, carrying her across the room to her favorite spot on the couch. As soon as she was within reach of it, Liv grabbed her prized blanket and covered herself from nose to toes, glaring at me over the hem.

I sat on the coffee table in front of her and slid my hands under the blanket to cover her bare, cold feet. She didn’t immediately kick my teeth in, so I tightened my hands on them and gentled my voice. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anger—” She snapped instantly but pursed her lips when I glared at her.

“We know you’re boiling with rage aimed in my direction, Storm. Tell me something I don’t know. Tell me about that room.”

She huffed and held my gaze before blinking and staring off at a spot on the wall as she whispered her trauma out loud, “There was no heat.” Shivers wracked her body like she could feel the cold even now. “The concrete floor had a way of making the cold seep into my bones until I didn’t think I’d ever warm up.”

“That’s why you’re always bundled up now.” I replied, feeling foolish for thinking it was simply a comfort thing. It was a trauma response, and I had triggered one with my lack of tact. “How long did Damon have you there?”

She shook her head sadly, “I don’t know. Days. Maybe a week. He pulled me out when it served him to, but I lost track of the time.” Her voice died off, and I knew what she meant. The only time he took her from the room was when he used her body for his pleasure.

“Do you know who his silent partner is?” I asked, breaking my vow not to involve her in Damon’s death. “He seems to be the missing link to finding Damon.”

She slowly shook her head, “As far as I know, he’s kind of a myth. I only ever heard whispers about him. Some good, very little bad.”

“What does that mean?”

Shrugging, she burrowed deeper into the blanket. “I never heard his name, which I think was Damon’s plan. But the girls made up a nickname for him.” She rolled her eyes, “They called him The Duke. Something about him being royal blood or something. Either way, they never had much in the way of bad things to say about him.”

“He used girls from the Velvet Cage? And they talked nicely about them?” That made no sense.

“I wasn’t privy to any actual information, but a few of the girls talked near me sometimes at the Hell Eaters Lounge before I was,” She swallowed, “Blacklisted. Rumors said he didn’t come to Boston often, once every few months, and when he came for a visit, he would always hire a girl for his stay. Usually a few days at a time.”

“Was that normal?”

“For girls to take multi-day jobs? No. Damon always said girls made more per night than they did multiple nights lumped into one. But I guess for his money man, he had no choice but to allow it. What was weird, though, was some girls lined up for the chance to spend a few days with him. And they always looked so—” She shrugged and grimaced, “refreshed when they got back. I don’t know if that’s the right word, but they sure looked better than they usually did after a job, especially one that lasted a few days. And he paid well. Very well.”

“Hmm.” I hummed, processing her info. “When was the last time he visited?”

“A few months before I got blown in,” She tilted her head to the side, “My guess is he would have been due for a visit right around the time shit hit the fan. Why? Do you think he’s coming back sometime soon or something?”

“I think our best chance of finding out who he is, or even getting hands on him, is here when he visits. But enough talking about all of that—”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” She sighed, “In the last two minutes, I’ve felt more useful than in the last two months, all combined. I need this, Madd. I need to be valuable.”

“I don’t want you in it, though.” I pleaded, begging her to understand my point, “The memories of what happened to you there aren’t worth reawakening just so we can have some inside knowledge. We’ll get it another way.”

Liv covered my hand with hers under the blanket and squeezed it. “Knowing that Damon Kirst is dead before I give birth to this baby will give me peace. If he’s still alive, I won’t be able to breathe. So let me help. Let me be involved in my revenge.”

She was right; I knew that. If Damon was still alive when our baby was born, she’d never relax. Liv needed that last piece of the puzzle put to rest before our baby was truly at risk.

“Fine.” I got on my knees at her feet, and she wrapped her legs around my back, sitting up closer to me. “If you think it’s what you need to do, then you can help.”

“No more secrets?” She confirmed, “No more armed men peeping through the windows from neighboring rooftops or lurking in the hallways?”

“No more secrets.” I agreed, “But the guards stay put. I won’t waiver on that.”

She rolled her eyes and slid to the edge of the couch. Instantly, I laid a kiss on her belly and sat back up. “I’m sorry I threw a mug at you.” A blush covered her face as she played with the whiskers in my beard. “And called you names. And bit you—twice.”

“Three mugs.” I corrected her, “And I didn’t know your mouth knew such filth.”

She chuckled lightly and wrapped her arms around my neck, meeting my stare. In a breathy, seductive voice, she cooed, “Oh, the filthy things I could do with this mouth for you, Psycho.”

I gazed down at her lush tits in her tight shirt and watched as her nipples pebbled up from just my eyes on them and licked my lips. “Had I known that letting you in would have this effect on you, I may have done it sooner.”

“Liar,” she giggled and pulled the hem of her shirt up, slowly revealing her body to me as she took it off, keeping the blanket around her shoulders. “But you can take me to bed and trick me into thinking so anyway.”