Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
ALISON
“ L ily, Rum, please. The good stuff.” I motioned to the hidden bottle of Havana Club Máximo as I leaned over the counter of the central bar at Dea Tacita, nails tapping on the surface.
My brothers smuggled those bottles into the country. The Cuban embargo was nothing but a small bump in the road for them. Still, it was my poison of preference, and I had shit to bury under that sheer glass of liquor – I was giving my brain a break, not my taste buds.
“Make it two. The lady’s is on me,” A sharp voice to my left said just above the deafening beat of the club’s speakers.
“Lily, make it a bottle then. I’m sure the gentleman won’t mind the four thousand dollar tab.” I smiled a revengeful smirk back at the man standing beside me. His eyes flew wide open, the dry gulp making his Adam’s apple bob, but his manly ego prevented him from righting his mistake. “Just as I thought. I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.”
“I was just trying to be friendly.”
“No, you were trying to get laid. ”
“You can’t blame me. With looks like that, it’s hard not to. Is it working, Doll?” Apparently, my hint was too subtle for thick heads to register.
“Not even slightly.” I kept my gaze on the mirrored shelves filled with liquor bottles. I could see the sleazeball’s face between them. Defeat had still not hit his features, but he thankfully kept his distance.
“Alison?” Lily asked as she placed my drink in front of me, an unelaborated question, but I knew exactly what she meant.
“I’m fine, I can handle him. No need to alert the cavalry.”
“Come on, Sweetcheeks. Let’s have some fun,” He said, grabbing my wrist as I reached for the glass.
“I’m not interested,” I bluntly replied, yanking my arm from his grasp. I didn’t come to nurse male egos. I came to numb my own.
He scooted closer, his hand quickly gliding across the small of my back before he roughly grabbed my ass and pulled me flush against his sweaty body, my jaw tightly trapped in his other hand. He smelled like cheap vodka and ill intentions. Ones I didn’t care to think about.
“You should have thought about that before wearing that dick-teasing dress,” He said before licking my cheek. He was strong, hurting me with his nails almost boring into my skin, but he also had no idea how much of a bad move he had just made.
Before I could speak or move, I was suddenly free. The man squirmed in pain on his way down to his knees, his disgusting hands no longer touching me. I could hear his pained screams above the deep bass and strident sopranos.
“Take your fucking hands off of her before I cut them off of you.” Max was bending his middle finger so far back that I was sure it was already broken.
As soon as the guy’s knee hit the ground, Max wrapped his strong hand around his neck, slowly squeezing the life out of him. I saw his face pale and his eyes dying before me.
My eyes shot up at Max’s face, and there was nothing but pure murder written all over it. His jaw was clamped tight, his nose flaring wide.The blue in his eyes had practically vanished, his pupils so dilated with rage that they were now as dark as night.
If I don’t do anything, he’ll snap his neck right here!
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing forearms with thick protruding veins running down to his hands, muscles flexed as he compressed this guy’s windpipe in a steady squeeze.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max like this before. He could kill the poor bastard right here in the middle of the club and not miss a beat.
“Max!” I called out, placing my hand on his bicep, but he didn’t even register my voice. I stood on my tiptoes, reaching to his ear, my fingers knotting in his hair at the nape of his neck. “Max, don’t... Take me upstairs. Please?”
By now, I knew the trick. I’d never forgotten, in all honesty. Please.
He looked at me, releasing the man who fell to the ground, spread wide on the floor. He laced his arm around me protectively and pulled me towards the stairs that led to Matt’s office and the VIP area.
“Lily, the bottle,” I yelled to her, stretching over Max’s arm to grab it. I was going to need some water to put out this fire.
When I turned back, the man was already being dragged away towards a side door by my brother’s men, Max’s eyes following them until they disappeared.
“Jimmy,” He grunted, “Keep him warm for me, will you? I’ll be there soon.”
Fuck, this was not my intention when I came here. Now I had to calm Max down or have that shitbag’s death on my conscience.
“Max, please. He didn’t know.”
“No means fucking no, Alison. He knew enough.”
“He learned his lesson, you don’t have to…”
“Mercy isn’t a quality I possess. Life shows us none, why should I not return the favor?” I couldn’t help but shiver at his tone and words, but it wasn’t fear. It was a strange exhilaration that I didn’t dare to dig into to understand.
We walked side by side with just the club’s soundtrack, Max’s body shielding mine from all the dancing people obliviously crossing our path.
It was like I was in a protective bubble of muscle, hidden under a black shirt and a now two-piece Tom Ford that fit him like sin on the devil, his jacket hanging on his finger over his shoulder.
My brother must pay well. Those suits don’t come for half a dime.
We made it to Matt’s office, the slight smell of his cigarettes still lingering in the air. Max closed the door behind us, trying to tame his beast as he paced from side to side while I placed the bottle of Havana Club Máximo rum on the center table in front of the couches that oversaw the dance floor of Dea Tacita.
The name of the club alone was making me shiver as that bastard’s fate swam back into my mind.
Goddess of the Dead.
How was I supposed to disarm this bomb? Max was a man possessed, pacing the wooden floors like a furious predator who had just lost his prey. He was seething.
I walked up to him, making him stop his pacing rant as I placed my hands on his burning cheeks, trying to look deep into his still midnight eyes, but he averted my gaze.
“Don’t ever look away from me.” I echoed the same words he had said to me a couple of days ago. Like a sharp weapon, they pierced him, his eyes quickly returning back to mine. “I’m here. Everything is okay. I’m okay.”
Max held my gaze this time, his hand brushing lightly against my jaw, searching my skin for any evidence of that bastard’s assault.
Some sick and twisted part of me was enjoying seeing him so bothered by what had happened. The part that read his reaction as something only deep feelings could trigger. None of my brother’s men would have let anything happen, but being so distressed about it was a whole different story. But I shouldn’t. This was not what I had set my mind on doing, on feeling.
“Come, I brought something to calm us down.” I took his hand in mine and pulled him along with me towards the couches.
His forehead was still crinkled in anger while his eyes stared blankly into infinity. I didn’t know what to say to break him from the inferno in his mind, so I blurted the first thing that came to mine.
“Tom Ford, huh?”
“What?”
“Your suit. It’s a Tom Ford.” He looked at me with a questioning expression, a strange moment for such a trivial theme, but at least it seemed like I had distracted him. “It’s my dad’s favorite. I grew up seeing them around the house. A little expensive to be ruining with– ”
“Bullet holes?” He cut me off. “At least I’d die in style.” He sarcastically chuckled.
“That’s not even remotely funny, Max.” I admonished him. The image alone was enough to unsettle me.
“So, now you know why I’m not smiling after that fucker just assaulted you.” His grim face was back and darker than before.
“Well, but you were there to keep me safe. Thank you.” I wanted to bite back, but I decided the high road of diplomacy would suit me better tonight.
I poured some of the rum into the only glass Matt had in his office tonight, taking a sip before handing it to Max, waiting for him to take it.
“You’ve had your tongue down my throat. I didn’t think sharing a drink would gross you out.” I teased him when he hesitated. Was I digging a hole I couldn’t pull myself out of? Most probably. “Besides, my nonna always said that sharing a cup with someone was a way to uncover their secrets.” I smiled, nudging the tumbler towards him again.
Max took it from my hand, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, still wearily looking at me. He knew I was trying to distract him from the poor son of a bitch waiting for him in some dark alley or moldy warehouse.
“You don’t want my secrets, Alison.” He was right. I wanted a lot more than that. I wanted his honesty.
“I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“It’s the consequences you can’t take, and I will not expose you to them.”
“Always so full of riddles… When are you going to tell me something about yourself?”
“You just saw me, the real me.” His voice was higher than before, charged like a loaded gun .
“I did. I saw you saving me, freeing me from that man’s dirty claws.”
“I’m a real fucking gentleman dressed in fancy suits. That’s what you see. Part of a fucked up romantic illusion. I’m a gentleman, Alison, just not a gentle man .” He paused, downing the rest of the drink and filling it back up.
“Some prefer their gentlemen not to be gentle,” I whispered, mostly to myself, but by the way Max swung his head back towards me, I knew he had heard me.
“I would have snapped his neck right there if you hadn’t stopped me, and I’d still sleep like a baby tonight. No remorse at all.”
I took the rum from his hand, replicating his gesture – drinking the whole thing before refilling it.
“Would you have had the same reaction if it were someone else?” Should I really be asking that? Fuck it, I’m blaming it on the booze.
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
“Of course. I’m your boss’s baby sister, it’s your job,” I hissed, leaning back into the couch, watching as he shut his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath. “You could have just escorted him out, no need for such a show.”
“You want a secret? I’ll tell you one. I would have done the same to Jackson right on your doorstep the other day if I could. Happy?”
“What consequences of that secret can’t I handle?”
“Will you stop seeing him now that I told you? Now that you’ve seen that in the right state of mind, I could and would do it? Would you stay away from me?”
“To what end?” To which of his questions I was directing mine, I didn’t know.
“Self fucking preservation, Alison!” He took the glass from me, and like the new ritual we had begun, he drained the liquid before filling it back up. “Your turn.”
“I thought you knew me better, Maxy Max. I’m incautious, when have I ever weighed consequences before my actions? I came dancing in five-inch heels, self-preservation stayed in the closet.” Max laughed, his bright white smile hitting me exactly where it shouldn’t. “Why would I even consider keeping my distance?” From him? From Jackson? The latter wasn’t quite worrying me at the moment.
I should keep my distance from Max, though. I shouldn’t even be pulling at this thread right now. But damn was it tempting. This little conversation had a fire starting in my stomach, my heart beating faster at every new intrusion.
I drank the rum he had poured, keeping up our drink-and-serve momentum. He stared at me for a second before getting up and walking towards my brother’s desk, pressing a button on a display pad. A soft, slow tune filled the silent office as Max returned.
Once again, the glass was empty. Max’s turn to desecrate such a fine poison in one single swig before reloading it for me.
“If the lady came to dance, then we shall dance.” He held his hand out to me, pulling me up and away from the couch once my hand was set in his.
“Deflecting, Max?”
“If it’s working, yes.” He crushed me to his hard chest, knocking the words right from my mouth, starting a slow dance and a new fire. “Wait.” He stopped, kneeling in front of me.
He looked up, his hand now brushing down my calf before lifting my leg and taking one of my shoes off.
A knight in shining armor, saving me from fashion torture .
I held onto his shoulder, balancing on one foot and a thin line of deviance.
There was something sensually perverted about seeing him on his knees, his hands gently touching my legs.
After the second shoe was off, Max’s hand slid up my leg as he stood, breaking connection as he reached the back of my thigh, the hem of my dress acting like a roadblock he just had to respect.
He pulled me back into him, my whole body feeling the length of his. His thigh fit perfectly between my legs, but the pressure was purposefully too light.
“Better?”
“Much,” I whispered, gently leaning against his chest.
I inhaled deeply, his warm, woodsy scent now accentuated with the aroma of lavish rum. The same as the taste that lingered on my tongue. How much better would it taste on his?
Yup, self-preservation had flown out the fucking window under the warmth of his touch.
I knew he was distracting me from the dangerous direction our conversation had taken as much as I had been distracting him from carrying out a death sentence tonight. But I was maybe getting more out of this now than I would have by nose-diving down that rabbit hole.
Encased in his arms, I could deal with any consequences life could throw me. Forever could have passed in a second here, and I wouldn’t even notice.
It wasn’t strange to me how comfortable and safe he made me feel, but my wary brain kept flashing a red flag I much wanted to ignore. The same red flag he shredded to pieces with each one of his soothing strokes on the bare skin of my back as we swayed to the music.
He was gentle, he was just blinded to his own colors by blood and duty. My hazy vision, blurred as it was, saw him in a much clearer light than he ever had.
He pulled back, making me swirl and turn, spinning me on my feet as much as he had been spinning my world for the past couple of months.
Could I admit to that?
I hadn’t, the rum had.
Max had a peaceful and content smile on his lips, before pulling me back into a cage I wouldn’t mind being trapped in.
I was in peace and at war, calm and nervous, expectant but living in this unique moment.
I sunk my nose into the crook of his neck, Max’s chin resting against my forehead, one hand holding mine while the other rested respectfully on my back, dancing to the soft music. I had my eyes closed for most of it, my mind running a thousand miles per hour while my feet barely left the ground.
“This was how we met.”
“You remember that?”
“As if I could ever forget.” He confessed, soon correcting the slip, “I mean, dangling over your own death sentence leaves a pretty deep mark.”
“Yeah, of course.” I acknowledged, pushing out a fake smile.
Unlike that night, this was all innocent. Unsullied, until I looked up into his pools of infinite blue and caught him in that small concealing lie. Right there, in that split second, everything changed. The air was now charged with a magnetic pull, my eyes flicking from his irises to his lips and back.
I wanted him to kiss me. I desperately wanted him to kiss me.
Max bent further down, burying his face in my hair, inhaling me until his lungs couldn’t take anymore, the hand on my back gripping the fabric of my dress like an iron clasp. He held me closer to him in a hug so tight it squeezed my soul. As if he was grabbing me so that I wouldn’t run.
But instead, with a lingering kiss on my forehead and a whispered murmur, he set me free.
He stood there staring at me for a moment, a step too far for my comfort. An almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes before turning around to grab his suit jacket from the couch, heading to the door.
“Come, I’ll take you home.”
“No. Stop.” I wasn’t taking any more of his bullshit. “Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away again when that kiss in my kitchen showed me you want me just as much as I want you?”
“You want me, Alison? Huh? You want a murderer?” Max’s voice was as cold as ice. Something inside him shifted again.
“You’re not a murderer.”
“Yes, I fucking am, Princess . It’s time you get your dose of reality.”