Chapter 29
CASSIDY
“Cass, I’m so sorry.” He sounds gutted. What on earth is he so upset about?
“For what, exactly?”
“I was so lost in how much I wanted you, I wasn’t thinking. I let loose without considering…” His eyes flash over to my jaw.
“No,” I blurt. “You didn’t hurt me.” I can’t help my self-satisfied grin. “I’m grateful for how consumed you were.” My cheeks burn at the admission. “That you didn’t think to treat me differently. You didn’t treat me as if I was broken.”
He glances back at me with a look I’m struggling to understand. It’s a combination of relief and thankfulness.
“Besides,” I add, “it’s not like that with us.”
I don’t miss the way his brows pinch at my reference to his earlier statement. “Cass...”
“No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl.” I roll over, pulling my bra and sweater back into place.
“You were right. This is dangerous. For a number of reasons. Mainly if Gianni were to find out. I’m not in a place where I can risk losing my job.
I was warned when I was hired, relationships with members are strictly forbidden.
I’m still surprised Lala and Gianni even allow us to work together. ”
“Yeah,” he mutters into his palms. “To be honest, so am I.”
“And I live there.” I wring my hands, considering the possibility. “So if I lose my job, I also lose my home.”
Max’s head snaps up. “But you only work as a cocktail server, right?”
His question confuses me for a second. Until I put the pieces together. My eyes widen, horrified. “No, no. I’d never do that. I’ve never even seen the third or fourth floors, Max.” I have to admit, my curiosity has been tugging at me, wishing I could steal a sneak peek.
The instant relief washing over his features should be comforting.
I cross my arms over my chest. “But you’re a member of a private gentlemen’s club. I don’t understand why that would bother you?” I’m growing tired of repeating myself, of feeling defensive about working at DPG. Given he frequents there, he shouldn’t be judging me or anyone else.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he spits. “There’s no fighting the way I feel about you, Cassidy. I’ve tried. God, help me, I’ve tried. I’m not judging the lifestyle. I’ve seen it all. But the thought of you entertaining anyone like that… well, it’s more than I could handle.”
His admission brings a sense of reassurance.
That it isn’t only me who is developing feelings here.
And he’s right. This whole situation is fraught with risk.
Entertaining men on the upper floors while seeing him might’ve been one stone too many for anyone to carry.
“I guess that’s one reason Gianni doesn’t allow relationships with members. It blurs the lines.”
“Do you mind my asking? Why do you live there?” His voice is soft, careful, and full of concern. “I didn’t think Gianni had staff housing. Maybe at The Rox, but not here.”
Why does his question make me more nervous about his knowledge of the women at The Rox than divulging my personal trauma?
My limbs begin to shake. I don’t think I’ve ever actually considered that one day I’d be sharing my history with someone…
well, that I’m falling for. What if he rejects me once he hears?
It’s not like it would be the first time.
As if he can sense the distress I’m feeling, he scoots closer until he’s sitting beside me. “Cass, can I hold you? Please?”
How is this broody, dominant alpha male so cute right now? He looks nervous, sensing the vulnerability on my face.
“I can’t stand the distance anymore.” He lifts me onto his lap, tucking my head under his chin before stroking my hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he whispers. “I have no right to ask.”
“I’m just nervous. This isn’t something I share. With anyone.”
His arms grip me a little tighter. Then all of a sudden, I’m weightless as he flings his legs over the side of the bed and lifts me.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re taking a bath.”
“What?” I giggle.
“Don’t think I couldn’t tell how much you were dying to take a soak in the tub at the presidential suite. I could see the internal war. Well, my tub is even better.”
I don’t doubt that for a second.
“I’ll run a bath and leave if you’d like some privacy. But after what just happened between us, I’d like to take care of you. Prove I’m worthy of your secrets.”
Reaching over, I run my fingers over his scruff. “I’ve never bathed with a man before.”
“Really?” He’s beaming. Actually beaming at me.
I shake my head, biting my lower lip.
Max deposits me on the edge of his deep soaking tub. This thing actually does look like a small Olympic pool. He runs the water and pours some fragrant oil that smells like vanilla and lavender. He’s silent as he gathers two fluffy white towels and deposits them on the counter.
“Please don’t feel pressured. I’d love to join you, but I want you to relax and feel comfortable here.” Max gently brushes a stray strand of pink hair behind my ear.
“No. I’d like that.” I admit I’m nervous. This is more intimate than what went on in his bed. There’s no hiding behind pink hair, makeup, clothing, or shadows any longer.
Max reaches behind his head, pulling his shirt off. I swallow hard. My Criminal Minds fantasy has arrived. Next, go his suit pants. Jeez. This man is utter perfection, standing before me in the sexiest black boxer briefs I’ve ever seen.
Max reaches for the hem of my sweater. “Can I?”
I nod. There’s no going back after this.
He lifts my cream-colored sweater over my head and carefully deposits it on the bench beside the tub.
Then he curls his strong arms around me and unhooks my bra.
He steps back and begins to kneel in front of me when I catch his hesitation.
He tries to hide it, but there’s no use.
I’m so accustomed to it now. That horrified look when the scars on my chest and back come into full view.
There aren’t a ton, but there’s no escaping them.
The laceration on my back that required thirty-six stitches to close.
The prominent scar over my left ribcage where they inserted the chest tube.
And he’s already seen the one along my jaw.
The others pale in comparison, but he has a keen eye.
I’m sure he’ll catch them all, like constellations in a dark sky.
He slides my skirt down my legs, placing tender kisses to my navel as he goes. Max removes his briefs, ensuring we’re on equal footing. Well, minus the fact his well-defined pecs and abs are covered in flawless skin, while mine is a reflection of human wickedness.
Max takes my hand in his and walks closer to the tub, checking the temperature with his free one. He steps in first, sitting back against the edge of the tub and encouraging me to slide down in front of him.
We sit in silence together as I lean against his chest. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around me as if he’ll never let go. There’s a safety with him I never expected to feel again. Not with anyone but Holt.
“I was actually in the police academy before I worked at the club,” I begin.
“What?” Max pulls back, seeming genuinely shocked. I can see him scanning me, likely trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with the badge in my past.
“Yeah.” I let out a half-hearted, bitter chuckle. “I come from a long line of civil servants. My brother and uncles are FDNY. Proud brotherhood of firefighters who all worked during 9/11. My dad was a cop. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be just like him.”
“And your mom?” he asks.
I shake my head, my back pressed against his warm skin. “She wasn’t cut out to be married to a cop. Or to be a mom, for that matter. She left when I was eleven. It was just me, Holt, and my dad.”
“I’m sorry, Cass.”
“It’s okay. My father was all the mom and dad I ever needed.” My voice cracks, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
“Was?” he prompts gently.
“Yeah. We lost him a few years ago. Holt and I lost a lot of things.” I take a shaky breath, the memories threatening to pull me under. “I suffered a bad work-related injury.” I clear my throat, praying I can get through this. “In Virginia, it’s common to pull rotations in the jail as a recruit.”
I feel his body stiffen behind me as I speak. Max keeps rubbing my hair, washing my body with gentle strokes. I can tell he’s trying to stay calm, letting me get this out.
“I don’t recall a lot of the details. My traumatic brain injury shut a lot of it out,” I quip sarcastically.
“That’s probably a good thing,” he murmurs. His chin is resting on my shoulder, his warm breath cascading over the shell of my ear reassuringly.
“Holt told me when I came to that several inmates had jumped me. I was unconscious for almost two weeks. They placed me in a medically induced coma to let the swelling go down in my brain.” I point to the scar he’d noticed.
“And needed a chest tube for the blood in my lung.” I point to that scar, feeling like a really sad Vanna White, demonstrating prizes no contestant would ever want.
Max freezes. Even without looking up, I can feel his jaw has gone rigid against my shoulder.
The white-hot rage simmering in his veins is practically palpable.
It’s a heat that should scare me, but instead, it simply makes me feel safe.
“And this one?” he chokes out. The emotion hangs heavily between us in his broken words as he runs his fingertip over the scar on my back.
“Apparently one of the inmates had been crafting a homemade knife from something.” I try to stay strong and push through, knowing I need to reveal the largest injury I suffered.
“The ordeal must’ve been more than my poor father could withstand,” I continue, sniffling hard.
This is the hardest part. I can deal with what happened to me.
It’s almost like a news report about someone I barely know. Until the story comes to my father…
“After I woke up, Holt had to break the news that my father had died. Broken heart syndrome, the cardiologist called it.”
The tears are streaming down my chest now. I’m worried this tub could overflow. “It must be hereditary,” I choke out. “Because I feel like I’ve had it since the moment I found out he was gone.”
“Baby,” Max whispers, and turns me so my face is against his chest. He kisses my temple, rocking me in his arms.
We stay like this for a long while, his arms like steel bands around me.
I feel vulnerable, but also secure here with him.
I know this is a lot to drop on him. And neither of us has defined what’s happening between us.
I can’t get ahead of myself. This could be a step too far in this treacherous house of cards.
But I’m grateful all the same, that someone like Max Wilde is on my side.
Max
Holding Cassidy against me, I try to keep the rage burning within me under control.
She doesn’t need to add my unhinged reaction to her list of traumas.
The thought of her—this resilient, brilliant woman, broken and alone in a hospital bed while animals celebrated their work… it sets my blood on fire.
The need to protect her is overwhelming. My mind is spinning in a thousand directions, calculating how to make her world safe. How to erase that look from her eyes. It takes a long while before she settles down.
We lie in bed, snuggled up in each other’s arms. It’s an intimacy I’ve never shared with anyone.
Sure, I’d spent the night with girls in college before sending them out to do the walk of shame, or vice versa.
But never have I shared my bed with someone who has taken over my heart in the way Cassidy has.
I should let her sleep. But my curiosity is getting the best of me. “How did you end up at The Devil’s Playground?”
“Holt,” she answers, still wiping her eyes.
“He runs a self-defense business now. One of his clients is a member and told him it might be a way to give me the security I needed while I got back on my feet. It came out while I was in the hospital that the men who assaulted me had made threats of finishing the job once they were placed in the hole.”
“The hole?”
“Solitary confinement. At first, we hoped it was the angry outbursts of men who were now facing longer jail time and a possible transfer to a maximum-security prison. But they were able to confirm the men had attempted to make contact with gang members on the outside once they were moved out of solitary. So the threats were credible enough to go into hiding once I was discharged from the medical facility.”
Relax, Max. Breathe. It won’t solve anything if you pop off like a raging lunatic. At least not here with her. Then it dawns on me. “You aren’t in the witness protection program?”
“No. I considered it, but I don’t want to live that way. I dreamed of being a police officer my whole life. Spending the rest of it hiding isn’t an option. Why should I have to feel imprisoned for being a victim?”
She shifts in my arms, and I consider relaxing my grip, but it’s simply not possible. I need to hold onto her before I lose it and do something I’ll regret. This moment is about her, not me.
“Holt has been helping me regain my strength and independence. I’m a work in progress, but one day I’ll be able to rejoin the living.” She lets out a weak laugh. “Besides, I’m not sure The Devil’s Playground is sanctioned by the witness protection program.”
I run my hand down her back. “It probably should be. Gianni has the best security around.”
“You’re right. It’s part of the reason Holt and I felt it could work. I can take my online classes, work out with him, and live in a building with top-notch protection. It’s actually been really good for me.”
I push a wet strand of hair behind her ear and place a chaste kiss to the scar along her hairline before bending to do the same along her jaw.
One by one, I take inventory of them, dotting each with kisses.
Hopefully, it’s a gentle reminder to her that they’re one more reason I find her devastatingly beautiful.
Once I’m done, I kiss the crown of her head, holding her as snug as I can. Hell. I was already falling hard for Cassidy, but this? This is the point of no return.
How do you walk away from the strongest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever known?
But the reality is still there, lurking in the shadows of this house. I haven’t spilled my own secrets. I’m fucked up beyond repair. And this woman, more than anyone, deserves a good man. Not someone whose head is a storm of secrets and whose work puts a potential target on her back.
I’m terrified of what I’ll do to her heart given the state of my own.