Chapter Thirty-One
Trevor
The door closes quietly behind me as I shake in rage. The feeling has overwhelmed me to the point I don’t think I can speak. I see my desk, my computer, and the filing cabinet. Even the damn couch I can’t bear to get rid of because it’s the prop for the scene of one of the best memories I’ve ever had. I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than what happened there.
I want to trash it all. Break everything into unrecognizable pieces.
She thinks I’m some asshole that would let anyone touch Max like some fucked up gigolo. How did everything get like this? How did it get this far?
I close my eyes tightly, clenching my fists as my heart forces blood to rush through my veins like lava. I try to breathe and center myself, find the clarity I need for this situation, but nothing comes. Nothing but anger and frustrated pain that I can barely acknowledge to myself, much less to anyone else. I have to hold it all inside, or I’m afraid the box I shove every negative thought into will burst wide open, and I’ll be lost completely.
The only good thing I did in this situation was walk away instead of unleashing my temper on her. She has a right to her say. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong.
I’ve done everything wrong. If I needed proof, all I would have to do is look into Tera’s eyes and see the shell she’s become. Max always said she was a bubble of pure light. I’m the asshole that popped it.
My shoulders slump at the thought, remembering how she couldn’t look me in the eyes until she was angry. It wasn’t so much submission as it was a downtrodden woman waiting for another blow to land. How so many shields went up around her, it took my breath away in fear.
There’s no way I can break down that many walls. None. My self-centered thoughts of simply apologizing and expecting her to forgive me right away punches me in the gut. Who does that? The kind of man I despise, that’s who.
I swallow hard as I think over what she said. It’s a bitter and cold pill to swallow, but I have to if I have any chance of fixing this. I’m starting to doubt that I can.
When Max comes in and finds me staring at the couch, he closes the door behind him with a bang. I’m sure he’s mad at me. Who wouldn’t be after the things I’ve done?
Instead of the fiery tirade I’m expecting, I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders as he leans into me. Is it wrong for me to feel comforted by his steady presence? To get some form of relief from the feelings raging through me? I don’t deserve it.
“Now that she’s ripped you down to the right size, are you ready to really start over?” He asks with a sense of calm I rarely hear from him.
I turn my head to take in his serene expression as he stares at the couch. “There’s no way I can fix this, babe.”
He withdraws his arm and turns to face me. “It hit you that hard, huh? Maybe I should come back tomorrow and ask again after your balls drop back down.”
“Max,” I snarl at him, but in typical fashion, he ignores my warning.
“We’re about to become really popular with the girls, by the way.” He throws himself down on the couch on the cushion nearest the door. Never the first or the middle, always the last.
I swear we might as well have the damn thing bronzed and turned into a shrine. We wouldn’t have to worry about breaking the invisible barrier of the first two cushions.
I’m thrown back to the image of them there. The way she teased him perfectly, like she was made for it, working him into a frenzy without much effort. I’ve never seen him respond that fast to anyone other than me. She had him wrapped around her little finger, and she obeyed me without any kind of hesitance.
“Hey, pay attention,” Max claps his hands with an irritated scowl.
I rub a hand over my face and sit in my desk chair, finally looking at him again with my own angry expression.
“Thank you,” he says slowly, rubbing it in. “As I was saying, the waitresses are ready to throw down for the opportunity to fuck you now. Tera just opened the door for them all to think they’ve got a shot.”
Instead of the jealousy I’d expect, he simply looks amused.
“You’re not upset?” I ask, settling back into the chair. My hand automatically reaches down to touch Tera’s computer like some sort of emotional support that makes me cringe. But I keep doing it. Every fucking day I keep doing it.
“About them? Who gives a shit, mi rey?”
Fuck. He just had to call me that. I narrow my eyes on him as my pants get a little tighter in the crotch. He grins back, aware of my reaction and totally unrepentant.
“You’re telling me that you’re ok with them trying to fuck me in the break room?”
Max’s eyes roll, “You haven’t fallen down that road with any of them. I trust you. But if Tera gets the thought in her head that you will, she’ll walk for good.”
All of the humor leaves me in a rush with his words. “I think she already has.”
“Since when are you such a fucking quitter? Just how far did your balls crawl inside you? Or is the big boss man turning switch?”
“Max don’t make me start counting,” I rub my hand absently on my thigh, the pins there giving me a twinge that constantly reminds me of their presence. Of my mistakes.
Max’s brown eyes meet mine as he settles back into the couch, satisfied now that he’s gotten a rise out of me. I want to be irritated with him, but his defiance is what got my attention in the first place. I like the push and pull we always have for dominance in the relationship. He isn’t afraid of my bad attitude towards virtually everything. I don’t have to fake anything with him. And when he finally breaks down with pleasure and starts babbling, it’s one of the biggest and most rewarding turn-ons.
His eyebrow rises, and I’m reminded that we’re having a conversation here. My anger needs an outlet, and it’s gearing toward sex instead of a real conversation.
I spread my legs and get comfortable, gesturing for him to kneel in front of me. He sighs and gets up, grabbing the pillow from under the desk and setting it down before kneeling, hands flat on his thighs.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as I try and work through what I could possibly do next to help the situation. Preferably without fucking it up again. I don’t think she’s gotten a single letter I’ve written and that wilts me like nothing else could. My soul is in those words, every fucked-up piece of it. How do I talk to her about this without losing it? I can’t keep walking away to get it together.
Max keeps his eyes on the floor, actually behaving himself for once despite the sigh at the beginning. Fuck, he’s adorable.
“Are we sitting here stewing or making a plan?”
He had to ruin it.
“If you keep it up, you’re going to spend the rest of the night on the floor as a cockwarmer. This is your only warning before I start counting.”
His shoulders stiffen, and I can practically hear him pouting. Cockwarming is one of the only things that he actually takes as a punishment. There’s something about him not being able to talk back that he doesn’t like. I can’t imagine why.
My mouth has just opened to speak again when the door gets flung open dramatically, and Sarah is revealed in the doorway, face flushed and breathing heavily. The way I’m positioned has my open legs and a kneeling Max in full view. I thought everyone had left.
I glance at Max. He loves the game of who will catch us. This is one of the very few times that we’ve been caught in a somewhat compromising position. Neither of us really cares if we get caught, but we have to see if we can convince the person that it isn’t what it looks like.
He continues kneeling, eyes downcast in the perfect submission pose.
I’m not in the mood to play that game tonight, either. I feel too raw. I don’t think we could anymore now that Tera has made our relationship even more obvious.
“Can I help you, Sarah?” I ask calmly as she stares at my legs and Max’s position, practically panting. Max’s fingers tighten on his thighs. Is he jealous that I’m talking to her, or was it the tone I used?
“I just,” she takes a few steps into the room to get a better look, and my back teeth grind in irritation. Max’s shoulders have tensed enough I’m half afraid he’ll get up and punch the girl.
“Finish your sentence and get out,” I tell her flatly. It’s one thing to irritate me. It’s easy to do. But to make Max uncomfortable? Not acceptable.
She blinks at me stupidly and does some kind of pose she must think is sexy. “I just wanted to see if you needed any help.”
When she continues standing there with her lips in a ridiculous pout I say, “Step two of that command was what again?”
Max laughs very softly, his fingertips relaxing again.
Sarah has no answer for that, but her stance becomes more rigid, her attitude quickly becoming petulant. “Why does he get to stay?”
“Because he’s my fucking partner.” It feels so good every time I say that. He’s mine, and this bitch can fuck off.
Instead of making her think twice about being here, my words seem to excite her more.
“I could join you both,” she offers and takes another step closer.
“Is your name Tera?” I ask with a deadly tone.
Max’s breath sucks in sharply at the question. The fact that I’m finally acknowledging it to someone other than him means something. I get the heart-crushing feeling that it’s too late.
“What is it with her? You all act like she’s this perfect chick.” Sarah drops the pose as she finally loses her temper. “She threw a plate of food in your face and got you beat up the same night!”
“That’s right,” I snap my fingers with an insincere smile. “You’re the one that threw a plate at her tonight, aren’t you?”
“She deserved it. Even she said so,” The petulant defense makes me drop the fake gentleman act quickly.
“You’re fired.”
She gapes at my words, and I stand to walk around Max.
“W-what are you doing?” She finally catches up to how pissed I am and starts stepping back as I advance.
“I’m locking the doors after I toss your ass out of here.” I keep moving.
She turns to scurry away, grabbing her purse on the way past the bar.
“She isn’t even pretty! If that’s the kind of idiot you want in your bed, you really are pathetic.”
Jesus, is this the kind of shit people say to her face? Who the fuck would do that to sweet Tera? I’m a hypocrite because I said a few things that were damning myself. Slipknot is right. People do, in fact, equal shit.
When she crosses the threshold of the front doors, I force them to close faster and lock them in front of her face as she stands screaming insults. I don’t spare her a second glance. If she’s still there in twenty minutes, I’m calling the cops to help her find her way home. I need to start figuring out how I can possibly fix this. The fact that Max thinks it’s possible is the only hope I have right now.